flowers

undecided?!

Finally found this Sedaris quote on Dooce that Andrew told me about:

I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?

To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.

impostor

By NO measurement is Sarah Palin and her family working class.

And how the fuck does one even spend 150,000$ on clothes?!

this one goes out to the one I love...

5 years (and also on a Sunday!) since I met up with you at The Thirsty Mind.

red in tooth and claw

Today started off frantic.

I woke up at 8:30, dragged myself out of bed, checked my email -- realized I had a meeting on campus at 9 am. Which meant prioritizing what I REALLY NEEDED TO DO: shower minus the hair, no breakfast, bike like hell.

After, I was sitting in the terrace room brooding over my notes before meeting with Franco. And this freaking BIRD FIGHT breaks out on the terrace. At first I thought it was a pigeon tussling with another pigeon. Oh no, my friends, nothing so innocent. So I opened the door to scare off the bird of prey, but it was clear the pigeon was no longer flight worthy -- flopping, limping into a corner, a wound in his back. I consulted Randy, who thought the culprit might be a kestrel (or a peregrine falcon? harrier? hard to say, even though we had a good view of him hanging out, waiting to swoop back in), and that the most humane thing to do at this point would be to let the bird of prey take its course. So I decided to work in the briggs room.

Back inside the dept: it looks like my dissertation is back on track for upstart figures. But in a more specific way. Franco says, a balance between my interests and his need for it to be a feasible project. Have at least a first Dickens chapter, and will need to write my way into successive arguments. GOOD NEWS: I get to read Felix Holt and Howard's End!

Tomorrow I need to get back to dissertation abstract work...

the need for narrative

So I bought this chocolate at Target, and the insert, with (not so) helpful pictures and descriptions, is for the wrong collection. So all I have to go on, is that the box contains: "sparkling pomegranate currant, golden Jamaican-spiced caramel, sunny tangerine coconut, sweetly floral almond jasmine, sensuous hazelnut orange, subtly spiced ginger pear." WHICH IS AMAZING. But the problem is, I don't know which is which. And turns out, it's REALLY F-ING HARD TO IDENTIFY THESE THINGS WHEN ENCASED IN CHOCOLATE. What would be a mind blowing experience, in which I realized, IT TASTES EXACTLY LIKE SUBTLY SPICED GINGER PEAR, is now COMPLETELY BEFUDDLING.

I just want to know what the narrative is, so I know how to taste it.

desultory thinker

The weekend means little these days. Except for the welcome party on Friday -- Long, who's dj-ed in the past, turned it into a dance party. Any English function that turns into dancing to Billie Jean is a success in my opinion.

My work this weekend has been: brainstorming around five or six different ideas toward a dissertation. It was back to the drawing board after my meeting with Franco last week, and so I've returned to some ideas I had initially passed over. What I'm learning in all this: I'm a slow, distracted, desultory thinker. I can riff off a close reading for any number of pages, but sitting down to think about terms/ideas in the abstract, creating a framework, is a different problem. I tend to have spurts of productivity, followed by complete boredom with whatever I'm looking at, followed by a random spark of an idea, which, after writing down, I decide is good enough to be the END POINT OF WORK FOR THE DAY, TIME TO CHECK POLITICAL BLOGS (It's never good enough to quit for the day.)

And then to take a break, I read Nancy Armstrong. Whose book, How Novels Think, is SO MUCH BROADER THAN MY UPSTART PROJECT WOULD HAVE BEEN. I guess this is what you get to do, after you've done the build up work. For now, I'm to narrow, narrow, narrow.

And to take a break from that, I plug along in my data entry "research" position.

And to take a break from this routine, I took a jaunt to Target (CHOCOLATE), and this morning, visited the farmers' market. Where I bought carrots, parsnips, potatoes, chard, and an onion, with which to make this winter soup recipe I found inspiring on The Wednesday Chef. And I bought a chocolate croissant: deliciousness. Made me miss Switzerland.

I like pretending that this isn't about allergies

nataliedee.com

kings of leon -- sex on fire

It was a day in which I gave up on my illusions of progress.

But at least this song is incredible.

sometimes, you just know dickens was having an inspired day

"The staircase was sacred to rabbits." -- Martin Chuzzlewit

positive reinforcement

After agonizing over an email (in this case, emailing Alex with paragraphs on *why* this topic), I reward myself with food.

evidence that we are living in the end times

too familiar

I'm finding it uncanny to read A Christmas Carol and HEAR Scrooge McDuck delivering the dialogue.

a day that kept looking up

I think I had a good day.

