- New Year’s Day on Gorgona, dancing and drinking with the workers.
- Corey moved in with me in March.
- Finished my thesis, learned a tremendous amount about writing and literature and what’s so amazing about really deep thoughts. Spent afternoons at my advisor’s house, going over word after word, page after page, while his daughters ran up and down the stairs and through the garden.
- Wandered through thesis parade in a daze, drunk off of three days of no sleep rather than alcohol, pulled Corey through library with me and Dionysian drumming.
- Did very well in my last year at Reed, made straight A’s.
- Walked across graduation stage and felt startled by how loud the applause and whistles were; the combined noise of all my family and friends.
- My advisor shouting out my name and waving enthusiastically with his enormous grin as I walked by in the line of professors applauding the lined-up graduats as we left the tent.
- Corey playing Eddie Vedder’s “Hard Sun” over and over again on my Mac.
- Worked as adult leader on Plunge; hung out with great kids and met amazing people from Portland community. Riding on buses and walking everywhere, I truly felt for the first time like I was a Portlander, and like Portland was my home, rather than Reed.
- Left with Corey to Ecuador to work on the mycorenewal tour.
- The day and night and aftermath of Bill’s death. Building the little altar in our living room for his ashes while his wife/partner finished the tour in the Galapagos with her daughter who flew in from Canada.
- Worked as guide and translator in Yasuni national park; dealt with rude Swiss, sweet French-Canadians and wonderful Brit tourists; saw amazing sights like a beautiful sunset with macaws squawking overhead, countless monkeys, turtles, pink river dolphins. No matter how many times I went down that river in that boat, with my butt all sore from sitting in the wooden seat, roasting hot during the day and freezing cold at night during the minimu 4-hour boat ride, I never, ever got tired of seeing the jungle.
- Reading “The Prophet.”
- Lying on my stomach on bed listening to Regina Spektor, putting my headphones in Corey’s ears and making him listen to “On the Radio”
- Staying at the coast. Corey fishing. Eating the fish cooked over the bonfire’s ashes on Playa Escondida, delicious fish meat melting in my mouth.
- Staying with Corey in the shaman Don Delio’s town. Playing with the kids on the beach. The night we arrived, “Titanic” was playing on the small TV screen. Swinging his baby in the green jungle hammock.
- Running into Don Delio on the streets of Quito and inviting him to stay with us in our Guapulo house; how good it felt to return hospitality.
- Every single giant crab or seafood boil we had at the house with all our friends, eating out of one giant pot in the middle of the table, licking my fingers clean of shrimp juice and wiping them off on my pants.
- Shopping at the Santa Clara market, walking up those slippery wet stairs to the stinking seafood section, carrying live crabs home in a shopping bag.
- Every single moment I got to spend playing and cuddling with Motor, the world's cutest and toughest kitten.
- Saying goodbye to Cali and Colombia. Visiting CIAT and feeling touched by my father’s kindness. Spending a weekend hiking and going to hotsprings in Coconuco with Corey and my family. Watching “Into the Wild” again with my family.
- Curled up in bed with Corey watching episode after episode of Season One of “The Wire” on one of our housemate’s computers.
- Reading “The Savage Detectives.”
- Reading “Respiracion artificial” and “Portrait of the artist as a young man.”
- Laura and Cara picking us up at the airport; the astonishment and pleasure we felt pulling up the driveway when we saw the house for the first time, which quickly turned into exhaustion and weariness once we realized the keys didn’t work and we would have to go downtown to meet my brother and get his.
- Corey’s dad’s visit; going out to dinner and mushroom hunting on the coast with him.
- Mushroom hunting with Jay and Matt; water squishing between my toes in my sloshy wet hiking boots, looking up at Matt and realizing we were both as wet as though we’d jumped into a swimming pool, but it didn’t matter, because our arms were filled with matsutake.
- Corey and Jay selling mushrooms at the Milwaukie Farmer’s market. Me making their sign out of colored tape from the Dollar Store.
- The first week of yoga classes I took; the pleasure with which I adopted the extremely relaxing technique picturing my eyeballs dripping down from my sockets like water; how centered and peaceful I felt afterwards.
- Plucking chanterelles out of the soil, effortlessly gathering pounds of them in minutes, barely having to walk to look for them--they were everywhere!
- All the Saturday night dinners we had at the house with Laura and Cara, all the wine, the baths, the hot tub, the giggling, the stories and good food.
- Biking on the Springwater Corridor to get to one site of work and all the way down Powell to get home from another. Seeing all the homeless people raise their hands momentarily off their shopping carts or beer cans to greet me and whoop as I sped by. All those days I left late from home or downtown so I had to pedal absoloutely relentlessly fast to get there on time (I always did!).
- The last ESL classes I had with my students at one site where they brought me a card, playing scrabble with them.
- Every moment I got to spend with Jonathan at Homework Club: playing Uno, testing him on his times tables (get those 4’s, Jonathan!). Jonathan is my man!
- Talking with the other teachers in the photo copy room, making friends with my co-workers and boss, getting to really feel like a part of the school community.
- Clamming at the coast with Jay and friends, eating the most delicious food of my life, walking through the ocean waves in my hiking boots and getting absolutely soaked, the thrill with which I pulled my first clam out of the water.
- Thanksgiving with my grandparents’ at Morro Bay. Feeling really touched by their affection and love, really appreciating the time I have with them. Climbing Black Hill with Corey and Thomas, canoeing over to the sand dunes, Thomas digging to the point of exhaustion through the sand for clams (the otters had eaten them all), watching the sunset on the jetty and doing push-ups on the sand while Corey and Thomas plucked crab claws and mussells from the rocks to eat for dinner later that night.
- Not getting the jobs I really wanted; moving on from the disappointment.
- Dim Sum with Corey, Cara and Matt.
- Christmas with my family, Corey and Laura; my mom giving Laura those earrings from Nepal.
- Watching “Happy-Go-Lucky” with my sister; walking through the rain with her to get to yoga class, laughing at her comment "I feel like a Serbian refugee" as she wrapped her scarf over her face. Later in class we almost destroyed shavassana (sp?) by our uncontrolable giggles when she said to the teacher that she couldn't find her--I forget what it's called, that center place thing between the two dimples on your back.
- And what’s next? Echinacea tea with honey and finishing up the last 150 pages of “Team of Rivals” as my family watches “Cold Mountain” in the living room downstairs and I wait for Corey to come home from watering his plants in the laboratory.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
on happiness
The snowpocalype of 2008 has officially ended: most of the snow has melted, save the black dirty stuff on the side of roads; the ducks are back in the duckpond (which is now officially a wetland, having doubled in size), and today the weather alternated between sunny (I raised my eyes to the sky and wondered what was that strange, floating yellow orb), rainy, and rainbowy. Today I will ride my bike for the first time in 11 days to yoga class.
I spent Christmas with my parents and siblings in the family home in Portland, as well as Corey and my friend Laura, whose flight to Montana was delayed until the 27th. My sister and I have been trying to make the most of her time here by going out to see movies. Yesterday we went to the previously unexplored by me Academy Theatre, near 82nd and Stark. It's an awesome place--$4 tickets, great popcorn, pizza and hot dogs. The names of the movies are written in chalk on tiny blackboards hung over the theatre entrances. I'm definitely going back there.
The film we saw was called "Happy-Go-Lucky," by the British director Mike Leigh. Neither of us had seen any of his films before, though we'd certainly heard of him. The movie was about a woman trying to be happy and good in the face of some not so happy or good things. I thought I would be annoyed by the movie, because I'm usually annoyed by people who are cheerful all the time (or at least I was in high school). They came off as shallow and naive to me, the Happiness Police. However, the movie didn't annoy me, much to my surprise. Instead, it really drove home the message I've been trying to preach to myself lately--you gotta give out the positive energy. You gotta have a good mindset about your day, and your life, and the way things are going.
Easy say, hard do. Immediately after the movie, we got lost in the glorious Asian food market on 82nd and Division. My sister was looking for sushi-making materials and I had a long list of food for an epic homecooked huge Asian dinner. I got inexplicably tense and frustrated by not being able to find the tempura battle amongst all the tiny, labeled in Chinese (Vietnamese? Forgive my ignorance...) aisles. Then after a long wait and bus ride, we got home only to find that everyone else in the family ha d already eaten, and that I'd bought the wrong kind of cuttlefishh, and I didn't have as many points on my Oregon Trail left as I'd thought, and, and, and... oh, so it's hard! It's had to remain upbeat? For me, at least. For Corey, it seems almost effortless. Maybe it's because he's been around the block a few more times than I have, taken a few more punches.
I'm trying, though. You gotta have your little goals every day. I have an interview for a paid internship on January 8th, training at the new elementary school I start work at on January 5th (I've got a new job, doing a morning Homework Club now--Homework Club FTW), and return to other Homework Club and ESL teaching on January 12th. Read a chapter a day of "Team of Rivals" (that process is going to have to speed up, now that I've discovered I can't renew it because of all the other holds on it... hello, 500 pages in the next 2 days...). Write in my paper journal (or this one). Do push-ups and sit-ups. Apply for at least one job a day (if not more). Bike to yoga class. There's still our tickets to Ecuador on January 18th, and there's still time between now and then to decide.
I spent Christmas with my parents and siblings in the family home in Portland, as well as Corey and my friend Laura, whose flight to Montana was delayed until the 27th. My sister and I have been trying to make the most of her time here by going out to see movies. Yesterday we went to the previously unexplored by me Academy Theatre, near 82nd and Stark. It's an awesome place--$4 tickets, great popcorn, pizza and hot dogs. The names of the movies are written in chalk on tiny blackboards hung over the theatre entrances. I'm definitely going back there.
The film we saw was called "Happy-Go-Lucky," by the British director Mike Leigh. Neither of us had seen any of his films before, though we'd certainly heard of him. The movie was about a woman trying to be happy and good in the face of some not so happy or good things. I thought I would be annoyed by the movie, because I'm usually annoyed by people who are cheerful all the time (or at least I was in high school). They came off as shallow and naive to me, the Happiness Police. However, the movie didn't annoy me, much to my surprise. Instead, it really drove home the message I've been trying to preach to myself lately--you gotta give out the positive energy. You gotta have a good mindset about your day, and your life, and the way things are going.
Easy say, hard do. Immediately after the movie, we got lost in the glorious Asian food market on 82nd and Division. My sister was looking for sushi-making materials and I had a long list of food for an epic homecooked huge Asian dinner. I got inexplicably tense and frustrated by not being able to find the tempura battle amongst all the tiny, labeled in Chinese (Vietnamese? Forgive my ignorance...) aisles. Then after a long wait and bus ride, we got home only to find that everyone else in the family ha d already eaten, and that I'd bought the wrong kind of cuttlefishh, and I didn't have as many points on my Oregon Trail left as I'd thought, and, and, and... oh, so it's hard! It's had to remain upbeat? For me, at least. For Corey, it seems almost effortless. Maybe it's because he's been around the block a few more times than I have, taken a few more punches.
I'm trying, though. You gotta have your little goals every day. I have an interview for a paid internship on January 8th, training at the new elementary school I start work at on January 5th (I've got a new job, doing a morning Homework Club now--Homework Club FTW), and return to other Homework Club and ESL teaching on January 12th. Read a chapter a day of "Team of Rivals" (that process is going to have to speed up, now that I've discovered I can't renew it because of all the other holds on it... hello, 500 pages in the next 2 days...). Write in my paper journal (or this one). Do push-ups and sit-ups. Apply for at least one job a day (if not more). Bike to yoga class. There's still our tickets to Ecuador on January 18th, and there's still time between now and then to decide.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
"The well-educated unemployed"
Wow, I guess I know what I am now. “This is very strong evidence that this recession is very hard on college grads, more than usual." Glad it's not just me. This following quote really hit home:
I mean, I'm technically not unemployed. I have a job. You might even say I have two of them (before the semester ended at the other elementary school I worked at, I had three). However, it's "definitely not enough." And unfortunately, Christmas break is fast approaching. Whereas before that meant fun happy playtime, now it just means no work until January 12th, when the after school program kicks in again. And I like/need work. Especially if I'm applying to go back to school this fall.
Which means it's time to start looking for something with better pay, better hours and a better chance of mobility up the employment totem pole. Or maybe I'll just go to Argentina.
“It’s really grim, and almost everyone I know who was at my level is unemployed,” Ms. Lambie, 29, said. She said she hopes to land at another firm in the city, but added, “If a really interesting opportunity came along in, say, Argentina, I’d jump on it.”
In the meantime, Ms. Lambie is trying to get by on a weekly unemployment check of $405, which she said is “definitely not enough.”
I mean, I'm technically not unemployed. I have a job. You might even say I have two of them (before the semester ended at the other elementary school I worked at, I had three). However, it's "definitely not enough." And unfortunately, Christmas break is fast approaching. Whereas before that meant fun happy playtime, now it just means no work until January 12th, when the after school program kicks in again. And I like/need work. Especially if I'm applying to go back to school this fall.
Which means it's time to start looking for something with better pay, better hours and a better chance of mobility up the employment totem pole. Or maybe I'll just go to Argentina.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
oh! sweet nuthin!
Reevaluation of mission statement
I don't really know what to do with this blog. It just has this weird ambivalent identity to me. I got tired of livejournal, though I still use it as a convenient way to update people about my life. Mainly it felt too "public" for me, because too many people know it's mine (the user name doesn't help). To follow up that statement with a seemingly contradictory statement re: LJ, I also don't like how I friends-lock all the entries... I mean, I *like* reading people's public entries, so I want to have some of my own, just none that are TMI x 3. I think there's a lot that can be said for learning the skills necessary for knowing how to manage and control a public, online identity... like it or not, they're here to stay, so I might as well learn through doing.
I also have the mushroom/travel/exciting activities blog with Corey. I tried to open a wordpress account where I could keep track of the news articles I read, but I'm completely disgusted with the crappy wordpress formula (why does it insist on leaving a space between every paragraph?? I LIKE PRESSING ENTER TWICE OKAY). I originally meant to use this to keep track of the books I was reading... but (as my sister can very well attest) writing good, proper book reviews takes a considerable amount of time and brain energy investment. With my goodreads account, I can type two-three sentences and have it be that (even though, as I've said before, the site's format is le poop).
I read this article in the NY Times about businesses using blogs to expand, and one of the things it recommended for having a sophisticated blog is making sure you include a lot of links to other sites. Well, I can't even do that, since I can't remember/find the article. Oh, irony.
I am in the middle of reading Phillip K. Dick's Valis right now, an extremely well-written and entertaining book. It's a lot more Vonnegut-esque than expected, with a little Tori Amos and Umberto Eco thrown into the blender. It's amazing how much more I appreciate this book than I would have if I'd read it, say, a scant year or two ago, when I wasn't dating someone with a penchant for conspiracy theories involving contact with extraterrestrial reptilian life-forms. "Reality is that when you stop believing in it, it doesn't go away."
One thing I feel I ought to dramatically announce is that I finished nanowrimo! Well--"finished." I feel like I cheated in the last chapter, by typing up all these quotes from Borgés and Joyce and Whitman in order to create these fake postmodern-esque collage for (what else?) a character's blog. LOLBAMA. Um, actually the pastiche was meant to subtly imply that this is a character whose own voice is never present in the work. It's called "White Fruit." Um, maybe I should post an excerpt here one day? I'm actually kind of looking forward to editing it, though I kind of need to not look at it for a while. It's just a fun little project to have in my spare time, I guess. We all need our silly little projects that make our lives interesting and meaningful, doncha know. Maybe I'll start talking about it here a little if it feels appropriate/comfortable.
What else is up with me?
* Thanksgiving in San Luis Obispo was fun but a bit draining--I kind of feel like I need a vacation from my vacation. Maybe I'm an idiot for expecting my 18-year-old bro to step up to the plate and shoulder some of the responsibilities that come along with visiting/caring for your grandparents.
* Apparently I'm owed another big cheque from Portland public schools, so I'm not nearly as much as a bottom-feeder as I thought--I'm on regular indentured servant wages, as opposed to slave ones. I found these mad exciting ESL books from PCC buried at the back of the ESL closet. It's kind of annoying I've only just found them now, with just this week and the next remaining. Man, I could have planned a rockin' syllabus! Maybe I'll do one anyway, just to satisfy the OCD nerd in me. Or maybe not.
