I drink your wine

Back already but it feels like I've been gone longer.

Yesterday morning we headed to Microsoft (early!) and then waited around as they had padded the leave time by fifteen minutes TWICE. Apparently very little faith in interns showing up on time for a free trip to Napa.

I was surprised that our first stop was Andretti -- I've only been to three wineries in Napa before, and we're overlapping one? But all was happy because lunch included salad with dried cherries and wild Alaskan salmon and little raspberry cheesecake things.




Then we bused over to Artesa, which was very modern-artsy-fountains-and-we-were-built-in-the- 80s -using- lots-of-glass-INTO A HILL,and had AMAZING VIEWS (which would have been better minus the smoke). I guess when your family has been making wine since the 16th century and you like invented Cava, you can do that. Anyways, more wine, more barrels. Lots of cheese and crackers and fruit. Oh except here they play Gregorian chants for the barrels of wine. I found this ludicrous at first, but then when our guide told us that it's based on the old world philosophy that if you "bring beauty to the wine, the wine will bring beauty to you," I was kind of struck. Or it might have been the "bubbly" (they were very clear: they don't call it champagne because they have respect for a treaty the US didn't sign -- kind of like the Kyoto situation, but for champagne) kicking in.

Here's the beauty happening:



Lots of photos like this from Andrew -- rows and rows of barrels, shots down the rows of grape vines, multiplied wine glasses... I think he's interested in the mathematical sublime.






Then another bus ride, followed by strategically maneuvering to check into the hotel first so that I could take a spin in the pool before dinner. Because I only like to swim in deserted hotel pools, as no one's there to witness my version of the dog paddle and the frog.

Followed by dinner, hanging out at the foofy hotel's terrace with gas fire pits.

This morning another bus ride up to Sterling Vineyards, which is accessible via a sky tram thingy, and was my favorite for views (reminded me of Hood River Valley, but without Mt. Hood). The best part of this tour was trying the "cab sauv" from three different years... I liked the oldest one, which apparently means I like "earthy" more than "fruity." ALSO we asked about sulfites and the tour guide said that not adding sulfites makes for not so great wine that doesn't age well. Apparently sulfites in wine started with Pasteur (who, we learned at trivia night at the Rose and Crown bar, said wine was the most delicious and "hygienic" of beverages). So now THAT worry is cleared up.


At this point it was around noon, the group was chatty and tipsy, and we were deposited in the gift shop. In that situation, merlot chocolate sauce sounded like the perfect souvenir. Then back down the tram, and into the bus, with our boxed lunches (surprisingly good: but then anything with goat cheese, I'm sold). And... back to home.

lately, xkcd...

YES THE ONLY WAY

Cindy McCain: "In Arizona The Only Way To Get Around The State Is By Small Private Plane."

new favorite

marriedtothesea.com

mid week weekend

Taking off tomorrow for one night in Santa Rosa, in pursuit of the ability to differentiate between types of wine, and because it's compliments of Microsoft.

And here is a picture of a crepe that I meant to post long ago, documenting my new-found love for Nutella:

catching up

The noteworthy events of the ten (eek) past days:

- Andrew's father visited. Which meant lots of eating out, watching movies, and socializing. We spent fourth of July with friends of Andrew's dad -- including playing some version of kick ball (literally: kick the ball back and forth) and monopoly with a five and eight year old. Although at least we didn't sit at the kids' table for dinner.

- Interesting development of patchy insomnia. Including one night, and now, most mornings when the sky is just turning gray, and ending as the sun comes up.

- Still trying to go jogging, as it seems to help with the sleeping and staying sane.

- FINALLY DONE WITH BARNABY RUDGE. Not my favorite Dickens, but I'm willing to ignore that if I can find a reason to write about it. Now onto reviewing/reading before Dickens Universe.

- Tested the seating capacity of the studio on Friday, with a vegetarian sushi night.

- Went into the city on Saturday for another Shepherd play, Buried Child.

- Attended Hannah and Whitney's dinner party, which was amazing. I need a dining table. I'm so done with breakfast bars.

Wall-E

It was kind of awesome. Ecological disaster, obsolete 80s toys, "stay the course" allusions, mac start up noises, and plants. [My one concern: what happened to everyone who couldn't afford the cruise space-ship?]

Pandagon reviews on politics/gender/fat politics in the film (many spoilers): by Auguste and by Amanda.

boot camp #3: the happy delivery

Around noon, boot camp was all sunshine and rainbows for about half an hour. Because Safeway brought us not only goldfish crackers, pretzels, and ritz snack mix, BUT ALSO CHEEZ ITS.

boot camp #2: the crisis

More lessons from boot camp. The following are MAJOR STUMBLING BLOCK CRISIS SITUATIONS to the dissertating grad student:

- Someone is SITTING AT MY FAVORITE WORK STATION.

- There is no milk for the coffee today, only liquid Coffee-mate.

- WE NEED SALTY SNACKS. All these snacks are SWEET.


Things I have to look forward to when I have a dissertation of my own. If it's possible to get any crazier.

music I have liked -- 80s theme

on fire

The entire state of California seems to be on fire. And I'm at boot camp. Where I have learned that I am not good at working from 9 to 5. I AM good at reading blogs and day dreaming. Right now I'm supposed to be reading about character. CLEARLY NOT HAPPENING.