I got to campus before 11 am -- reviewed and compiled some notes in Google docs, which is a brilliant application; had lunch while catching up with Lupe and Whitney; went to yoga; had a meeting with profs, administrative assistants, and a statistics person to talk about a research project I'm going to do data crunching for (yay, a project with FINITE GOALS!); prepped for my meeting with Alex, which was supposed to be my yogurt snack time, but SOMEONE STOLE MY ORGANIC LEMON YOGURT; met with Alex, who gave me more finite projects (why upward mobility figures... more books that might help with thinking...); went to the 18th century group, where someone was presenting his quantitative research on the concept of human rights; ended up going to dinner, where I was able to talk to Denise. Really, rather a good day.

This might be a trend -- I also had a good weekend. Friday I met some of the first years over the debate and mediterranean wraps. Saturday I went to Jill's in the city, where we went buffalo exchanging. We had a lovely dinner after picking up essentials at the local organic grocery -- like the old days, we made vegetarian sushi. Lupe dropped by for dessert. Then Jill and I caught a bus to Hayes Valley, to meet up with Garth at this restaurant aptly named absinthe. Where we were very tempted by dessert, and had some seriously hedonist moments over a fig tart with fennel ice cream, and roasted peach sorbet.

Sunday Jill and I went to brunch at Herbivore, checked out the farmers' market, and headed back to suburbia.

And... I think I'm finally feeling settled. I'm going to do a formalist project on mobility.

british history, a - h

So I'm skimming through a 1000 page Oxford Companion to British History in the Lane Reading Room (because it's non-circulating), looking for 19th century entries to read, as Jessica W. recommended brushing up on the historical context of my period at this point in the process.

Some highlights:

Under "dueling":
"A ludicrous duel, averted in 1782 by the intervention of the Speaker, was between Lord North, notoriously short-sighted, and Colonel Barre, who had only one eye."

Under "Henry Mayers Hyndman":
"H. was converted to Marxism by reading Das Kapital on board an Atlantic steamer on a business trip...He also apparently alienated working people by his extremism, and his habit of quoting from Virgil in Latin... He is probably the only western Marxist leader ever to have played county cricket for Sussex, but that was before he saw the light."

andrew visits cambridge

Andrew: exactly
are you familiar with "punting" on the cam river
ahem, "the river cam"
...
i did notice, while walking on a small path next to a big open field,
what looked like wild raspberries and blackberries

me: cool =)
I'm surprised at raspberries, but blackberries it's definitely still
the season in a not too-hot climate

Andrew: ah, maybe they were just unripe ones
b/c they were growing on the same plant

me: oh honey
those are definitely blackberries then =)

Andrew: :-D
hey they could be some sorta weird old school hybrid

it would be so much easier to be a cat

because this is probably the biggest problem that I would ever confront.

from harvard street

The trip back to CA was smooth. I LOVE ALASKA AIRLINES. Why can't other airlines be like them? Not only do they have a higher concentration of funny/interesting flight attendants, but they STILL GIVE YOU SNACKS. GOOD SNACKS, made with unbleached flour and no trans fats and EVOO. And FREE BEER AND WINE. With freaking *refills.* Do they even do that in Europe anymore? And we made an almost imperceptible landing precisely one minute before scheduled arrival. Compare that to: American Airlines from Madison to PDX, which charged me $15 for my one checked bag. And changed the departure gate in O'Hare, which, I can tell you, means a whole lot of walking with heavy bags. United, from CA to Wisconsin, which wouldn't give me tea, TEA, as my beverage. Do they know how cheap tea is?! So it was amazing to drink complimentary red wine in an airplane while the entire U.S. economy is collapsing.

I'm settling in -- my first day was spent walking to Country Sun and Mollie Stone's for supplies, retrieving book & towel from my locker, unpacking, and finishing my "essentials" shopping at Whole Foods. It's interesting trying to construct a pantry with the limitations that 1) you must be able to carry everything, for up to a thirty minute walk, 2) you can eat it all before you move, and 3) you can prep it in a kitchen you're not yet familiar with. Which for me, boiled down to: a pound of spinach for salads, two salad dressings, tomatoes, one beet, assorted olives, apples, granola bars, oatmeal, brie, bread, plain yogurt, peanut butter, FIGS (because it's CA), and ice cream bars. Although that whole comfort food thing really doesn't work out for me. The last thing I feel like doing when I'm sadly disoriented and somewhat lonely (hey, even in the studios, at least everyone was being alone TOGETHER) is eating. Which is unfortunate, because then there's one fewer thing to distract me. Also unfortunate, is the internet connection here. And the fact that cable doesn't include Comedy central.