* I invited my boss and her husband over for dinner Saturday night! Oh, I am so pleased-proud-excited of-for myself! I love trying to make new friends.
Things to do:
- figure out where my packages are getting sent to (not the Milwaukie post office--where could it be???)
- start looking for housing for Corey and I to move into come January
- have the long-awaited job interview on Thursday, wait to hear back, then plan next phase in life accordingly
- buy nasty-tasting nail polish from Walgreens--my habit has reached the point of UN-acceptable, en serio, hace tres semanas ya
- Finish TEFL course (not able to do in full until track down package... siiiiigh)
- do laundry and clean room (TOMORROW)
- be at office to replace missing important wallet card at 7:30 AM
And here is a link to make my blog more sophisticated!
I don't really know what to do with this blog. It just has this weird ambivalent identity to me. I got tired of livejournal, though I still use it as a convenient way to update people about my life. Mainly it felt too "public" for me, because too many people know it's mine (the user name doesn't help). To follow up that statement with a seemingly contradictory statement re: LJ, I also don't like how I friends-lock all the entries... I mean, I *like* reading people's public entries, so I want to have some of my own, just none that are TMI x 3. I think there's a lot that can be said for learning the skills necessary for knowing how to manage and control a public, online identity... like it or not, they're here to stay, so I might as well learn through doing.
I also have the mushroom/travel/exciting activities blog with Corey. I tried to open a wordpress account where I could keep track of the news articles I read, but I'm completely disgusted with the crappy wordpress formula (why does it insist on leaving a space between every paragraph?? I LIKE PRESSING ENTER TWICE OKAY). I originally meant to use this to keep track of the books I was reading... but (as my sister can very well attest) writing good, proper book reviews takes a considerable amount of time and brain energy investment. With my goodreads account, I can type two-three sentences and have it be that (even though, as I've said before, the site's format is le poop).
I read this article in the NY Times about businesses using blogs to expand, and one of the things it recommended for having a sophisticated blog is making sure you include a lot of links to other sites. Well, I can't even do that, since I can't remember/find the article. Oh, irony.
I am in the middle of reading Phillip K. Dick's Valis right now, an extremely well-written and entertaining book. It's a lot more Vonnegut-esque than expected, with a little Tori Amos and Umberto Eco thrown into the blender. It's amazing how much more I appreciate this book than I would have if I'd read it, say, a scant year or two ago, when I wasn't dating someone with a penchant for conspiracy theories involving contact with extraterrestrial reptilian life-forms. "Reality is that when you stop believing in it, it doesn't go away."
One thing I feel I ought to dramatically announce is that I finished nanowrimo! Well--"finished." I feel like I cheated in the last chapter, by typing up all these quotes from Borgés and Joyce and Whitman in order to create these fake postmodern-esque collage for (what else?) a character's blog. LOLBAMA. Um, actually the pastiche was meant to subtly imply that this is a character whose own voice is never present in the work. It's called "White Fruit." Um, maybe I should post an excerpt here one day? I'm actually kind of looking forward to editing it, though I kind of need to not look at it for a while. It's just a fun little project to have in my spare time, I guess. We all need our silly little projects that make our lives interesting and meaningful, doncha know. Maybe I'll start talking about it here a little if it feels appropriate/comfortable.
What else is up with me?
* Thanksgiving in San Luis Obispo was fun but a bit draining--I kind of feel like I need a vacation from my vacation. Maybe I'm an idiot for expecting my 18-year-old bro to step up to the plate and shoulder some of the responsibilities that come along with visiting/caring for your grandparents.
* Apparently I'm owed another big cheque from Portland public schools, so I'm not nearly as much as a bottom-feeder as I thought--I'm on regular indentured servant wages, as opposed to slave ones. I found these mad exciting ESL books from PCC buried at the back of the ESL closet. It's kind of annoying I've only just found them now, with just this week and the next remaining. Man, I could have planned a rockin' syllabus! Maybe I'll do one anyway, just to satisfy the OCD nerd in me. Or maybe not.
* I invited my boss and her husband over for dinner Saturday night! Oh, I am so pleased-proud-excited of-for myself! I love trying to make new friends.
Things to do:
- figure out where my packages are getting sent to (not the Milwaukie post office--where could it be???)
- start looking for housing for Corey and I to move into come January
- have the long-awaited job interview on Thursday, wait to hear back, then plan next phase in life accordingly
- buy nasty-tasting nail polish from Walgreens--my habit has reached the point of UN-acceptable, en serio, hace tres semanas ya
- Finish TEFL course (not able to do in full until track down package... siiiiigh)
- do laundry and clean room (TOMORROW)
- be at office to replace missing important wallet card at 7:30 AM
And here is a link to make my blog more sophisticated!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
bleary-eyed
I am so extraordinarily sleepy right now. Corey and my younger brother are out fishing on the Morro Bay rocks. We scanned everything that seemed remotely relevant on the internet and couldn't find any fishing, clamming or crabbing laws (apparently in the 70's the limit was 25 pounds of clams--25 pounds!!), so we've just been taking what we need.
I read somewhere on the NY Times that one of the keys to making a good, readable blog is making sure to include lots of links to other places. Here goes, I guess.
1) Only 7,000 words to go for nanowrimo, which ends today in 23 hours. I'm going to be one of those people uploading it at 11:55pm, basically (hopefully I'll be able to upload it a *little* earlier than that...).
2) I'm really enjoying reading Phillip K. Dick's Valis right now. After reading the first few pages, I was shocked at how Vonnegut-esque it sounded--I guess I have memories of "The Man in the High Castle" and "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" as being very somber, dark and serious.
3) I've started doing the one hundred push-ups program again, after getting to Week 5 and then drifting away thanks to getting involved with silly things such as moving back to the U.S. and finding a job. I only just figured out that I did the wrong column today. No wonder my arms felt like jelly afterwards.
I'm watching a replay of the Raptors-Lakers game where Kobe Bryant scored 81 points (apparently now considered a "classic") and I'm about to pad silently upstairs eat a piece of my grandma's mince pie. Life is good.
Thanksgiving in Morro Bay was as good as always, this time around with the interesting variation of Corey's presence. My grandparents are 91 and 84, respectively. They're pretty mobile, all things considering. I mean, they took the train to Portland for my graduation, and then went to San Diego (in a separate, charter trip) and saw Sea World and stuff.
I read somewhere on the NY Times that one of the keys to making a good, readable blog is making sure to include lots of links to other places. Here goes, I guess.
1) Only 7,000 words to go for nanowrimo, which ends today in 23 hours. I'm going to be one of those people uploading it at 11:55pm, basically (hopefully I'll be able to upload it a *little* earlier than that...).
2) I'm really enjoying reading Phillip K. Dick's Valis right now. After reading the first few pages, I was shocked at how Vonnegut-esque it sounded--I guess I have memories of "The Man in the High Castle" and "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" as being very somber, dark and serious.
3) I've started doing the one hundred push-ups program again, after getting to Week 5 and then drifting away thanks to getting involved with silly things such as moving back to the U.S. and finding a job. I only just figured out that I did the wrong column today. No wonder my arms felt like jelly afterwards.
I'm watching a replay of the Raptors-Lakers game where Kobe Bryant scored 81 points (apparently now considered a "classic") and I'm about to pad silently upstairs eat a piece of my grandma's mince pie. Life is good.
Thanksgiving in Morro Bay was as good as always, this time around with the interesting variation of Corey's presence. My grandparents are 91 and 84, respectively. They're pretty mobile, all things considering. I mean, they took the train to Portland for my graduation, and then went to San Diego (in a separate, charter trip) and saw Sea World and stuff.
Friday, November 21, 2008
blog blob blop
- Last night I had a bit of a breakthrough in the classroom, when I realized that the classes that are the most successful are the ones that focus on learning new vocabulary and speaking, and the ones that are only so-so and are a bit of a drag to slog through are the grammar-focused ones. I'm not sure how much this has to do with the fact that I don't really like grammar myself, which probably comes through when I teach it. Anyway, it's been interesting (re?)learning the foundations of the English language. I get the feeling that this will make it easier to for me to go on learning new languages (hello, French? Russian...?).
- Since my last post Corey made $800 in a single poker session last night. He lent my bro $100 so that he could play, which he promptly lost. Not really surprising. Also, my phone did end up dying a fizzy kaputzy death (thanks, Portland weather!), but thankfully I got a free one in the mail. I had absolutely no idea that once you own your phone for a certain amount of time you can get a free one. It's things like these (along with not being able to figure out how to work the Mr. Coffee machine, or turn on the ice maker) that make me feel out of touch with modern life (not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes).
- I rediscovered my Goodreads account. I think the design/layout on the site is really annoying, ugly and frustrating. But at least it'll help me keep track of the books I read. Just like those long Microsoft Word lists my sister kept way back in middle school. The "Ulysses" slog has stagnated. I'm in a bit of a suburban angst-theme, having just finished "White Noise" and in the middle of A.M. Homes' "Music For Torching," based on one of my favorite short stories from "The Safety of Objects."
So far I'm really enjoying it; it's one of those books you look forward to reading. In particular like the description of a little girl's room as "vagina pink." I wish this book would be made into a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, a sort of Jack and Rose go suburban forty years later type of deal... oh, wait...
- The last time I spoke with my sister on the phone she brought to my attention that it's been six months (and a bit!) since graduating. What a strange thought. Sometimes it seems/feels like a lot has happened, sometimes it's like nothing at all....
- I'm leaving on Wednesday to San Luis Obispo to spend Thanksgiving with my grandmother. Thomas and Corey will be coming too. There probably won't be many mushrooms there (it's kind of a scrubland), but maybe we'll get to go hiking and kayaking.
- Since my last post Corey made $800 in a single poker session last night. He lent my bro $100 so that he could play, which he promptly lost. Not really surprising. Also, my phone did end up dying a fizzy kaputzy death (thanks, Portland weather!), but thankfully I got a free one in the mail. I had absolutely no idea that once you own your phone for a certain amount of time you can get a free one. It's things like these (along with not being able to figure out how to work the Mr. Coffee machine, or turn on the ice maker) that make me feel out of touch with modern life (not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes).
- I rediscovered my Goodreads account. I think the design/layout on the site is really annoying, ugly and frustrating. But at least it'll help me keep track of the books I read. Just like those long Microsoft Word lists my sister kept way back in middle school. The "Ulysses" slog has stagnated. I'm in a bit of a suburban angst-theme, having just finished "White Noise" and in the middle of A.M. Homes' "Music For Torching," based on one of my favorite short stories from "The Safety of Objects."
So far I'm really enjoying it; it's one of those books you look forward to reading. In particular like the description of a little girl's room as "vagina pink." I wish this book would be made into a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, a sort of Jack and Rose go suburban forty years later type of deal... oh, wait...
- The last time I spoke with my sister on the phone she brought to my attention that it's been six months (and a bit!) since graduating. What a strange thought. Sometimes it seems/feels like a lot has happened, sometimes it's like nothing at all....
- I'm leaving on Wednesday to San Luis Obispo to spend Thanksgiving with my grandmother. Thomas and Corey will be coming too. There probably won't be many mushrooms there (it's kind of a scrubland), but maybe we'll get to go hiking and kayaking.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Have you ever...
... spent a lot of money on a plane ticket, and suddenly find yourself making excuses like "family is important", "we never get to see each other, only on holidays" and "Grandma's geting old"?
This doesn't stop me from feeling slightly ill.
At least Corey's making a lot of money playing poker.
This doesn't stop me from feeling slightly ill.
At least Corey's making a lot of money playing poker.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Things thought about on a long, extremely wet bike ride home, while listening to Sinead O'Connor's "Downpressor Man"
- "I hope my phone isn't dead. The black screen and lack of little red light and general unresponsiveness is a bad sign."
- "Wow, crashing my bike after going over those wet train tracks makes me want to cry."
- "Wow, crashing my bike after skidding to a stop on my turn-off on the Springwater Trail makes me make pitiful angry squeaks."
- "What happened to the little plastic black thingy on my bike handle? I came out of yoga class and it was gone. Was it stolen? Did it slip off from the rainwater and I didn't even notice it? It's just bare metal now. Makes my hand colder, and slippier. I hope it's not expensive to replace."
- "You know, I actually really like my job. I like that I've gotten to know the kids at this point. I really enjoy playing UNO with them especially. Nicholas, the multitasker, reading his Ripley's Believe it or Not picturebook while writing down his spelling words and playing UNO at the same time. Jonathan, so hard-working, my best bud. Even the older kids who prefer gossiping to working don't even get on my nerves anymore. I feel you, Wintana, I wouldn't want to do that lame-looking social studies homework either."
- "I am really, really looking forward to buy expensive new rain pants."
- "I am really, really looking forward to buying galoshes and not having sloshy water-filled shoes. Wretched Californian-purchased, Cambodian-made merchandise."
- "I have to write 4,000 words for NanoWrimo tonight in order to catch up with the quota I'm supposed to have. When did this stop being fun and start feeling like school again? A) When you no longer have a 3-day weekend. B) When you realized you are 16,000 words in and you have not yet explained why/how your main character thinks he is/actually is a werewolf. Considering this is the supposed central crux of your 'opus,' THIS IS SOMEWHAT OF A PROBLEM. C) You started rereading your work and editing it. NO, FOOL. THAT IS NOT THE POINT OF THE EXERCISE."
- "Wow, crashing my bike after going over those wet train tracks makes me want to cry."
- "Wow, crashing my bike after skidding to a stop on my turn-off on the Springwater Trail makes me make pitiful angry squeaks."
- "What happened to the little plastic black thingy on my bike handle? I came out of yoga class and it was gone. Was it stolen? Did it slip off from the rainwater and I didn't even notice it? It's just bare metal now. Makes my hand colder, and slippier. I hope it's not expensive to replace."
- "You know, I actually really like my job. I like that I've gotten to know the kids at this point. I really enjoy playing UNO with them especially. Nicholas, the multitasker, reading his Ripley's Believe it or Not picturebook while writing down his spelling words and playing UNO at the same time. Jonathan, so hard-working, my best bud. Even the older kids who prefer gossiping to working don't even get on my nerves anymore. I feel you, Wintana, I wouldn't want to do that lame-looking social studies homework either."
- "I am really, really looking forward to buy expensive new rain pants."
- "I am really, really looking forward to buying galoshes and not having sloshy water-filled shoes. Wretched Californian-purchased, Cambodian-made merchandise."
- "I have to write 4,000 words for NanoWrimo tonight in order to catch up with the quota I'm supposed to have. When did this stop being fun and start feeling like school again? A) When you no longer have a 3-day weekend. B) When you realized you are 16,000 words in and you have not yet explained why/how your main character thinks he is/actually is a werewolf. Considering this is the supposed central crux of your 'opus,' THIS IS SOMEWHAT OF A PROBLEM. C) You started rereading your work and editing it. NO, FOOL. THAT IS NOT THE POINT OF THE EXERCISE."
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Sun-day mor-ning
Last night and today were great! A dinner party that I originally thought was just going to be five people, but somewhere-somehow along the way it morphed into twelve. Cara had a friend visiting from L.A., and Laura's cousin was visiting from Montana, and then Cara's freshman year roommate showed up with two other Reed alumni, and then Savannah (another spring-fall senior) appeared with her man, and and and... well, the more the merrier! Matt was cooking that night and fortunately he made porcini-sausage-potato soup (an enormous pot of it still sits in our fridge and I've had two bowls today and counting), sauteed tuna steaks and cod rolled in hazelnut crumbs. Mmmmdelicious. I like this traditional saturday night dinner congregation we have going on. We've had people over for dinner every Saturday ever since we got back from Ecuador (almost two months now--where does the time go? I mean, I know it FLIES, but where does it GO?). I like it. I like the feelings of New Orleans-ish hospitality.
Everyone ended up sleeping on our floor. I guess I'm an early riser because I was up for ages before everyone else came downstairs. Corey made johnnycakes (pancakes with cornmuffin mix) and we made ghetto coffee, which involves a paper towel, tupperware and the microwave set on High. I got to talk to Corey's grandfather for a brief bit on the phone this morning. He has a sweet Cajun accent. He talked about how when he was sixteen he had eighteen girlfriends, or maybe how when he was eighteen he had sixteen gilfriends, and asked when I was going to come visit. Soon, hopefully?
We'd originally planned on going to the Bybee Hot Springs, but we got off to too late of a start, so instead we ended up going to Multnomah Falls, which is just as nice.
Not many mushrooms around, surprisingly, despite how wet and misty it was.
Some sad things have happened to some people who are close to me in the past two weeks. As I said to Cara, "It's just one thing after another, isn't it?" Another phrase I've become very fond of repeating is "Que drama." As well as a Colombian saying, "Que lio," which I'm not sure how to translate.
My mother and younger brother get here tomorrow. I have Monday and Tuesday off of work because of Veteran's day (Monday is a planning/meeting day for the teachers, or a puente as we called them in Colombia. It's kind of nice, I guess, though it basically means I won't be making money.
I've read "Persepolis" and "Watchmen" in Powell's the past week. "Watchmen" was great. "Persepolis" didn't grab me as much as I expected it to... maybe just because I've heard a lot of great things about it. Maybe if I go downtown tomorrow I'll continue the comic-books-on-days-off trend and read "Preacher"? Graphic novels are good books to read when I have a limited reading session because I tend to go through them very quickly ("Watchmen" took two sessions, "Persepolis" one).
I also read "The Dogs of Babel," a very engaging read written by a Wesleyan alumn(na? ni? whatevs, grammar police). It was just one of those books that you look forward to reading because it's easy to slip into the narrator's voice, so you make the extra effort to remember to put the book in your pack each morning so you can read it on the bus. I need to go to the central library to pick up the books I have on hold for me there (Orwell's "Burmese Days" and another one... can't remember what).
I'm supposedly reading "Ulysses" right now... but that's definitely a book that you just don't carry around to casually dip into from time to time. "Ulysses" expects dates, appointments. Your full mental attention. I've liked the first chapter so far, with all those ocean and water references. It makes me feel all smart and schtuff, like "oh yeah, I get the parallels with 'The Odyssey' here! Wine-dark sea and all that y'know, bitcheeeez." I love books where characters from other novels reappear (HI STEVEN!!). I love the whole small self-contained literary universe (YEAH SANTA MARÍA THEEZIZ REPREZENT). In that vein, the next book I definitely want to read is Bolano's latest opus. At least, it's his latest considering that it's his last. 'Cause he's dead. And stuff. I also need to track down the list of books I made in Ecuador to read that people recommended to me. Like Phillip K. Dick. I need to start making things-to-read lists again so that I'll have it clear in my mind what to get when I go to the library!
Today Cara told me that my ex-boyfriend asks about me every time he sees her. BOY THAT MADE ME FEEL WEIRD. When we got home from the falls I watched "Fargo" on youtube with my headphones while Corey played some online poker and listened to country music on pandora (my new favorite song is officially "Red Dirt Road"). Maybe these two things ("Fargo" and Caras comment) explain my somewhat ambivalent emotions towards the human race in general right now. Or maybe I'm just cross because I want to floss my teeth.
I wanted to write a post about how creepy/mildly fascinating it is to have such privileged, behind-the-scenes access to Obama's family (especially his daughters), but maybe instead of just writing a whole post about it, I'll just say that it's creepy. And yet mildly fascinating.
Everyone ended up sleeping on our floor. I guess I'm an early riser because I was up for ages before everyone else came downstairs. Corey made johnnycakes (pancakes with cornmuffin mix) and we made ghetto coffee, which involves a paper towel, tupperware and the microwave set on High. I got to talk to Corey's grandfather for a brief bit on the phone this morning. He has a sweet Cajun accent. He talked about how when he was sixteen he had eighteen girlfriends, or maybe how when he was eighteen he had sixteen gilfriends, and asked when I was going to come visit. Soon, hopefully?
We'd originally planned on going to the Bybee Hot Springs, but we got off to too late of a start, so instead we ended up going to Multnomah Falls, which is just as nice.
Not many mushrooms around, surprisingly, despite how wet and misty it was.
Some sad things have happened to some people who are close to me in the past two weeks. As I said to Cara, "It's just one thing after another, isn't it?" Another phrase I've become very fond of repeating is "Que drama." As well as a Colombian saying, "Que lio," which I'm not sure how to translate.
My mother and younger brother get here tomorrow. I have Monday and Tuesday off of work because of Veteran's day (Monday is a planning/meeting day for the teachers, or a puente as we called them in Colombia. It's kind of nice, I guess, though it basically means I won't be making money.
I've read "Persepolis" and "Watchmen" in Powell's the past week. "Watchmen" was great. "Persepolis" didn't grab me as much as I expected it to... maybe just because I've heard a lot of great things about it. Maybe if I go downtown tomorrow I'll continue the comic-books-on-days-off trend and read "Preacher"? Graphic novels are good books to read when I have a limited reading session because I tend to go through them very quickly ("Watchmen" took two sessions, "Persepolis" one).
I also read "The Dogs of Babel," a very engaging read written by a Wesleyan alumn(na? ni? whatevs, grammar police). It was just one of those books that you look forward to reading because it's easy to slip into the narrator's voice, so you make the extra effort to remember to put the book in your pack each morning so you can read it on the bus. I need to go to the central library to pick up the books I have on hold for me there (Orwell's "Burmese Days" and another one... can't remember what).I'm supposedly reading "Ulysses" right now... but that's definitely a book that you just don't carry around to casually dip into from time to time. "Ulysses" expects dates, appointments. Your full mental attention. I've liked the first chapter so far, with all those ocean and water references. It makes me feel all smart and schtuff, like "oh yeah, I get the parallels with 'The Odyssey' here! Wine-dark sea and all that y'know, bitcheeeez." I love books where characters from other novels reappear (HI STEVEN!!). I love the whole small self-contained literary universe (YEAH SANTA MARÍA THEEZIZ REPREZENT). In that vein, the next book I definitely want to read is Bolano's latest opus. At least, it's his latest considering that it's his last. 'Cause he's dead. And stuff. I also need to track down the list of books I made in Ecuador to read that people recommended to me. Like Phillip K. Dick. I need to start making things-to-read lists again so that I'll have it clear in my mind what to get when I go to the library!
Today Cara told me that my ex-boyfriend asks about me every time he sees her. BOY THAT MADE ME FEEL WEIRD. When we got home from the falls I watched "Fargo" on youtube with my headphones while Corey played some online poker and listened to country music on pandora (my new favorite song is officially "Red Dirt Road"). Maybe these two things ("Fargo" and Caras comment) explain my somewhat ambivalent emotions towards the human race in general right now. Or maybe I'm just cross because I want to floss my teeth.
I wanted to write a post about how creepy/mildly fascinating it is to have such privileged, behind-the-scenes access to Obama's family (especially his daughters), but maybe instead of just writing a whole post about it, I'll just say that it's creepy. And yet mildly fascinating.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
yester/today
Yesterday (...today?) didn't go so good.
I was nervous during class, so I didn't do as good of a job as I feel like I normally do. I was snappish with the kids.
While cleaning up at 8:30, the janitor told me that Obama had won the election.
While biking over to my friends' place, the people whooping in the streets and the fireworks going off served as a resounding confirmation.
We spent a long time in front of the TV and then in the bar.
Now I'm at home, in the armchair, about to get up and make some Sleepy Time tea. I feel strangely melancholy. Just drained, maybe?
I need to remember that I can't do everything right all of the time.
Tomorrow is a new day.
It's time to get to work.
I was nervous during class, so I didn't do as good of a job as I feel like I normally do. I was snappish with the kids.
While cleaning up at 8:30, the janitor told me that Obama had won the election.
While biking over to my friends' place, the people whooping in the streets and the fireworks going off served as a resounding confirmation.
We spent a long time in front of the TV and then in the bar.
Now I'm at home, in the armchair, about to get up and make some Sleepy Time tea. I feel strangely melancholy. Just drained, maybe?
I need to remember that I can't do everything right all of the time.
Tomorrow is a new day.
It's time to get to work.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
some ponderings regarding "a portrait"
- "It seemed strange to him at times that wisdom and understanding and knowledge were so distinct in their nature that each should be prayed for apart from the others." (Joyce, James. "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." Time Inc: New York, 1964. 163) Man, I wish I'd read this sentence in time with my thesis... I was wondering about the distinction myself. Thank you, Joyce, for proposing a similar dilemma.
- "His destiny was to be elusive of social and religious orders. The wisdom of the priest's appeal did not touch him to the quick. He was destined to learn his own wisdom apart from others or to learn the wisdom of others himself wandering among the snares of the world." (Joyce 178) The idea of "his own wisdom"... very interesting concept, that for all of us, there is a personalized wisdom to seek out there (or in here *knocks skull*)
- "Words. Was it their colors? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue... No, it was not their colors: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and color? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycolored and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?" (183)
I love this sentence! especially from "he drew" onwards.
- "Now, as never before, his name seemed to him a prophecy... he seemed to hear the noise of dim waves and to see a winged form flying above the waves and slowly climbing the air. What did it mean? ... a prophecy of the end he had been born to serve and had been following through the mists of childhood and boyhood, a symbol of the artist forging anew in his workshop out of the sluggish matter of the earth a new soaring impalpable imperishable being?" (186) Joyce sure knows how to write those epiphany moments.
This evening I was thinking about how difficult it is to keep the big picture in mind. So much of our daily lives--going to the can, eating oatmeal, running to get to the bus stop on time to get to where we're going, fumbling a cellphone in order not to miss a phone call from a family member or friend, staying up too late because you're trying to read and understand and gain knowledge about the current events and workings of the world--if you had the *big picture* in mind all the time, it would be incredibly difficult to do these things. At least, for me. When I proposed this to Corey, he told me that when I ask him what he's thinking (as girlfriends tend to do to boyfriends, after long periods of silence in bed together), when he says "nothing," he really means "everything," or the universe (i.e. the workings of it). I told him that I found this hard to believe, "or maybe I'm just too wordly." I dunno. Maybe I am.
It's all about balance, I guess. I'm such an incredibly emotional roller-coaster person anyway... so much about my day-to-day life, hour-to-hour even, is about me trying (sometimes struggling) to master my emotional energies; to maintain (as my counselor at Reed once put it) a middle ground, as opposed to crazy highs and lows. Maybe that's what I need to focus on, the "worldly" concerns of my own emotional-mental life. The rest of it just seems so big... thinking about this feels like a balloon inside my skull that is getting blown up and starts pushing up against the side of my cranium, threatening to pop.
I really like something Jess said to me once, though. She said that in all her traveling and all her experience (ha! that word, again), she felt that her own personal "self" was the greatest and most important project to work on. We can't save the world or even sometimes solve the current problem we're grappling with, but as human beings, we are all always works in progress, you know? I like this idea because it takes away the fear of being too self-absorbed... instead, maybe micro over macro?
anyway. I'm mailing my ballot tomorrow, and then, as my sister oh so sagely put it, "the fate of the world is in other people's hands." The fate of my own emotional and mental state, however... !
"Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race." (281)
"reality of experience!" Whatever *that* means....... another plane ticket bought to go here, to go there? Let me know if you find out, Stephen......
- "His destiny was to be elusive of social and religious orders. The wisdom of the priest's appeal did not touch him to the quick. He was destined to learn his own wisdom apart from others or to learn the wisdom of others himself wandering among the snares of the world." (Joyce 178) The idea of "his own wisdom"... very interesting concept, that for all of us, there is a personalized wisdom to seek out there (or in here *knocks skull*)
- "Words. Was it their colors? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue... No, it was not their colors: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and color? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycolored and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?" (183)
I love this sentence! especially from "he drew" onwards.
- "Now, as never before, his name seemed to him a prophecy... he seemed to hear the noise of dim waves and to see a winged form flying above the waves and slowly climbing the air. What did it mean? ... a prophecy of the end he had been born to serve and had been following through the mists of childhood and boyhood, a symbol of the artist forging anew in his workshop out of the sluggish matter of the earth a new soaring impalpable imperishable being?" (186) Joyce sure knows how to write those epiphany moments.
This evening I was thinking about how difficult it is to keep the big picture in mind. So much of our daily lives--going to the can, eating oatmeal, running to get to the bus stop on time to get to where we're going, fumbling a cellphone in order not to miss a phone call from a family member or friend, staying up too late because you're trying to read and understand and gain knowledge about the current events and workings of the world--if you had the *big picture* in mind all the time, it would be incredibly difficult to do these things. At least, for me. When I proposed this to Corey, he told me that when I ask him what he's thinking (as girlfriends tend to do to boyfriends, after long periods of silence in bed together), when he says "nothing," he really means "everything," or the universe (i.e. the workings of it). I told him that I found this hard to believe, "or maybe I'm just too wordly." I dunno. Maybe I am.
It's all about balance, I guess. I'm such an incredibly emotional roller-coaster person anyway... so much about my day-to-day life, hour-to-hour even, is about me trying (sometimes struggling) to master my emotional energies; to maintain (as my counselor at Reed once put it) a middle ground, as opposed to crazy highs and lows. Maybe that's what I need to focus on, the "worldly" concerns of my own emotional-mental life. The rest of it just seems so big... thinking about this feels like a balloon inside my skull that is getting blown up and starts pushing up against the side of my cranium, threatening to pop.
I really like something Jess said to me once, though. She said that in all her traveling and all her experience (ha! that word, again), she felt that her own personal "self" was the greatest and most important project to work on. We can't save the world or even sometimes solve the current problem we're grappling with, but as human beings, we are all always works in progress, you know? I like this idea because it takes away the fear of being too self-absorbed... instead, maybe micro over macro?
anyway. I'm mailing my ballot tomorrow, and then, as my sister oh so sagely put it, "the fate of the world is in other people's hands." The fate of my own emotional and mental state, however... !
"Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race." (281)
"reality of experience!" Whatever *that* means....... another plane ticket bought to go here, to go there? Let me know if you find out, Stephen......
Saturday, October 25, 2008
who watches the cheesy poofs
- Ate Cheetos for breakfast one morning and (unsurprisingly) felt deathly ill for hours afterwards.
- Suffered from a terrible cold (mainly congestion, still ongoing) and called off cleanse in order to hydrate self and take vitamins. Siiiiigh.
- Signed up for nanowrimo. Whatevs, chickens. I can’t wait to type trash for 1-2 hours per morning/late night.
- Had breakfast with my good friend Kati at Jam—it was so good seeing her again! We need to spend a *lot* more time together. She will always be my “jefa.” We even got to ride our bikes together around Hawthorne and stop at Buffalo Exchange in search for a Halloween costume.
- Briefly pondered dressing up as Sarah Palin. I’m probably just going to go as Ophelia again, third year and running.
- Bought underwear from the Nordstrom Rack. When all your underwear has holes in it and you realize you’ve owned the same pairs since ninth grade, it’s probably time to get some new unmentionables.
- Felt decidedly like a competent, capable teacher.
- Had a blast teaching ESL classes with weather and telling-time themes
- Had only two kids (my two favorites! Jonathon and Jon) show up for homework club on Thursday, so we spent an hour and a half just playing board games. Apparently I suck at Operation (I always make the man’s body buzz angrily and his nose glow red) and rock at Chinese Checkers (at least when competing fourth graders).
- Went to two yoga classes and decided I’m going to have to find a different studio. As nice as it is to have a studio close by in Sellwood, its schedule is just plain not compatible with mine. I need early morning classes, more than two times a week.
- Finished “Finding Orwell in Burma”; started “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” which I think I read in high school… at least, I remember the whooshing noise it made as the majority of it went completely over my head (that was a clumsily phrased metaphor).
- Started reading "Watchmen" upon Brian's recommendation, which is strangely compelling and unsurprisingly addictive. After I post this entry (I'm in the PSU lab) I'll probably stroll down to Powell's and read some more.
- Felt pleased about the election for the first time in yonks.
- Had the future become a little clearer. I don’t want to jinx anything, but if all goes well, hopefully we’ll be staying in Portland for the long-term.