But, I did review a quarter of my orals notes, and I think I'm now going to break for Gaskell's biography of Charlotte Bronte, because all the sisterly bonding and resignation to work kind of fits my mood right now.

lapine adventure

Last Saturday we (ie, Mum, Tim, & I) embarked on the great LaPine adventure. We drove south-easterly, lunched at Smith Rock, consulted with Mer, who decided to leave a day early, set up camp, fed the golden mantled ground squirrels (think: larger, more aggressive, & pudgier version of the chipmunk), and waited for Mer.

Here's one golden mantled jumping out of the frame after grabbing a piece of cinnamon bread, which claims, on the side of the bag, to be "a good source of deliciousness" -- not calcium, iron, or whole grains, but DELICIOUSNESS:



Mer arrived, but her grand plan of showing up just in time for dinner was thwarted. Unfortunately, our cooler was too effective, so we had to defrost elk hamburger (ie, cut it up into chunks on a plate and wait) before we could make dinner -- ate around the campfire, drank beer, made s'mores... the usual. Mer and I slept in the tent. I had a down comforter and wool blanket, and both of us had not so comfy sleeping mats (in other words: an ancient backpacking mat, and, poor Mer, a woven rug). Don't ask me why I didn't have the COLD WEATHER LIGHT WEIGHT REI SLEEPING BAG I BOUGHT LAST SUMMER. ASK THE UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE.

Anyways, long story short, it was like 34 degrees that night. At one point I woke up and would have gone to the bathroom, BUT IT WAS 34 DEGREES. Later, I woke up freezing. And in the morning, it took a great deal of will power to emerge from the blankets. After realizing that Mer had been cold too, we kind of felt stupid for not combining our powers and making one big bundle out of our coats and blankets.

But all was well, because the next two nights would be spent in a spiffy cabin.

Mer and I participated in the group lunch, but left Mum & Tim to their own devices, touring the lava caves, as Mer wanted a new swimsuit. And apparently, when you live in Lakeview, that's difficult to make happen. So we drove up to Bend's Target, and got not only a teeny tiny green polka dot bikini, but matching dresses and leggings (although: in different colors). We got back in time to go floating in the Deschutes River.

Mer catches a crayfish. She's been doing this sort of thing for as long as I've known her:



Floating on:



Hung out at the cabin. And took over dinner preparations: makin' chili. Friday I had done ridiculous food prep: I picked a gallon of blackberries, and baked cornbread, biscuits, and chocolate chip cookies. So I took the aluminum foil off the cornbread for dinner, and it became clear that SOMEHOW, the aluminum foil had been LEACHING INTO THE BREAD. It was literally speckled. Well, knowing that aluminum has been linked to Alzheimer's, I had to sacrifice the top half of it. SAFEWAY BRAND ALUMINUM FOIL: makes pretty designs on your baked goods.

Cookin' dinner:



One more technical difficulty, in the form of Netflix sending us a scratched up copy of Blazing Saddles, which I now have STILL NOT SEEN. Mer's dvd collection saved us: I was tempted by the my little pony movie, but we watched About a Boy instead (which we first saw while house sitting together years ago, and loved the music).

The next day we headed up to Paulina Lake -- Mer and I did part of the around the lake hike, which had some beautiful views... the water looked pristine and blue-green. But once we hit the exposed section of the lake, we headed back to the wooded area to wade and hang out. Then we scouted out the lodge... floated in East Lake... drove up the precarious road to the top of Paulina Peak (my favorite part was the lack of guard rails along the deeply washboarded gravel road).

From the peak:



After, we met up with Mom and Tim for dinner at Gordy's restaurant, which is kind of a glorified truck stop. But in LaPine, it was that, Dairy Queen, or the pizza place.

Sad to leave! Especially as I just had to pack everything to head to CA tonight... which kind of scares me, because I need to write a dissertation proposal this quarter, and I'll have to make a final decision about what direction to take. Also: Mt Hood is on fire. The smoke is worse today, much more of it, and spreading. Last night I could see the red of the fire and the reflection on the smoke.

On the river:

in the hood

Before I forget what I did last week:

Monday: Hung out at Laurance Lake.

Tuesday: lunch with Grammy at Twin Peaks. Followed by an afternoon visiting Dad -- walked the Indian Creek Trail, explored our favorite used book store, etc.

Weds: Brunch with Dad at Acre, followed by hiking with Mum. We finally made it up to Cloud Cap, where we hiked from Tilly Jane, STRAIGHT UP HILL for what they claimed was one mile, but what I believe was more like two miles, until we intercepted the Timberline around the mountain trail (where we saw marmots), and then back down to the Crag Rat lodge, where we met up with the people restoring it (one of whom was Joel, who I was surprised to see, since we went to school together from 1st-12th grade).





Thurs & Fri.: prep. to leave for LaPine, because it always takes as much time to prepare to go camping, as one is actually out camping.