- Enjoyed reading my horoscope for the next week, which advised me to exercise more “discipline” (perhaps in reference to the aforementioned cheesy poofs)
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Peace and goodness glowing
Sitting on the Lay-Z-Boy with my feet up, drinking an icy cold banana and strawberry juice--delicious, sweet and perfect. It's so sunny and beautiful outside right now that it's a shame I'm snuggled in here--the air has that kind of crisp coldness to it that reminds me of England.
Things really couldn't be better right now. I saw my mother and young bro off this morning, and while I enjoyed their visit, it's nice for it to be back to Corey and I again. This morning I went to my first yoga class, at this little nearby studio in Sellwood that only takes 15-20 minutes to bike to (depending how ferociously I pedal). I think yoga is going to be very good for me... I mean, my adviser told me to take it, for goodness sakes, so I obviously have to follow his advice, right? (I'll skip on the steak-eating part, though). Not just for stress, but also my body is pretty darn inflexible. I'm looking forward to see what changes take place over the next 4 weeks. I got a beginner's package of unlimited classes for 4 weeks, and even though I'm working in the afternoon/evenings I still have mornings free, so hopefully I'll get to go at least three times a week. I don't know if it's a placebo effect or if yoga is really THAT effective or what, but I feel incredibly calm and peaceful and centered right now. It might also be due to the fact that I'm doing a cleanse this week (the timing just felt right), hence the juice in my belly and the carrot juice jug in the fridge. I'm glad I'm taking care of my body. Biking has been fantastic but I need something else, you know?
The topic sentence of the previous paragraph bears repeating: things really couldn't be better right now. We made our biggest profit yet at the Milwaukie farmer's market today (every week we've doubled it), and next week is the last market, so it's bound to be crazy (especially if the weather is nice, *crosses fingers*). I get to spend time with my friends at bars, at Saturday night dinners at my house which have officially become a weekly tradition. I just read that Powell is backing Obama (surprise? Uhh... no). Last week's lessons went really well and I feel like an actual teacher. Other things are looking pleasingly promising, but I don't want to talk about them just yet because I don't want to jinx things. *knocks wood* Now I'm going to finish my juice, make some herbal tea, put on my warm fuzzy socks from Ecuador, and then indulge in any or all of my sweet, silly comfort foods: watching an episode of "House M.D.", watching high stakes or world series poker online (shutup it's addictive, especially once you start recognizing people and their personalities), or finishing "Finding George Orwell in Burma" (a most engaging and interesting book).
Things really couldn't be better right now. I saw my mother and young bro off this morning, and while I enjoyed their visit, it's nice for it to be back to Corey and I again. This morning I went to my first yoga class, at this little nearby studio in Sellwood that only takes 15-20 minutes to bike to (depending how ferociously I pedal). I think yoga is going to be very good for me... I mean, my adviser told me to take it, for goodness sakes, so I obviously have to follow his advice, right? (I'll skip on the steak-eating part, though). Not just for stress, but also my body is pretty darn inflexible. I'm looking forward to see what changes take place over the next 4 weeks. I got a beginner's package of unlimited classes for 4 weeks, and even though I'm working in the afternoon/evenings I still have mornings free, so hopefully I'll get to go at least three times a week. I don't know if it's a placebo effect or if yoga is really THAT effective or what, but I feel incredibly calm and peaceful and centered right now. It might also be due to the fact that I'm doing a cleanse this week (the timing just felt right), hence the juice in my belly and the carrot juice jug in the fridge. I'm glad I'm taking care of my body. Biking has been fantastic but I need something else, you know?
The topic sentence of the previous paragraph bears repeating: things really couldn't be better right now. We made our biggest profit yet at the Milwaukie farmer's market today (every week we've doubled it), and next week is the last market, so it's bound to be crazy (especially if the weather is nice, *crosses fingers*). I get to spend time with my friends at bars, at Saturday night dinners at my house which have officially become a weekly tradition. I just read that Powell is backing Obama (surprise? Uhh... no). Last week's lessons went really well and I feel like an actual teacher. Other things are looking pleasingly promising, but I don't want to talk about them just yet because I don't want to jinx things. *knocks wood* Now I'm going to finish my juice, make some herbal tea, put on my warm fuzzy socks from Ecuador, and then indulge in any or all of my sweet, silly comfort foods: watching an episode of "House M.D.", watching high stakes or world series poker online (shutup it's addictive, especially once you start recognizing people and their personalities), or finishing "Finding George Orwell in Burma" (a most engaging and interesting book).
Friday, October 10, 2008
housewifery
Today since I didn't have work, I spent the entire day cleaning the house. My mother and younger brother are flying in tonight from Colombia for a surprise visit (family drama, which will receive the Bill Clinton treatment in this blog--don't ask, don't tell). They'll be staying for seven to ten days, I'm not really sure. I think it's a good idea, because it'll let my young bro feel like he's actually got a life in Portland, as opposed to just lingering in this stale cloudy limbo. Anyway, so it gave me a good excuse to bust out the vacuum cleaner. I definitely have a crush on that little vacuum cleaner by now. It reminded me of WALL-E, scurrying loyally after me with just a gentle tug of its handle.
Throughout the day as I was cleaning--doing dishes, loading laundry, vacuum-vacuum, scrubbing toilets (OH! how I scrubbed those toilets!)--I kept thinking of songs or stories that have to do with cleaning houses. Liz Phair's "Canary" is one: "I clean the house, I jump when you circle the cherry, I sing like a good canary, I clean my mouth, 'cause froth comes out." Then there's Kate Bush's classic, "Get Out of My House," in which the lyrics "I wash the panes, I clean the stairs," sounds like a strange metaphor for "I wash the pain." Also, the image of the windows of a house weeping water make me think of eyes filled with tears. She also has that other song on her new album, "Mrs. Bartolutzi-whatzit," in which laundry is made to sound very sexy, as a man's trousers gets wrapped around a woman's dress. Ooh, lah-lah. She also squeaks "washing machine!" repetetively. Oh, Kate. I also remembered this Momintroll story by Tove Jansson, the Finish writer, about a Fillyjonk who goes crazy OCD-style scrubbing her steps by the seaside. In the end a giant tidal wave smashes her house to bits and she ends up liberated dancing on the sand. I think the story was called "The Fillyjonk who was afraid of disasters." Man, I loved Tove Jansson, especially her adult novels--I think they were called "A Winter Tale" and "A Summer Tale." Something about the seasons. Anyway. Highly recommended.
So on the whole house-cleaning isn't given a very good rap, at least within the canon of my high-school self's favorite music and literature. I can kind of see why this would be the case. I definitely reached a fillyjonk level of kooky myself there for a while, namely when I was on my knees picking up fluff from the carpet corners that the vacuum cleaner had failed to suck. Or maybe when I jumped in the bathtub bare-footed in my underpants to furiously scrub away the Clorox, yelping in pain from time to time as burning hot water scalded my toes (I always do house-cleaning in my underpants, I dunno, it's just more comfortable that way). Man, I sure hope Clorox doesn't get absorbed through the skin, 'cause I was wiped that stuff off with my bare fingers, apart from giddily splashing around in it. I'm pretty sure I overused it, too. I couldn't help myself... those toilets were mad gross (we were coming back from four months in the jungle, after all... use your imagination... or better yet, don't).
Still, despite its bad reputation, and tendency to make us girls go a little cahrahzee if we get too much of it, I still feel very Zen and satisfied. Cleaning has always been a good way to get stuff done. Throughout senior year and even now, whenever I'm particularly stressed or have had a bad day, I furiously clean the kitchen and load/unload the dishwasher. It's just a little way to feel like you're still a capable human being. You have to not get carried away and get depressed that even after all those hours of cleaning, you didn't take all the empty beer cans in your room out to the recycling bin, or mop the kitchen floor because you weren't sure of the effect of clorox of wood. You just have to know when to stop, you know?
And make the boy you're living with clean the toilets next time.
Throughout the day as I was cleaning--doing dishes, loading laundry, vacuum-vacuum, scrubbing toilets (OH! how I scrubbed those toilets!)--I kept thinking of songs or stories that have to do with cleaning houses. Liz Phair's "Canary" is one: "I clean the house, I jump when you circle the cherry, I sing like a good canary, I clean my mouth, 'cause froth comes out." Then there's Kate Bush's classic, "Get Out of My House," in which the lyrics "I wash the panes, I clean the stairs," sounds like a strange metaphor for "I wash the pain." Also, the image of the windows of a house weeping water make me think of eyes filled with tears. She also has that other song on her new album, "Mrs. Bartolutzi-whatzit," in which laundry is made to sound very sexy, as a man's trousers gets wrapped around a woman's dress. Ooh, lah-lah. She also squeaks "washing machine!" repetetively. Oh, Kate. I also remembered this Momintroll story by Tove Jansson, the Finish writer, about a Fillyjonk who goes crazy OCD-style scrubbing her steps by the seaside. In the end a giant tidal wave smashes her house to bits and she ends up liberated dancing on the sand. I think the story was called "The Fillyjonk who was afraid of disasters." Man, I loved Tove Jansson, especially her adult novels--I think they were called "A Winter Tale" and "A Summer Tale." Something about the seasons. Anyway. Highly recommended.
So on the whole house-cleaning isn't given a very good rap, at least within the canon of my high-school self's favorite music and literature. I can kind of see why this would be the case. I definitely reached a fillyjonk level of kooky myself there for a while, namely when I was on my knees picking up fluff from the carpet corners that the vacuum cleaner had failed to suck. Or maybe when I jumped in the bathtub bare-footed in my underpants to furiously scrub away the Clorox, yelping in pain from time to time as burning hot water scalded my toes (I always do house-cleaning in my underpants, I dunno, it's just more comfortable that way). Man, I sure hope Clorox doesn't get absorbed through the skin, 'cause I was wiped that stuff off with my bare fingers, apart from giddily splashing around in it. I'm pretty sure I overused it, too. I couldn't help myself... those toilets were mad gross (we were coming back from four months in the jungle, after all... use your imagination... or better yet, don't).
Still, despite its bad reputation, and tendency to make us girls go a little cahrahzee if we get too much of it, I still feel very Zen and satisfied. Cleaning has always been a good way to get stuff done. Throughout senior year and even now, whenever I'm particularly stressed or have had a bad day, I furiously clean the kitchen and load/unload the dishwasher. It's just a little way to feel like you're still a capable human being. You have to not get carried away and get depressed that even after all those hours of cleaning, you didn't take all the empty beer cans in your room out to the recycling bin, or mop the kitchen floor because you weren't sure of the effect of clorox of wood. You just have to know when to stop, you know?
And make the boy you're living with clean the toilets next time.
Friday, October 3, 2008
random notes
- I chugged the cup of coffee I paid 75 cents to refill because I forgot about it and thus it got stale and cold as I plugged grimly through learning about adverbs for the TEFL course, and as an effect I feel especially jittery and frantic.
- I AM SO GLAD that I put my rain pants on this morning. Getting soaked yesterday while biking frantically around looking for a Fed-Ex place with a fax machine that was still open was a useful lesson. The sunny weather was nice while it lasted, now the English-style weather that my father claims makes Portland especially appealing to my mother has kicked in full-force. I wish my rain pants were 100% rain proof, though. And my shoes. Sad face.
- I biked to one school to sign a contract, only to be told that the contract was not ready yet. Then I was called at 4:30 by the main supervisor there, asking why I didn't show up to sign the contract, which is 100% ready. Guys you need to work on the inter-office communication skills because now I have to come in on Monday, AGAIN, to sign this thing. ALSO! PLEASE GET BACK TO ME ABOUT THE POSITION I APPLIED FOR ON THE DAY THAT YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD. Don't suddenly e-mail me out of the blue two weeks later when I've already given you up as a lost cause.
- A mean man yelled an obscenity at me on my bike this morning. It upset me. I think people in Clackamas are less used to commuters, hence the more hostile attitudes. In Multnomah everyone always politely and kindly yields.
- I paid a poodle of money to get my brakes fixed yesterday. Despite Corey's insistence that he could have just done it himself, more than anything I was paying for the convenience of having it fixed NOW, RIGHT AWAY, as opposed to going through the fuss of figuring out what parts I needed, and then cornering Corey when he had free time to fix it (and trust me, he doesn't have much of it). I guess the cost of getting my bike fixed 3-4 times a year still beats out the cost of gas, car insurance, etc.
- Watched the debates last night at Laura's house. We played Palin Bingo. I got a lot of "umm," "Family," and "maverick." GO BIDEN! He is straight out of a Bruce Springsteen song.
- My mother keeps sending me e-mails for jobs like Nestle Customer Service Representative.
- I AM SO GLAD that I put my rain pants on this morning. Getting soaked yesterday while biking frantically around looking for a Fed-Ex place with a fax machine that was still open was a useful lesson. The sunny weather was nice while it lasted, now the English-style weather that my father claims makes Portland especially appealing to my mother has kicked in full-force. I wish my rain pants were 100% rain proof, though. And my shoes. Sad face.
- I biked to one school to sign a contract, only to be told that the contract was not ready yet. Then I was called at 4:30 by the main supervisor there, asking why I didn't show up to sign the contract, which is 100% ready. Guys you need to work on the inter-office communication skills because now I have to come in on Monday, AGAIN, to sign this thing. ALSO! PLEASE GET BACK TO ME ABOUT THE POSITION I APPLIED FOR ON THE DAY THAT YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD. Don't suddenly e-mail me out of the blue two weeks later when I've already given you up as a lost cause.
- A mean man yelled an obscenity at me on my bike this morning. It upset me. I think people in Clackamas are less used to commuters, hence the more hostile attitudes. In Multnomah everyone always politely and kindly yields.
- I paid a poodle of money to get my brakes fixed yesterday. Despite Corey's insistence that he could have just done it himself, more than anything I was paying for the convenience of having it fixed NOW, RIGHT AWAY, as opposed to going through the fuss of figuring out what parts I needed, and then cornering Corey when he had free time to fix it (and trust me, he doesn't have much of it). I guess the cost of getting my bike fixed 3-4 times a year still beats out the cost of gas, car insurance, etc.
- Watched the debates last night at Laura's house. We played Palin Bingo. I got a lot of "umm," "Family," and "maverick." GO BIDEN! He is straight out of a Bruce Springsteen song.
- My mother keeps sending me e-mails for jobs like Nestle Customer Service Representative.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
sweet
I now have two part-time jobs, both as an ESL teacher.
Things don't turn out the way you expect them to. The position I thought I wanted turned out to be one I ABSOLUTELY TOTALLY DO NOT WANT, while the interview that I came thisclose to not going to turned out to be for a position that I now really, really want (and hope I'll get... have to wait till tomorrow!).
The interview position that I thought I really wanted took place in a dark and dank smelling building. Every instinct in my stomach and gut twisted in rubber octopus knots and screeched "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE." The interview was conducted interrogation-style across a long narrow table, me sitting at one end, the three in charge-folks sitting at the other end. It was an interview I totally bombed. At one point, I was asked whether I was task-oriented or relationship-oriented. I replied that I didn't really believe in strict categories but I guessed that I was relationship-oriented (although I also liked to do tasks, I added). The person who asked me got really defensive... maybe they thought I was criticizing? Oh, dear. I feel kind of bad because my friend set it up for me, so I secretly hope I don't get it... it'll certainly make things easier.
The funny thing is even though I got lost about 8 times trying to get to my interview this morning (the first one so far in Clackamas), and I came thisclose to not showing up at all and just doing this completely rude bail-out, once I found the place it ended up being the best interview I've had so far (or at least, I think so... but then again I'm terrible at judging these things). Even though I would have to bike across several terrifying freeways to get there, and it'll take me a while to actually figure out how to get there (I still got lost trying to find my back back), I hope I get this one, because it's a) close and b) more importantly I think I'll like the people who work there. You never can tell, I guess. But anyway. Guess I'll know by Friday. There's a leetle bit of a time conflict with the ESL jobs, which start at 6, but the lady who interviewed me knew both the contacts at the school, so maybe if she really wants me she'll help me ask for the ESL classes to be pushed back to 6:15 or 6:30pm? Otherwise I'm going to have a hell of a time. Or at least a decision to make. Ugh.
The fun thing about funemployment (though I guess that starting Monday the "fun" will be gone, leaving "employment"--ha!) is getting to be a mad hardcore biker and exploring all these crazy new neighborhoods in Portland. I never thought I'd be riding around in places like SE 174th and Powell or SE 92nd and Harold, but there you go.
Things don't turn out the way you expect them to. The position I thought I wanted turned out to be one I ABSOLUTELY TOTALLY DO NOT WANT, while the interview that I came thisclose to not going to turned out to be for a position that I now really, really want (and hope I'll get... have to wait till tomorrow!).
The interview position that I thought I really wanted took place in a dark and dank smelling building. Every instinct in my stomach and gut twisted in rubber octopus knots and screeched "YOU DON'T BELONG HERE, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE." The interview was conducted interrogation-style across a long narrow table, me sitting at one end, the three in charge-folks sitting at the other end. It was an interview I totally bombed. At one point, I was asked whether I was task-oriented or relationship-oriented. I replied that I didn't really believe in strict categories but I guessed that I was relationship-oriented (although I also liked to do tasks, I added). The person who asked me got really defensive... maybe they thought I was criticizing? Oh, dear. I feel kind of bad because my friend set it up for me, so I secretly hope I don't get it... it'll certainly make things easier.
The funny thing is even though I got lost about 8 times trying to get to my interview this morning (the first one so far in Clackamas), and I came thisclose to not showing up at all and just doing this completely rude bail-out, once I found the place it ended up being the best interview I've had so far (or at least, I think so... but then again I'm terrible at judging these things). Even though I would have to bike across several terrifying freeways to get there, and it'll take me a while to actually figure out how to get there (I still got lost trying to find my back back), I hope I get this one, because it's a) close and b) more importantly I think I'll like the people who work there. You never can tell, I guess. But anyway. Guess I'll know by Friday. There's a leetle bit of a time conflict with the ESL jobs, which start at 6, but the lady who interviewed me knew both the contacts at the school, so maybe if she really wants me she'll help me ask for the ESL classes to be pushed back to 6:15 or 6:30pm? Otherwise I'm going to have a hell of a time. Or at least a decision to make. Ugh.
The fun thing about funemployment (though I guess that starting Monday the "fun" will be gone, leaving "employment"--ha!) is getting to be a mad hardcore biker and exploring all these crazy new neighborhoods in Portland. I never thought I'd be riding around in places like SE 174th and Powell or SE 92nd and Harold, but there you go.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
"Goodbye, Mr. Keating"
I hated that movie. But I like the list of motivations of why people choose to become literature majors. And his discussion of social justice and political ideology.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Milwaukie living
Corey and I are getting to know our new neighborhood pretty well. In the past week we've biked to the Dollar store and to this awesome sale at REI--we arrived in the last hour at the former, just when the 30% off signs were being switched to 60% off. Pretty sweet. I finally got a rain jacket after four years of being wet and sniffly.
I turned down the job at the Boys & Girls Club because I didn't think I was the right person for it. I'm still looking... I mean, I've only been back in PDX for eleven days, for goodness sakes, so I should go a little easy on myself! I have an interview tomorrow morning to be an ESL teacher. It's such a pet peeve of mine when people don't get back to me or follow up to the applications I send them.
We went to the Milwaukie Farmer's market this morning. Surprisingly, there was no culinary mushroom stand in sight! So we talked to the market managers, and hopefully by Wednesday we'll hear back from them if they have a space available to rent us. They sure did seem excited about having a mushroom stand, so that was definitely a good sign. The idea of going into the mushroom-selling business still feels a little hard for my brain to wrap around. But very appealing. We found about 20 pounds of chanterelles and lobsters last Friday alone.
I have 54 seconds remaining on the public library computer, so I guess I'm going to have to go ahead and post this.
I turned down the job at the Boys & Girls Club because I didn't think I was the right person for it. I'm still looking... I mean, I've only been back in PDX for eleven days, for goodness sakes, so I should go a little easy on myself! I have an interview tomorrow morning to be an ESL teacher. It's such a pet peeve of mine when people don't get back to me or follow up to the applications I send them.
We went to the Milwaukie Farmer's market this morning. Surprisingly, there was no culinary mushroom stand in sight! So we talked to the market managers, and hopefully by Wednesday we'll hear back from them if they have a space available to rent us. They sure did seem excited about having a mushroom stand, so that was definitely a good sign. The idea of going into the mushroom-selling business still feels a little hard for my brain to wrap around. But very appealing. We found about 20 pounds of chanterelles and lobsters last Friday alone.
I have 54 seconds remaining on the public library computer, so I guess I'm going to have to go ahead and post this.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
BACK IN PDX!
I've been back in Portland for all of six days, which is almost a week, I guess. Corey's dad arrived from New Orleans to visit us in Portland exactly 12 hours after we arrived from Quito. It was an exceptionally long journey, complete with food poisoning in the Dallas airport, then arriving at the new house to discover that the keys didn't work. COLOMBIAN KEYMAKERS = FAIL. Laura and Cara (who picked us up) were absolute DEARS and drove us back downtown so that I could meet up with my brother, get his keys and then drive back. All this with cramping and nauseau!
I spent the next day completely wiped out. On Friday I rode 40284934928 buses in strange dark corners of SE Portland. I ended up in the Gateway Transit center TWICE by accident, because I got on the wrong bus heading the wrong direction. Julie's navigation skills = STILL A FAIL! So far, out of the three interviews I had, I have one yes, one no, and one I'm still waiting for. The 'yes' I don't want, the 'no' I wanted, and the 'waiting for,' I am ambivalent. Such is the post-graduate employment quest......
This morning Corey and I biked downtown to PSU so he could meet with his adviser about working in the lab this semester and I could work on job applications and try to figure out how to register for the GREs. I thought that you had to take them on October 25th, but it looks like this may not be the case? I guess you can take them.... whenever you want? Depending on what the respective universities you're applying to request? I also need to remember to stop by the Career Services office to photocopy/borrow their GRE practice tests. Because I am a broke mofo and $35 per book in Powells is a no-no.
Anyway, the bike ride downtown this morning took approximately an hour, which is not bad at all, especially considering my chunky belly from a summer of pollo and papitas. 12 miles, most of it along the beautiful Springwater Trail. When we got to PSU I was high and tingly all over. Bikes are pretty wonderful, what can I say. I'm excited about biking everywhere and getting mad buff.
Other things:
- Went mushroom hunting with Corey and his dad on the coast. We experienced a moment of horror when we thought the porcini were infected with this terrifying white-powdery mold, but then much to our relief Corey deduced that they were another species, Old Man something, which is good because first of all it is waaay too early for the porcini to be out and second of all they are so delicious, a mold that killed them all would be really sad.
I spent the next day completely wiped out. On Friday I rode 40284934928 buses in strange dark corners of SE Portland. I ended up in the Gateway Transit center TWICE by accident, because I got on the wrong bus heading the wrong direction. Julie's navigation skills = STILL A FAIL! So far, out of the three interviews I had, I have one yes, one no, and one I'm still waiting for. The 'yes' I don't want, the 'no' I wanted, and the 'waiting for,' I am ambivalent. Such is the post-graduate employment quest......
This morning Corey and I biked downtown to PSU so he could meet with his adviser about working in the lab this semester and I could work on job applications and try to figure out how to register for the GREs. I thought that you had to take them on October 25th, but it looks like this may not be the case? I guess you can take them.... whenever you want? Depending on what the respective universities you're applying to request? I also need to remember to stop by the Career Services office to photocopy/borrow their GRE practice tests. Because I am a broke mofo and $35 per book in Powells is a no-no.
Anyway, the bike ride downtown this morning took approximately an hour, which is not bad at all, especially considering my chunky belly from a summer of pollo and papitas. 12 miles, most of it along the beautiful Springwater Trail. When we got to PSU I was high and tingly all over. Bikes are pretty wonderful, what can I say. I'm excited about biking everywhere and getting mad buff.
Other things:
- Went mushroom hunting with Corey and his dad on the coast. We experienced a moment of horror when we thought the porcini were infected with this terrifying white-powdery mold, but then much to our relief Corey deduced that they were another species, Old Man something, which is good because first of all it is waaay too early for the porcini to be out and second of all they are so delicious, a mold that killed them all would be really sad.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
LAST DAY IN QUITO!
I just printed out 984389238402 maps in order to help myself figure out how to navigate around my strange new neighborhood of Milwaukie, especially to and from interview sites.
To-do today: turn in mushroom info poster/sheet to Jungal Tours, trip to market to pick up last minute gifts, and then maybe if we´re ambitious (probably not) a trip to the dentist. Home to pack up the stray things lying around the house, such as toothbrush, pajama pants, etc. Then we need to set the alarm for 4AM in order to be at the airport two hours in advance for our flight (6.45 AM = FAIL)
I´m afraid of going back to the States. I´m afraid of having no health care and media saturation. Well, we have a return ticket in January, I guess.
The thunderous African music orchestra playing on the screen behind me has had the extra effect of making me especially jumpy and jittery.
To-do today: turn in mushroom info poster/sheet to Jungal Tours, trip to market to pick up last minute gifts, and then maybe if we´re ambitious (probably not) a trip to the dentist. Home to pack up the stray things lying around the house, such as toothbrush, pajama pants, etc. Then we need to set the alarm for 4AM in order to be at the airport two hours in advance for our flight (6.45 AM = FAIL)
I´m afraid of going back to the States. I´m afraid of having no health care and media saturation. Well, we have a return ticket in January, I guess.
The thunderous African music orchestra playing on the screen behind me has had the extra effect of making me especially jumpy and jittery.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
More Books Read In Ecuador
Here are some more reviews of books I read in Ecuador.
Lies My Teacher Told Me (James W. Loewen)
This book seemed okay to me at the time when I read it, and then exceedingly less interesting after I read ¨A People´s History of the U.S.¨ The information in both books is basically the same! At least this book employed a copious amount of footnotes, making his claim of a plague that killed off the majority of the Indians before the Spanish got there decidedly less dubious. My eighth-grade self would have probably really liked it.
Rating: Don´t Bother
Intelligence in Nature
A very hippy-dippy book, donated to the house by one of the beloved tour members, who herself was somewhat hippy-dippy but also very cool (throughout the tour I kept thinking ¨wow, I want to be just like you when I grow up!¨, minus the Dead Head phase, I guess). Throughout this book I kept wishing that it had been written by a scientist instead of an anthropologist. Anthropology´s fine and dandy, it´s just that every time the author self-righteously asked one of his interviewees whether they thought it was moral to do experiments on butterflies and slime mold (!), the inner hippie-dippy hater in me cringed. However, it was an interesting enough book, very readable, an anthropologist´s attempt to answer the question ¨is there intelligence in nature?¨ which inevitably leads to all sorts of other questions, like ¨what is knowledge?¨ which I liked a lot, because it reminded me a lot of (WHAM!) my thesis.
There was one quote in the book that I liked enough to write down, in the last chapter, which was about nature´s constant tendency to transform itself: Now other species seem more human to me, and humans seem more natural. Recognizing that the capacity to know exists outside humanity leads to a richer, more adventurous, and more comfortable life. Instead of trampling blindly all over the planet, we see that life´s prodigious powers are housed in all its denizens.¨ I like the idea of the necessity for constant change. I guess I fear growing stagnant, stale, crusty and moldy over the edges. It´s been a long time since I´ve had a routine. Never mind, I guess going to classes is a routine of sorts. It´s really kind of ridiculous how thrown out-there you are into the world after college. Another adventure!
Rating: Maybe Read This, If It Seems Like Your Thing
The Prophet
Definitely one of my favorite books now. I´d started but never finished it a dozen times before, but on a quiet day that I meant to be deliberately meditative and introspective, this was the perfect book to read. I can´t really describe it… the closest fiction author I was reminded of was Calvino, minus the po-mo stylistics. Anyway, you should just own a copy of this book in your house, so that way, one day when you´re in the right mood (preferably after doing yoga and listening in full to Tori Amos´ Under the Pink, you can read it.
Rating: Read This Before You Die
A People´s History of the United States
Again, another book that took me all summer to read. Even now I´m still not sure if I technically read it ¨all,¨ since the majority of it was consumed at bus stops, with me flipping around to different sections, depending on what I felt like reading about at the time. There might be a part in there about early revolutionary America I never got around to. But yeah, I knew this was a famous, best-selling book, so I was surprised at the strong Socialist Rhetoric. I thought America hated socialists! Anyway, one thing I found completely, emphatically unforgivable about this book was the fact that HE DOESN´T USE FOOTNOTES. HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A PROPER HISTORIAN AND NOT USE FOOTNOTES? THE MIND BOOGLES. End caps lock. The lack of footnotes somewhat ruined this book for me, in a sense, because it meant that anything he said, I automatically questioned myself, ¨where´s the source for this? Is he just pulling this out of his butt?¨
Anyway, just so you know, the most interesting chapters of this book deal with the labor and union strikes of the early 20th century. Maybe I´m just biased, because that´s a period of history I know very little about (Corey said he preferred the Civil War and Reconstruction bits, which are good too, if a bit skimpy, perhaps unavoidable in a book this large). Also, I thoroughly enjoyed reading the chapters about Reagan and Clinton, again, another period of history I know very little about, even though Clinton was the president throughout my childhood. I was too young and out of it to care about politics, though, the most memorable things I remember thinking about the Clinton presidency is reading in the Scholastic newsletter in first grade that Clinton played the saxophone and thinking that was very exciting.
Rating: Read The Parts of This Book That Seem Interesting To You Personally
Collected Fictions (Borges)
This book is awesome, Borges is awesome, what more can I say. I can´t believe it took me this long in life to finally read Borges from cover to cover, as opposed to just the odd Borges tale in class and different compilations. I especially like how the book jacket in this edition includes ¨tigers¨ as one of Borges constant themes, among the more obvious: labyrinths, libraries, detectives, gauchos, and so on. Really, I´ll have to go away for a while and then come back before I can write eloquently about Borges. He makes me want to continue studying literature, and that´s saying something. ¨The South¨ with its amazing last sentence and ¨The Aleph¨ are two of my favorites.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
I also reread ¨American Gods¨, ¨Three Cups of Tea¨ and ¨The Trial.¨ All good, read-now-recommendable books. I have yet to finish ¨Open Veins of Latin America¨ and ¨Crude Chronicles,¨ both books I´ve started at least two other times during my college days, but alas, have never managed to get all the way through. I don´t know why. It´s just like with me and Virginia Woolf´s (whom I greatly admire) ¨To the Lighthouse¨: there are just some books you have in your life that you always, always begin but never, ever seem to be able to get through.
In other news:
- Our time in Ecuador is drawing to an end! Only three days left!
- Corey´s dad is coming to visit us on September 19th, exactly two days after we get back from Ecuador! He´s staying in the house with us! Hopefully we´ll rent a car and go mushroom hunting! Hopefully I won´t seem hopelessly burnt-out and strung-out in the classic Pachico way, and instead will be able to adopt some of the easy-going, chill nature that is the Way of the Guidrys.
- I have three interviews lined up, two afterschool teaching jobs and one at a Boys & Girls club.
- I decided not to apply for the Fulbright because 1) I´m too lazy to finish the application, 2) I don´t really want to do it, even in the rare chance that I actuall got it, and 3) our new housemate-roommate is a Fulbright scholar himself and a bit of a turd who wants to work for the F.B.I. and corporate America and dismissed the Fulbright as ¨something that´ll make my resume look good¨ as opposed to an opportunity to do something genuinely wicked cool and helpful and great and amazing. I know you´re not supposed to let one bad apple spoil the barrell, but still, the exchange left a sour taste in my mouth about the whole thing. I think I´d rather do cool stuff on my own, as opposed to on the federal government dollar, bearing the time when I actualyly *want* and *need* it, as opposed to just applying out of my half-assed tendency to want to apply for EVERYTHING.
- I´ve been doing a cleanse/juice fast, just because it felt like it was the right time for it. I never thought I would be full from just drinking maracuya juice, but there you go. This has been a good way for me to learn to 1) exercise my willpower and self-control, two things that definitely always need constant work, and 2) how to be hungry without being cranky and intolerable, as I usually am. We´ll see how I feel by the end of today. Will I feel high and detached in the best Zen sense, or merely... intolerable?
Lies My Teacher Told Me (James W. Loewen)
This book seemed okay to me at the time when I read it, and then exceedingly less interesting after I read ¨A People´s History of the U.S.¨ The information in both books is basically the same! At least this book employed a copious amount of footnotes, making his claim of a plague that killed off the majority of the Indians before the Spanish got there decidedly less dubious. My eighth-grade self would have probably really liked it.
Rating: Don´t Bother
Intelligence in Nature
A very hippy-dippy book, donated to the house by one of the beloved tour members, who herself was somewhat hippy-dippy but also very cool (throughout the tour I kept thinking ¨wow, I want to be just like you when I grow up!¨, minus the Dead Head phase, I guess). Throughout this book I kept wishing that it had been written by a scientist instead of an anthropologist. Anthropology´s fine and dandy, it´s just that every time the author self-righteously asked one of his interviewees whether they thought it was moral to do experiments on butterflies and slime mold (!), the inner hippie-dippy hater in me cringed. However, it was an interesting enough book, very readable, an anthropologist´s attempt to answer the question ¨is there intelligence in nature?¨ which inevitably leads to all sorts of other questions, like ¨what is knowledge?¨ which I liked a lot, because it reminded me a lot of (WHAM!) my thesis.
There was one quote in the book that I liked enough to write down, in the last chapter, which was about nature´s constant tendency to transform itself: Now other species seem more human to me, and humans seem more natural. Recognizing that the capacity to know exists outside humanity leads to a richer, more adventurous, and more comfortable life. Instead of trampling blindly all over the planet, we see that life´s prodigious powers are housed in all its denizens.¨ I like the idea of the necessity for constant change. I guess I fear growing stagnant, stale, crusty and moldy over the edges. It´s been a long time since I´ve had a routine. Never mind, I guess going to classes is a routine of sorts. It´s really kind of ridiculous how thrown out-there you are into the world after college. Another adventure!
Rating: Maybe Read This, If It Seems Like Your Thing
The Prophet
Definitely one of my favorite books now. I´d started but never finished it a dozen times before, but on a quiet day that I meant to be deliberately meditative and introspective, this was the perfect book to read. I can´t really describe it… the closest fiction author I was reminded of was Calvino, minus the po-mo stylistics. Anyway, you should just own a copy of this book in your house, so that way, one day when you´re in the right mood (preferably after doing yoga and listening in full to Tori Amos´ Under the Pink, you can read it.
Rating: Read This Before You Die
A People´s History of the United States
Again, another book that took me all summer to read. Even now I´m still not sure if I technically read it ¨all,¨ since the majority of it was consumed at bus stops, with me flipping around to different sections, depending on what I felt like reading about at the time. There might be a part in there about early revolutionary America I never got around to. But yeah, I knew this was a famous, best-selling book, so I was surprised at the strong Socialist Rhetoric. I thought America hated socialists! Anyway, one thing I found completely, emphatically unforgivable about this book was the fact that HE DOESN´T USE FOOTNOTES. HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A PROPER HISTORIAN AND NOT USE FOOTNOTES? THE MIND BOOGLES. End caps lock. The lack of footnotes somewhat ruined this book for me, in a sense, because it meant that anything he said, I automatically questioned myself, ¨where´s the source for this? Is he just pulling this out of his butt?¨
Anyway, just so you know, the most interesting chapters of this book deal with the labor and union strikes of the early 20th century. Maybe I´m just biased, because that´s a period of history I know very little about (Corey said he preferred the Civil War and Reconstruction bits, which are good too, if a bit skimpy, perhaps unavoidable in a book this large). Also, I thoroughly enjoyed reading the chapters about Reagan and Clinton, again, another period of history I know very little about, even though Clinton was the president throughout my childhood. I was too young and out of it to care about politics, though, the most memorable things I remember thinking about the Clinton presidency is reading in the Scholastic newsletter in first grade that Clinton played the saxophone and thinking that was very exciting.
Rating: Read The Parts of This Book That Seem Interesting To You Personally
Collected Fictions (Borges)
This book is awesome, Borges is awesome, what more can I say. I can´t believe it took me this long in life to finally read Borges from cover to cover, as opposed to just the odd Borges tale in class and different compilations. I especially like how the book jacket in this edition includes ¨tigers¨ as one of Borges constant themes, among the more obvious: labyrinths, libraries, detectives, gauchos, and so on. Really, I´ll have to go away for a while and then come back before I can write eloquently about Borges. He makes me want to continue studying literature, and that´s saying something. ¨The South¨ with its amazing last sentence and ¨The Aleph¨ are two of my favorites.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
I also reread ¨American Gods¨, ¨Three Cups of Tea¨ and ¨The Trial.¨ All good, read-now-recommendable books. I have yet to finish ¨Open Veins of Latin America¨ and ¨Crude Chronicles,¨ both books I´ve started at least two other times during my college days, but alas, have never managed to get all the way through. I don´t know why. It´s just like with me and Virginia Woolf´s (whom I greatly admire) ¨To the Lighthouse¨: there are just some books you have in your life that you always, always begin but never, ever seem to be able to get through.
In other news:
- Our time in Ecuador is drawing to an end! Only three days left!
- Corey´s dad is coming to visit us on September 19th, exactly two days after we get back from Ecuador! He´s staying in the house with us! Hopefully we´ll rent a car and go mushroom hunting! Hopefully I won´t seem hopelessly burnt-out and strung-out in the classic Pachico way, and instead will be able to adopt some of the easy-going, chill nature that is the Way of the Guidrys.
- I have three interviews lined up, two afterschool teaching jobs and one at a Boys & Girls club.
- I decided not to apply for the Fulbright because 1) I´m too lazy to finish the application, 2) I don´t really want to do it, even in the rare chance that I actuall got it, and 3) our new housemate-roommate is a Fulbright scholar himself and a bit of a turd who wants to work for the F.B.I. and corporate America and dismissed the Fulbright as ¨something that´ll make my resume look good¨ as opposed to an opportunity to do something genuinely wicked cool and helpful and great and amazing. I know you´re not supposed to let one bad apple spoil the barrell, but still, the exchange left a sour taste in my mouth about the whole thing. I think I´d rather do cool stuff on my own, as opposed to on the federal government dollar, bearing the time when I actualyly *want* and *need* it, as opposed to just applying out of my half-assed tendency to want to apply for EVERYTHING.
- I´ve been doing a cleanse/juice fast, just because it felt like it was the right time for it. I never thought I would be full from just drinking maracuya juice, but there you go. This has been a good way for me to learn to 1) exercise my willpower and self-control, two things that definitely always need constant work, and 2) how to be hungry without being cranky and intolerable, as I usually am. We´ll see how I feel by the end of today. Will I feel high and detached in the best Zen sense, or merely... intolerable?
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Books Read So Far in Ecuador
I´ve been in Ecaudor for almost two months now, so I thought I´d do a little catch-up on what books I´ve been reading here, during that time.
Quarantine by Jim Crace
This is the first book I read in Ecuador, during that first week when we were bussing across the country with Jess´ parents. I´d read it before back in ninth grade, but I think (no, I know) most of it went over my head. The main scene I remembered from the first time I read it is the part when a dead donkey is thrown off the cliff but the other folks in quarantine, and Jesus in his little cave, twitching in a hallucinatory state, thinks that it´s a demon-angel falling from the heavens to further test his will.
I love historical retelling what-if fiction, and this one is particularly delicious since the particular history it reinterprets is Jesus´ 40 days in the desert. Such a set-up leads to numerous great scenes as Jesus descends further into hunger and nakedness and bare desert craziness (to paraphrase ¨Lawerence of Arabia¨: ¨only gods and Bedouins enjoy the desert, Lawrence, and you´re neither¨). I especially like the parts describing just how damn boring it gets, being in the desert for forty days and forty nights--in this novel, Jesus deals with his boredom by writing words from Roman coins with his fingers in the sand and soon he finds this more useful and rewarding than his prayers.
I like how in the end, Jesus´ miracle abilities are left ambiguous. Is he just the Galilean equivalent of ¨Into the Wild,¨ or genuine miracle man? Also, I thought it was really interesting that Jesus´ biggest fan throughout the book was the supposed villain, the merchant. In the end I couldn´t decide if this was a kind of dramatic irony--the reader knows the merchant is right in the end, perhaps granting him a little more sympathy--or if it was supposed to be a kind of commentary on the ultimate commercialization and marketeability of Jesus. It makes sense in a way, that Jesus´ biggest cheerleader would be a merchant: Jesus as brand product has certainly led to a lot of money for a lot of people, as the merchant in ¨Quarantine¨ astutely and accurately sensed.
Rating: Read This Book
I Came Not Alone by I don´t remember
I picked this up off of Jess and Brian´s bookshelf and read it in a single session during one of those rare time-off days we had, hanging around in Quito. I wanted to read namely because it is about a foreigner living in Ecuador in the 60´s, in the same neighborhood as us (good old Guapulo). Unfortunately, reading it for the sake of seeing familar street names and bus routes in print turned out to be the most worthwhile thing about this book. Written by a Peace Corps guy, it made me doubly glad that I ended up turning them down: maybe things have changed in the past forty years, but this guy was a total stooge, partying all the time, looking down on the local people, and generally doing crap at his work. OK, maybe I´m being too judgemental, but he definitely is a poor writer.
Rating: Don´t Read This Book
The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein
I read this before and during the Mycotour. It took a long time but I got through it, whereas I´d never managed to completely tackle ¨No Logo¨ in full. This is an awesome book. I think I finally understand what neoliberalism is--maybe. Mind you, Klein has a thesis and a specific political stance from which she argues that thesis, which is fine by me--what´s the point in trying to be objective or impartial, when that´s obviously impossible? Better to be ballsy. She really hammers you over the head with her argument, though. I´d recommend skipping the chapters on Poland, Russia and China, and instead read the parts on Argentina, Chile and Bolivia (the most interesting of the book), the section on Iraq, and the last chapters on the tsunami and New Orleands. Oh, and the very fine introduction and conclusion, of course. All that should be more than enough to drive her point home.
After writing a puny paltry thesis meeself, I have great appreciation and admiration for Klein´s clear and readable style, the way she carefully organizes the points in her argument, her topic senteces (man! can this lady make transitions!). Very smart lady and very smart, relevant book, which left me with a lot to think about.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
Tales of a Shaman´s Apprentice by Mark J. Plotkin
Corey and I slowly but surely read this book together, reading it aloud to each other before going to sleep each night (a hobby we first started with Cormac McCarthy´s ¨The Road,¨ which is a great book to read aloud, by the way!). This is a good book to read when you´re working or even just visiting the jungle. The author is very much not a dry scientist at all, but instead fills his novel with plenty of funny, strange anecdotes (especially memorable is when a hallucinogenic plant dust is blown up his nose with great force by a blowpipe) and lots of interesting asides about the chemistry and use of so and so plant. I could have done with less copy-paste excerpts from eighteenth-century naturalist-botany texts, though.
Rating: Read This Book
Savages by Joe Klein
It took me yonkers to finish this book, namely because it kept disappearing. I finally got to finish it in Yasuni Park, by the Shirpuno River, which appropriately enough is Huaorani territory and one of the primary settings of the book. I even got to meet the guy on the cover, Moi, at the Shiripuno Bridge, which was very exciting. I was appropriately tongue-tied and starstruck, most likely to his great amusement.
This is a great book to read if you´re looking to understand in greater detail the effect of oil development in the eastern Oriente (or Amazon) of Ecuador. Klein´s carries on the great journalist tradition of Orwell, in which the observer´s present and his private opinions of the matters at hand are acknowledged, rather than ignored or disguised. Particularly memorable is Klein´s story of being lost in the jungle with the twelve-year-old Huaorani guides (one of whom who walks everywhere with a single white sock on his foot, slapping against the mud), with no food, no dry clothing and no idea where they are, and Klein is forced to deal with the sentiment that very few of us would every like to confront in our lifetmes: the feeling that one is going to die, in the jungle, lost, wet, and scared witless. Pretty gripping stuff.
Klein ends the book with a simple yet important question: if oil development is to be done in Ecuador (and the argument that it is inevitable is a strong one), and if it´s going to be done on indigenous land, shouldn´t there at least be an effort on the oil companies parts to at least know whose land they are using? In other words, to sum up the final message that I gleaned from the book: what a bloody mess.
Rating: Read This Book
Wizard of the Upper Amazon by F. Bruce Lamb
Wow, the synopsis of this book is crazy: a young Peruvian teenager, working as a rubber tree cutter in the Peru-Brazilian rainforest in the early 20th century, gets kidnapped by an uncontacted tribe of Indians and raised among the community, who has the intention of making his chief. Say what?? Why haven´t I heard of this crazy story earlier, or at least, why hasn´t there been an extensive, detailed ethnography published about it? (I certainly hope so--anthropology is not my field!) The story is so crazy, that I actually wished this book was longer, and went into more detail. Because of the book´s brevity (a hundred something pages), a lot of stuff I wanted to hear more about was skimped over: like the feeling of being in a totally alien community, not knowing the language, the customs, the culture or anything. The book is written with little self-analysis or introspection and kind of just moves from one interesting anecdote to another, which is fine, but I was definitely left craving more. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the story was retold by a source who met the guy, rather than by the guy himself? Anyway, the definite highlight of the book are the descriptions of the ayahuasca ceremonies. Very trippy (haha) and interesting stuff.
Rating: Read This Book
Prey by Michael Chricton
Man, if this book hadn´t been published almost a decade ago, I would call this Chricton´s comeback. I read this on a hammock in Yasuni, in between bouts of leading Swiss and French tourists around the jungle. It was definitely a very good braindead book for my dead stressed brain. I mean, the part where the killer nanorobots start infecting humans and become transmitted by kisses is a little far fetched, but what else can you ask from a book about killer nanorobots? I like typing that: Nanorobots. Yessss.
Rating: Maybe Read This Book, If You´re In the Right Place and Mood
Tropical Nature: Life and Death in the Rainforests of Central and South America by Adrian Forsyth and Ken Miyata
This is a good book to read if you know obviously nothing about rainforests and tropical ecosystems and botany (raises hand). Wait, (lowers hand), I know more now than I did before, ´cause I´ve read this book! The authors go out of their way to discount the stereotypical dry, boring scientist-writing, and instead use a style that is engaging, entertaining and highly readable. Each chapter is about a different aspect of the rainforest, such as fruit, orchids, ants (memorably called ¨Tiny Socialists¨ by the chapter title) and matapalo, or the killer strangler figs. I am now filled with knowledge about the rainforest that is probably basic to all scientists, but extremely exciting for me. For example, did you know that the sloth buries its poop at the bottom of a tree, which possibly indicates a symbiotic relationship between the two? DIDN´T THINK SO. The sloth eats the tree´s fruit and doesn´t move, since he´s a sloth, while the tree benefits from the fertility of the sloth´s poop. SRSLY.
Rating: Read This Book
Respiracion Artificial by Ricardo Piglia
Corey stumbled into this book for me after meeting an Argentenian at a house party in Guapulo and somehow ended up discussing Faulkner and Onetti (THEESISYES!!). I was in the jungle at the time, but the Argentinean ended up lending Corey this book, which he promptly delivered to me in Yasuni. On the first page someone wrote ¨! Este libro no se presta. No insiste.¨ (This book is not to be lent. I don´t insist). So I don´t know whether to be flattered or confused that this ended up in my grubby hands.
Anyway, this is a great, great book. I should have read this book for my thesis. I am seriously grinding the tip of its spine against my skull in self frustration. I used Piglia´s essays from Critica y ficcion, and I remember my advisor reading some excerpts from Respiracion artificial to me, but what with everything going on... I just never got around to actually reading it, I guess. It made for a great, exciting walk down memory lane, right off the bat with the T.S. Eliot epigraph: ¨We had the experience but missed the meaning, an approach to the meaning restores the experience.¨ OH SNAP SECOND CHAPTER! I got a little lost during the last 50 pages, but that was likely a result of the classic Julie-reading-fast-in-eagerness-to-get-to-the-end symptom.
How do I even begin talking about this book and how it´s now offcially one of my favorite books ever? Every page of this book was like a delicious treat, like an interesting, fascinating conversation. The plot is impossible to summarize. On one level (and there are many), it deals with a nephew corresponding with his uncle, who is obsessed with researching the life of a man called Enrique Ossorios, who was writing a novel. This book brings new meaning to the phrase ¨cake layers¨, the novel´s intricate layering go above and beyond the cake. More than anything, I loved this book because it is so obviously written by someone who himself loves books, intensely and absolutely. Indeed, the love of books is an important theme. The second page discusses the nephew´s failed novel, an attempt to imitate the voice of Faulkner, but as translated by Borges, which instead ends up as nothing more than a bad parody of Onetti. Oh, it makes me tingle just to remember it. This book makes me tingle, and when you have time and space in your life, please read it.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
Quarantine by Jim Crace
This is the first book I read in Ecuador, during that first week when we were bussing across the country with Jess´ parents. I´d read it before back in ninth grade, but I think (no, I know) most of it went over my head. The main scene I remembered from the first time I read it is the part when a dead donkey is thrown off the cliff but the other folks in quarantine, and Jesus in his little cave, twitching in a hallucinatory state, thinks that it´s a demon-angel falling from the heavens to further test his will.
I love historical retelling what-if fiction, and this one is particularly delicious since the particular history it reinterprets is Jesus´ 40 days in the desert. Such a set-up leads to numerous great scenes as Jesus descends further into hunger and nakedness and bare desert craziness (to paraphrase ¨Lawerence of Arabia¨: ¨only gods and Bedouins enjoy the desert, Lawrence, and you´re neither¨). I especially like the parts describing just how damn boring it gets, being in the desert for forty days and forty nights--in this novel, Jesus deals with his boredom by writing words from Roman coins with his fingers in the sand and soon he finds this more useful and rewarding than his prayers.
I like how in the end, Jesus´ miracle abilities are left ambiguous. Is he just the Galilean equivalent of ¨Into the Wild,¨ or genuine miracle man? Also, I thought it was really interesting that Jesus´ biggest fan throughout the book was the supposed villain, the merchant. In the end I couldn´t decide if this was a kind of dramatic irony--the reader knows the merchant is right in the end, perhaps granting him a little more sympathy--or if it was supposed to be a kind of commentary on the ultimate commercialization and marketeability of Jesus. It makes sense in a way, that Jesus´ biggest cheerleader would be a merchant: Jesus as brand product has certainly led to a lot of money for a lot of people, as the merchant in ¨Quarantine¨ astutely and accurately sensed.
Rating: Read This Book
I Came Not Alone by I don´t remember
I picked this up off of Jess and Brian´s bookshelf and read it in a single session during one of those rare time-off days we had, hanging around in Quito. I wanted to read namely because it is about a foreigner living in Ecuador in the 60´s, in the same neighborhood as us (good old Guapulo). Unfortunately, reading it for the sake of seeing familar street names and bus routes in print turned out to be the most worthwhile thing about this book. Written by a Peace Corps guy, it made me doubly glad that I ended up turning them down: maybe things have changed in the past forty years, but this guy was a total stooge, partying all the time, looking down on the local people, and generally doing crap at his work. OK, maybe I´m being too judgemental, but he definitely is a poor writer.
Rating: Don´t Read This Book
The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein
I read this before and during the Mycotour. It took a long time but I got through it, whereas I´d never managed to completely tackle ¨No Logo¨ in full. This is an awesome book. I think I finally understand what neoliberalism is--maybe. Mind you, Klein has a thesis and a specific political stance from which she argues that thesis, which is fine by me--what´s the point in trying to be objective or impartial, when that´s obviously impossible? Better to be ballsy. She really hammers you over the head with her argument, though. I´d recommend skipping the chapters on Poland, Russia and China, and instead read the parts on Argentina, Chile and Bolivia (the most interesting of the book), the section on Iraq, and the last chapters on the tsunami and New Orleands. Oh, and the very fine introduction and conclusion, of course. All that should be more than enough to drive her point home.
After writing a puny paltry thesis meeself, I have great appreciation and admiration for Klein´s clear and readable style, the way she carefully organizes the points in her argument, her topic senteces (man! can this lady make transitions!). Very smart lady and very smart, relevant book, which left me with a lot to think about.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
Tales of a Shaman´s Apprentice by Mark J. Plotkin
Corey and I slowly but surely read this book together, reading it aloud to each other before going to sleep each night (a hobby we first started with Cormac McCarthy´s ¨The Road,¨ which is a great book to read aloud, by the way!). This is a good book to read when you´re working or even just visiting the jungle. The author is very much not a dry scientist at all, but instead fills his novel with plenty of funny, strange anecdotes (especially memorable is when a hallucinogenic plant dust is blown up his nose with great force by a blowpipe) and lots of interesting asides about the chemistry and use of so and so plant. I could have done with less copy-paste excerpts from eighteenth-century naturalist-botany texts, though.
Rating: Read This Book
Savages by Joe Klein
It took me yonkers to finish this book, namely because it kept disappearing. I finally got to finish it in Yasuni Park, by the Shirpuno River, which appropriately enough is Huaorani territory and one of the primary settings of the book. I even got to meet the guy on the cover, Moi, at the Shiripuno Bridge, which was very exciting. I was appropriately tongue-tied and starstruck, most likely to his great amusement.
This is a great book to read if you´re looking to understand in greater detail the effect of oil development in the eastern Oriente (or Amazon) of Ecuador. Klein´s carries on the great journalist tradition of Orwell, in which the observer´s present and his private opinions of the matters at hand are acknowledged, rather than ignored or disguised. Particularly memorable is Klein´s story of being lost in the jungle with the twelve-year-old Huaorani guides (one of whom who walks everywhere with a single white sock on his foot, slapping against the mud), with no food, no dry clothing and no idea where they are, and Klein is forced to deal with the sentiment that very few of us would every like to confront in our lifetmes: the feeling that one is going to die, in the jungle, lost, wet, and scared witless. Pretty gripping stuff.
Klein ends the book with a simple yet important question: if oil development is to be done in Ecuador (and the argument that it is inevitable is a strong one), and if it´s going to be done on indigenous land, shouldn´t there at least be an effort on the oil companies parts to at least know whose land they are using? In other words, to sum up the final message that I gleaned from the book: what a bloody mess.
Rating: Read This Book
Wizard of the Upper Amazon by F. Bruce Lamb
Wow, the synopsis of this book is crazy: a young Peruvian teenager, working as a rubber tree cutter in the Peru-Brazilian rainforest in the early 20th century, gets kidnapped by an uncontacted tribe of Indians and raised among the community, who has the intention of making his chief. Say what?? Why haven´t I heard of this crazy story earlier, or at least, why hasn´t there been an extensive, detailed ethnography published about it? (I certainly hope so--anthropology is not my field!) The story is so crazy, that I actually wished this book was longer, and went into more detail. Because of the book´s brevity (a hundred something pages), a lot of stuff I wanted to hear more about was skimped over: like the feeling of being in a totally alien community, not knowing the language, the customs, the culture or anything. The book is written with little self-analysis or introspection and kind of just moves from one interesting anecdote to another, which is fine, but I was definitely left craving more. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the story was retold by a source who met the guy, rather than by the guy himself? Anyway, the definite highlight of the book are the descriptions of the ayahuasca ceremonies. Very trippy (haha) and interesting stuff.
Rating: Read This Book
Prey by Michael Chricton
Man, if this book hadn´t been published almost a decade ago, I would call this Chricton´s comeback. I read this on a hammock in Yasuni, in between bouts of leading Swiss and French tourists around the jungle. It was definitely a very good braindead book for my dead stressed brain. I mean, the part where the killer nanorobots start infecting humans and become transmitted by kisses is a little far fetched, but what else can you ask from a book about killer nanorobots? I like typing that: Nanorobots. Yessss.
Rating: Maybe Read This Book, If You´re In the Right Place and Mood
Tropical Nature: Life and Death in the Rainforests of Central and South America by Adrian Forsyth and Ken Miyata
This is a good book to read if you know obviously nothing about rainforests and tropical ecosystems and botany (raises hand). Wait, (lowers hand), I know more now than I did before, ´cause I´ve read this book! The authors go out of their way to discount the stereotypical dry, boring scientist-writing, and instead use a style that is engaging, entertaining and highly readable. Each chapter is about a different aspect of the rainforest, such as fruit, orchids, ants (memorably called ¨Tiny Socialists¨ by the chapter title) and matapalo, or the killer strangler figs. I am now filled with knowledge about the rainforest that is probably basic to all scientists, but extremely exciting for me. For example, did you know that the sloth buries its poop at the bottom of a tree, which possibly indicates a symbiotic relationship between the two? DIDN´T THINK SO. The sloth eats the tree´s fruit and doesn´t move, since he´s a sloth, while the tree benefits from the fertility of the sloth´s poop. SRSLY.
Rating: Read This Book
Respiracion Artificial by Ricardo Piglia
Corey stumbled into this book for me after meeting an Argentenian at a house party in Guapulo and somehow ended up discussing Faulkner and Onetti (THEESISYES!!). I was in the jungle at the time, but the Argentinean ended up lending Corey this book, which he promptly delivered to me in Yasuni. On the first page someone wrote ¨! Este libro no se presta. No insiste.¨ (This book is not to be lent. I don´t insist). So I don´t know whether to be flattered or confused that this ended up in my grubby hands.
Anyway, this is a great, great book. I should have read this book for my thesis. I am seriously grinding the tip of its spine against my skull in self frustration. I used Piglia´s essays from Critica y ficcion, and I remember my advisor reading some excerpts from Respiracion artificial to me, but what with everything going on... I just never got around to actually reading it, I guess. It made for a great, exciting walk down memory lane, right off the bat with the T.S. Eliot epigraph: ¨We had the experience but missed the meaning, an approach to the meaning restores the experience.¨ OH SNAP SECOND CHAPTER! I got a little lost during the last 50 pages, but that was likely a result of the classic Julie-reading-fast-in-eagerness-to-get-to-the-end symptom.
How do I even begin talking about this book and how it´s now offcially one of my favorite books ever? Every page of this book was like a delicious treat, like an interesting, fascinating conversation. The plot is impossible to summarize. On one level (and there are many), it deals with a nephew corresponding with his uncle, who is obsessed with researching the life of a man called Enrique Ossorios, who was writing a novel. This book brings new meaning to the phrase ¨cake layers¨, the novel´s intricate layering go above and beyond the cake. More than anything, I loved this book because it is so obviously written by someone who himself loves books, intensely and absolutely. Indeed, the love of books is an important theme. The second page discusses the nephew´s failed novel, an attempt to imitate the voice of Faulkner, but as translated by Borges, which instead ends up as nothing more than a bad parody of Onetti. Oh, it makes me tingle just to remember it. This book makes me tingle, and when you have time and space in your life, please read it.
Rating: Read This Book Before You Die
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
housefullness
Back from the Plunge. This completely fails to sum it up properly, but it was a really great experience. Needless to say, I learned a lot and made a lot of great new friends. I especially bonded with Sarah (the Plunge coordinator) and Clare (another one of the day leaders), both of whom were closest to me in age. I really enjoyed hanging out with all the kids too: they were all really positive and enthusiastic, especially in my group. We did all kinds of different placements during the week, like cooking and serving lunch in the Clark Center (men's shelter), weeding in the community gardens at the Oregon Food Bank (we did a lot of weeding this week, it feels like), and working at Sisters of the Road, the downtown cafe on 6th and Burnside that I had heard about but had never visited. I highly recommend it: there's a really great community atmosphere and the food is good and cheap ($1.25 for a meal and a drink). They have an interesting system where people can get barter points for meals by working at the cafe, so it's a much different atmosphere but the traditional paternalistic church-charity handout.
I think I did a pretty good job as a leader. Our group name was "The Sensational Six Power Plungers Exclamationpoint!" (in our cheer, I got to say to "Exclamationpoint!", in a style reminiscent of Kool-Aid Man). I got us lost basically every day (thank you trimet for telling me to "walk southwest" when I have no idea what that means). We also burned everything we cooked for dinner the one night it was our turn to prepare it: the pancakes were black, the hashbrowns were gray (apparently a result if the potatos are wet; my fault for washing them beforehand), and the sausages were raw in the middle. The only thing we didn't ruin was the soy yoghurt and granola for the vegan girl. We had a great time together, though. There was one afternoon where we all panhandled down by Powell's and Whole Foods, and this girl from my creative writing class gave us all the change in her pocket. When she saw me holding my little "LEARN TO LOVE BEFORE IT'S MADE ILLEGAL" sign slumped against the wall, she was like "JULIE" and I was like "hey, I graduated from Reed!" because it all seemed a little too complicated to explain right then and there. I'm sure I must have seemed like an excellent epitome of the post-grad lifestyle.
Apart from the small group placements there were some activities that we all did together (25 kids--I mean, students, in total), like a tour around Old Town to see where all the differents services, or our last placement, a visit to the Volunteers of America men's rehab shelter, where they send men who just got out of prison or rehab and need to learn how to be members of society after spending thirty-forty years being addicted to drugs or a life of crime and so forth. I was pretty nervous about going there because I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of guys there had been sent for prison for certain acts of violence; namely, rape. But it turned out to be the best experience we had all week: we participated in a neighborhood clean-up with the guys, picking up dozens and dozens of cigarette butts off the little side streets stemming off of MLK, and then had a giant BBQ together. It was really fun. I got asked for my number twice so that was a little uhhno. But it was really interesting, getting to spend a day talking to people whom society has basically told us to completely give up on. Everyone I met was really sweet and polite and I enjoyed talking about football and basketball with them. I even got offered a job by the VOA program director, who told me "if you're thinking about a career in social work, give me a call if or when you get back." That felt pretty good.
More than anything else, what I really enjoyed during the week was walking and taking the bus around all the Portland neighbors I am so unfamiliar with: all of NE and N Portland, basically. We were staying in St. Francis, the church with the big park on 12th and Oak. I remember hanging out there summer freshman year at the VOZ office but I completely failed to make the connection that it was the same place until I got there. Basically, this was the first time I felt like a Portlander rather than a Reedie, and it was really nice. Also, I know I told everyone beforehand that the point of the Plunge was to "live like a homeless person" but I really need to correct that and apologize for it right now. Basically that was a really offensive statement on my part: it wasn't a week about trying to "understand" or "know what it's like" to be homeless or poor or recovering from addiction or mentally ill in Portland, it was more about getting a clearer picture about certain issues that have to do with urban poverty and getting to hear some stories that could be pretty intense at times and meet some people, most who were nice and some who were mean but all who were worthwhile. There are a lot of really lonely people out there...
So it was a very interesting week with a lot of intense conversations but I feel bit deep contemplative-out right now. It was really nice to sleep in a bed last night, and it was great seeing Corey again. We have a lot of packing to do: basically, everything. And so much laundry. And I have to return all those overdue library books. Plus this computer. And e-mail people who aren't here and see people who are in order to say goodbye. I don't like goodbyes, I like see-you-laters.
I feel it's fitting to end with the closing words from Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London, which I used in the group discussion/reflection I had to lead on Thursday, with the theme of social justice:
"My story ends here. It is a fairly trivial story, and I can only hope that it has been interesting in the same way as a travel diary is interesting. I can at least say, Here is the world that awaits you if you are ever penniless. Some days I want to explore that world more thoroughly. I should like to know people like Mario and Paddy and Bill the moocher, not from casual encounters, but intimately; I should like to understand what really goes on in the souls of plongeurs and tramps and Embankment sleepers. At present I do not feel that I have seen more than the fringe of poverty.
Still I can point to one or two things I have definitely learned by being hard up. I shall never again think that all tramps are drunken scoundrels, nor expect a beggar to be grateful when I give him a penny, nor be surprised if men out of work lack energy, nor subscribe to the Salvation Army, nor pawn my clothes, nor refuse a handbill, nor enjoy a meal at a smart restaurant. That is a beginning."
I like beginnings!
I think I did a pretty good job as a leader. Our group name was "The Sensational Six Power Plungers Exclamationpoint!" (in our cheer, I got to say to "Exclamationpoint!", in a style reminiscent of Kool-Aid Man). I got us lost basically every day (thank you trimet for telling me to "walk southwest" when I have no idea what that means). We also burned everything we cooked for dinner the one night it was our turn to prepare it: the pancakes were black, the hashbrowns were gray (apparently a result if the potatos are wet; my fault for washing them beforehand), and the sausages were raw in the middle. The only thing we didn't ruin was the soy yoghurt and granola for the vegan girl. We had a great time together, though. There was one afternoon where we all panhandled down by Powell's and Whole Foods, and this girl from my creative writing class gave us all the change in her pocket. When she saw me holding my little "LEARN TO LOVE BEFORE IT'S MADE ILLEGAL" sign slumped against the wall, she was like "JULIE" and I was like "hey, I graduated from Reed!" because it all seemed a little too complicated to explain right then and there. I'm sure I must have seemed like an excellent epitome of the post-grad lifestyle.
Apart from the small group placements there were some activities that we all did together (25 kids--I mean, students, in total), like a tour around Old Town to see where all the differents services, or our last placement, a visit to the Volunteers of America men's rehab shelter, where they send men who just got out of prison or rehab and need to learn how to be members of society after spending thirty-forty years being addicted to drugs or a life of crime and so forth. I was pretty nervous about going there because I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of guys there had been sent for prison for certain acts of violence; namely, rape. But it turned out to be the best experience we had all week: we participated in a neighborhood clean-up with the guys, picking up dozens and dozens of cigarette butts off the little side streets stemming off of MLK, and then had a giant BBQ together. It was really fun. I got asked for my number twice so that was a little uhhno. But it was really interesting, getting to spend a day talking to people whom society has basically told us to completely give up on. Everyone I met was really sweet and polite and I enjoyed talking about football and basketball with them. I even got offered a job by the VOA program director, who told me "if you're thinking about a career in social work, give me a call if or when you get back." That felt pretty good.
More than anything else, what I really enjoyed during the week was walking and taking the bus around all the Portland neighbors I am so unfamiliar with: all of NE and N Portland, basically. We were staying in St. Francis, the church with the big park on 12th and Oak. I remember hanging out there summer freshman year at the VOZ office but I completely failed to make the connection that it was the same place until I got there. Basically, this was the first time I felt like a Portlander rather than a Reedie, and it was really nice. Also, I know I told everyone beforehand that the point of the Plunge was to "live like a homeless person" but I really need to correct that and apologize for it right now. Basically that was a really offensive statement on my part: it wasn't a week about trying to "understand" or "know what it's like" to be homeless or poor or recovering from addiction or mentally ill in Portland, it was more about getting a clearer picture about certain issues that have to do with urban poverty and getting to hear some stories that could be pretty intense at times and meet some people, most who were nice and some who were mean but all who were worthwhile. There are a lot of really lonely people out there...
So it was a very interesting week with a lot of intense conversations but I feel bit deep contemplative-out right now. It was really nice to sleep in a bed last night, and it was great seeing Corey again. We have a lot of packing to do: basically, everything. And so much laundry. And I have to return all those overdue library books. Plus this computer. And e-mail people who aren't here and see people who are in order to say goodbye. I don't like goodbyes, I like see-you-laters.
I feel it's fitting to end with the closing words from Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London, which I used in the group discussion/reflection I had to lead on Thursday, with the theme of social justice:
"My story ends here. It is a fairly trivial story, and I can only hope that it has been interesting in the same way as a travel diary is interesting. I can at least say, Here is the world that awaits you if you are ever penniless. Some days I want to explore that world more thoroughly. I should like to know people like Mario and Paddy and Bill the moocher, not from casual encounters, but intimately; I should like to understand what really goes on in the souls of plongeurs and tramps and Embankment sleepers. At present I do not feel that I have seen more than the fringe of poverty.
Still I can point to one or two things I have definitely learned by being hard up. I shall never again think that all tramps are drunken scoundrels, nor expect a beggar to be grateful when I give him a penny, nor be surprised if men out of work lack energy, nor subscribe to the Salvation Army, nor pawn my clothes, nor refuse a handbill, nor enjoy a meal at a smart restaurant. That is a beginning."
I like beginnings!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
interesting passage from "war and peace"
“What have you attained with the guidance of the intellect alone? What are you? You are young, you are wealthy, you are cultured, sir. What have you made of all the blessings vouchsafed you? Are you satisfied with yourself and your life?’
‘No, I hate my life,’ said Pierre, frowning.
‘You hate it, then change it, purify yourself, and as you are purified, you will come to know wisdom. Look at your life sir. How have you been spending it? In rioutous orgies and debauchery, taking everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have received wealth. How have you used it? What have you done for your neighbors? Have you given a thought to the tens of thousands of your slaves…No. You have profited by their toil to lead a dissipated life. that’s what you have done. Have you chosen to taken part in the service where you might be of use to your neighbor? No. You have spent your life in idleness...There is no wisdom in all that, sir.’”
[courtesey of elyssa!]
‘No, I hate my life,’ said Pierre, frowning.
‘You hate it, then change it, purify yourself, and as you are purified, you will come to know wisdom. Look at your life sir. How have you been spending it? In rioutous orgies and debauchery, taking everything from society and giving nothing in return. You have received wealth. How have you used it? What have you done for your neighbors? Have you given a thought to the tens of thousands of your slaves…No. You have profited by their toil to lead a dissipated life. that’s what you have done. Have you chosen to taken part in the service where you might be of use to your neighbor? No. You have spent your life in idleness...There is no wisdom in all that, sir.’”
[courtesey of elyssa!]
Thursday, June 5, 2008
I had a really good night tonight!
I think the whole feeling-kind-of-down after graduation thing has a lot to do with just learning how to manage a lot of free time, something I've never been very good at. It's important to remember that this is my Vacation! and my Time Off! and lord knows when I'll have this kind of free time just to read and loaf around again. Here are some things that have made me very happy in the past week since I've returned from Connecticut:
- First Thursday with Tanya (graduate student from Corey's lab) and her husband, this amazing incredibly funny guy from Turkey who works as a professional photographer. Dinner with them at the Virginia Cafe and walking around visiting the different art galleries was really fun. It was really nice to be out and social with so-called "grown-up" people as opposed to just other college students, i.e. Reedies.
- checking out books about liberation theology from the county library and writing down graduate schools. Today, Comparative Literature, tomorrow, Creative Writing! (hey, I've only been out of school for three weeks, a girl can dream...)
- finished and submitted application for Americorps position with SE Works for the hoo-hah of it. I was upset about all the typos in my outgoing e-mail but got a very friendly-souding follow-up from them so I don't think that's a problem.
- Reading Down and Out in Paris and London and a collection of interviews with Portland's homeless in preparation for the Plunge. Very interesting. Oh, that Orwell.
- Lauren's birthday party on Friday! She's basically my primary friend left in the Portland area now, besides Eira... Also going to the coast this Saturday this Corey: one of the professors from the biology department at PSU has a house there and is going to host a huge clam bake. We're bringing our tent and sleeping bags and plan to camp out on the sand. I also want to watch at least one NBA playoff game with my brother, who is normally so busy with classes, hopefully Sunday...
- Long walk with Corey on Tuesday down Springwater trail, looking for mushrooms, finding mainly LBMs (little brown mushrooms) on people's lawns. The crazy-looking petal-shaped mushroom I found a couple of days ago which I got really excited about because Corey couldn't identify it turned out of to be a lichen. Oh, well. We wandered for ages and ended up on Milwaukee and at sushi at that place on Bybee that always has a really long line. BEST SUSHI I've ever had in my life. I'll definitely have to take my parents there, if/when/who knows they move here.
Corey just drank just gin by accident instead of water. "It kind of tasted like a pop tart," he says. I really want to go to bed...
Trying to keep in mind main message of book "Man's Search For Meaning," or at least the main message I remember from the concentration camp bits (I didn't really read the logotherapy bits, wasn't interested): we can't choose what happens to us, but we can always choose what attitude we want to adopt in face of what happens to us...
- First Thursday with Tanya (graduate student from Corey's lab) and her husband, this amazing incredibly funny guy from Turkey who works as a professional photographer. Dinner with them at the Virginia Cafe and walking around visiting the different art galleries was really fun. It was really nice to be out and social with so-called "grown-up" people as opposed to just other college students, i.e. Reedies.
- checking out books about liberation theology from the county library and writing down graduate schools. Today, Comparative Literature, tomorrow, Creative Writing! (hey, I've only been out of school for three weeks, a girl can dream...)
- finished and submitted application for Americorps position with SE Works for the hoo-hah of it. I was upset about all the typos in my outgoing e-mail but got a very friendly-souding follow-up from them so I don't think that's a problem.
- Reading Down and Out in Paris and London and a collection of interviews with Portland's homeless in preparation for the Plunge. Very interesting. Oh, that Orwell.
- Lauren's birthday party on Friday! She's basically my primary friend left in the Portland area now, besides Eira... Also going to the coast this Saturday this Corey: one of the professors from the biology department at PSU has a house there and is going to host a huge clam bake. We're bringing our tent and sleeping bags and plan to camp out on the sand. I also want to watch at least one NBA playoff game with my brother, who is normally so busy with classes, hopefully Sunday...
- Long walk with Corey on Tuesday down Springwater trail, looking for mushrooms, finding mainly LBMs (little brown mushrooms) on people's lawns. The crazy-looking petal-shaped mushroom I found a couple of days ago which I got really excited about because Corey couldn't identify it turned out of to be a lichen. Oh, well. We wandered for ages and ended up on Milwaukee and at sushi at that place on Bybee that always has a really long line. BEST SUSHI I've ever had in my life. I'll definitely have to take my parents there, if/when/who knows they move here.
Corey just drank just gin by accident instead of water. "It kind of tasted like a pop tart," he says. I really want to go to bed...
Trying to keep in mind main message of book "Man's Search For Meaning," or at least the main message I remember from the concentration camp bits (I didn't really read the logotherapy bits, wasn't interested): we can't choose what happens to us, but we can always choose what attitude we want to adopt in face of what happens to us...
Sunday, June 1, 2008
gradumudukated
"It is a feeling of relief, almost of pleasure, at knowing yourself at last genuinely down and out. You have talked so often of going to the dogs--and well, here are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off a lot of the anxiety."
-- George Orwell
I'm back in Portland. Saw Obama speak in Connecticut during my sister's commencement. I'm well and gradumudacated, as they say. My closest girlfriends have left and scattered, Emily and Cara in Southern California and Laura in Tanzania.
I feel incredibly, woefully unprepared, in terms of doing "grown-up things" such as figuring out health insurance (my mother's biggest fear). There are some days where I feel so smart and mature--like the way I dealt with my dad's relatives in Connecticut ("you were very chatty," he complimented me afterwards), or the way I chatted and made friends with the girl sitting next to me on the flight back to PDX from Dallas (the first time I got someone's number who I met on a plane!). Since getting back to Portland, though, I've felt slow and funky, as though I've had to move my limbs through thick molasses. I think a lot of that has to do with being sick: I was trapped in the Hartford airport for 12 straight hours, from 6am to 6pm, due to weather problems in Dallas--airplanes and airports are Petri dishes for diseases. I also think a lot of it is just plain sadness that Emily and Laura, my closest friends, have left, and there's a lot of uncertainty surrounding when exactly we're going to see each other again--there's no convenient "next semester!" to look forward to. As Laura said when we were saying goodbye in her car, "I think my strategy is basically just denial." Sounds good to me.
So what have I been up to since I came back? I organized the books in my room alphabetically. Corey and I embarked on an epic, furious cleaning frenzy, which involved shaking out the carpets, sweeping and five loads of laundry. We saw the Starlight Parade last night in downtown Portland and went to the amusement park and watched the fireworks the night before last. We also saw "Indiana Jones" in the movie theatre, the first film in the series I've officially watched from beginning to end. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I was also sickened by the price of the ticket--$9, even after I lied about still being a student! We hung around afterwards with the intention to sneak into another, but everything else playing there looked like such crap that we lost the will and energy to lead a life of crime and instead listlessly slunk away.
In terms of work stuff, from June 13th-20th I'm working as a day leader for the Portland Plunge, which is run by an organization called JOIN. The Plunge is an eight-day long immersion into homelessness and urban poverty, started in the 80's by a group of youth ministers in the Archdiocese of Portland. It's basically what I was doing last summer in Tijuana, except in PDX, and the focus is on urban homelessness as opposed to immigration. The Los Embajadores experience is based on the Plunge. Anyway, I have to get on submitting questions and materials for journal entries and for organizing prayers/reflections. I wish I'd been a little more well-organized and prompt about getting that done, but I'm going to take a deep breath, give myself a break for being sick, and just let it go rather than beat myself up about it!
I want to pull out of this funk and finish reading "Man's Search for Meaning" and "Down and Out in Paris and London"! Being 95% recuperated from this cold will help a lot with mental sharpness and emotional enthusiasm, I think, because it means I can start exercising again. I went for a long night bike ride after coming back from Eira's tonight. I went to see the house I used to live in junior year, which made me feel unexpectedly weird and more Bruce Springsteenyist than I expected. I am full of self-analysis and justification for the syrupy state of my brain, I guess.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
monkey
I turned in my thesis around noon-thirty last Friday. Much Renn Fayre ridiculousness ensued.
At Thesis Parade, at which I was congratulated via being showered by champagne. I was also frequently asked by people with brows furrowed by concern how I was doing. I hadn't slept in two days, hence the pale, waifish complexion.
Standing in line at The Feast on Saturday afternoon.
Eating delicious meat, smoked by men who also took a picture of Corey's Epic Mushroom shirt, fellow mushroom hunters and lovers themselves.
Now it's a matter of finishing three papers, editing the typos and getting the thesis printed and bound. Then it'll be the end of thesis-tagged posts. Some days I feel like my thesis turned out particularly well, other days I feel like there are definitely some parts I wish I had more time to work on and flesh out. I think this is best exemplified by the nightmare I had two days before my orals, in which the corpse from "A Rose For Emily" came back to life and was chasing me. Oh, well. What work is ever truly finished, anyway? I don't know what I'm going to have anxiety-related dreams about once I graduate (as in "oh no my paper was acutally due today!" horror). Everyone has assured me that I will think of something.
Here is a list of books I want to read:
The Botany of Desire (Michael Pollan) (in the middle of this right now. Very interesting. One of the earlier books by the author of The Omnivore's Dilemma)
The Mapmaker's Wife (Robert Whitaker) (recommended to me by my mom. A based-on-history novel about Ecuador. Ecaudor! Must read so many books between now and later about Ecuador!)
Mycelium Running (Paul Stamets) (highly recommended by Corey. The subtitle basically says it all: How Mushrooms Can Help Save the World. Mushrooms! Must read so many books between now and later about mushrooms!)
I might as well start with those and move on from there. Now if only I could summon up the willpower and energy to get those papers finished and officially bring my Reed career to a close......
At Thesis Parade, at which I was congratulated via being showered by champagne. I was also frequently asked by people with brows furrowed by concern how I was doing. I hadn't slept in two days, hence the pale, waifish complexion.
Standing in line at The Feast on Saturday afternoon.
Eating delicious meat, smoked by men who also took a picture of Corey's Epic Mushroom shirt, fellow mushroom hunters and lovers themselves.
Now it's a matter of finishing three papers, editing the typos and getting the thesis printed and bound. Then it'll be the end of thesis-tagged posts. Some days I feel like my thesis turned out particularly well, other days I feel like there are definitely some parts I wish I had more time to work on and flesh out. I think this is best exemplified by the nightmare I had two days before my orals, in which the corpse from "A Rose For Emily" came back to life and was chasing me. Oh, well. What work is ever truly finished, anyway? I don't know what I'm going to have anxiety-related dreams about once I graduate (as in "oh no my paper was acutally due today!" horror). Everyone has assured me that I will think of something.
Here is a list of books I want to read:
The Botany of Desire (Michael Pollan) (in the middle of this right now. Very interesting. One of the earlier books by the author of The Omnivore's Dilemma)
The Mapmaker's Wife (Robert Whitaker) (recommended to me by my mom. A based-on-history novel about Ecuador. Ecaudor! Must read so many books between now and later about Ecuador!)
Mycelium Running (Paul Stamets) (highly recommended by Corey. The subtitle basically says it all: How Mushrooms Can Help Save the World. Mushrooms! Must read so many books between now and later about mushrooms!)
I might as well start with those and move on from there. Now if only I could summon up the willpower and energy to get those papers finished and officially bring my Reed career to a close......
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