All those poor cremated trees are clogging up the air. I hope I don't kill my lungs, but I really wanted to go jogging tonight.

boot camp

Day 2 of dissertation boot camp. I think we set a record in pots of coffee consumed by twenty people in four hours. Strangely, boot camp has coincided with Andrew & I starting a jogging regiment. Today was the day off (walked instead of jogged), as we're sore and I needed to take a trip to the library. I forgot how much I enjoy it, after I switch over into aerobic and find the pace.

In other news: food I have made.

For Bridget and Nickie's wedding -- which was beautiful! -- the standby spinach/mint/balsamic vinegar/lime/peach/blueberry salad, and cantaloupe with mint:





For dessert over the weekend, because as we were heading back from Half Moon Bay (where I got some sunburns, including on my NECK, which looked ridiculous, but luckily Gap is trying to create consumer demand for counter-intuitive summer accessories, and I was able to find a light (in weight, not color) green scarf that has actually been useful since the Writing Center is COLD with the requisite office space air conditioning) we stopped at an organic farm stand that was selling BOXES of strawberries for five dollars:




Biscuits w/ rhubarb and strawberry compote, strawberries and figs, and over-priced "natural" whipped cream.

nice dream

Finally done with The Novel and the Police. Now I can return to Barnaby Rudge, which, when James saw that I was reading it, he described as rather slow till the very end. So I have that to look forward to.

I couldn't follow DA Miller down every path, but sometimes it's hard not to be convinced by, well:

When I read Trollope, it is all I can do not to be bored. All I can do, because Trollope always seems a little bored himself...But boredom, as the example of pornography perhaps best illustrates, overtakes not what is intrinsically dull, but what is "interesting" to excess... When I read Trollope...it is all I can do to refuse my impending boredom: to convert it back into the anxiety that it is meant to bind, to insist on the shock that it is the attempt to meet and parry. (145)

Speaking of boredom -- very quiet here. I've been rediscovering Radiohead the past few days. I finished the latest Weeds DVD. Was going to pick up a DVD from the TA lounge, but when I found myself considering either Lady Chatterley's Lover or Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, I decided that maybe watching Jon Stewart online was a better plan.

And I miss Oregon.

'i'm an oil bug'

Even better than fireflies. E coli and yeast that literally crap oil.

He means bugs. To be more precise: the genetic alteration of bugs – very, very small ones – so that when they feed on agricultural waste such as woodchips or wheat straw, they do something extraordinary. They excrete crude oil.

Unbelievably, this is not science fiction. Mr Pal holds up a small beaker of bug excretion that could, theoretically, be poured into the tank of the giant Lexus SUV next to us. Not that Mr Pal is willing to risk it just yet. He gives it a month before the first vehicle is filled up on what he calls “renewable petroleum”. After that, he grins, “it’s a brave new world”.

Mr Pal is a senior director of LS9, one of several companies in or near Silicon Valley that have spurned traditional high-tech activities such as software and networking and embarked instead on an extraordinary race to make $140-a-barrel oil (£70) from Saudi Arabia obsolete. “All of us here – everyone in this company and in this industry, are aware of the urgency,” Mr Pal says.

adorno, able to leap between love and fascism in a single bound

I love this excerpt on the problem of time and morality...

Not only were all good things, as Nietzsche knew, once bad things: the gentlest, left to follow their own momentum, have a tendency to culminate in unimaginable brutality.

It would serve no purpose to try to point to a way out of this entanglement. Yet it is undoubtedly possible to name the fatal moment that brings the whole dialectic into play. It lies in the exclusive character of what comes first...But the desire to possess reflects time as a fear of losing, of the irrecoverable. Whatever is, is experienced in relation to its possible non-being... (79, Minima Moralia)

the inverse relation between free time and productivity

I have so much time. Andrew left for a conference. I've exhausted all my procrastination venues (Merrie, WHY HAVEN'T YOU POSTED SINCE MONDAY? Are you graduating this weekend?). And it's not like reading D.A. Miller doesn't involve a certain degree of pleasure. And yet, I am getting no work done.

still no dissertation

This has been a strange week.

Had a lazy weekend. Andrew & I took a trip to Berkeley to see Rachel, Josh, and Joel (who's now toddling and LOVES DIRT). We met up at the Little Farm in Tilden park, which is built seemingly to a 75% scale, and yet is graced by full sized animals, including some very large white geese. And a forlorn turkey (it stared at the ground the entire time we were there). My favorite moment: Joel sitting entranced by a pasture without any animals, and Rachel deciding that she doesn't know what it means that Joel is more interested in grass than animals. Had lunch -- or in my case brunch, because I can't turn down challah french toast with clotted cream -- at a Jewish deli style place in Berkeley. Meaning that they have the food Andrew loves, but sustainably grown and, in theory, healthier.

As always happens when we go to Berkeley, we went to Buffalo Exchange and some used bookstores. I found TWO PAIRS OF JEANS. Again confirming that only used jeans fit me. And a visit to Berkeley Bowl.

Sunday we headed to the coast. I sat in the sun for a while and finally ended up wading... Andrew always thinks maybe this will be the time he can swim in the Pacific, and then decides the wet sand is too cold to step in. Problem with which coast you grew up on: I can't swim in the Atlantic without inadvertently swallowing sea water, and Andrew can't bear the cold Pacific. I don't know what hang ups you inherit if you grow up in the midwest.

Monday I had a cleaning frenzy. Tuesday was sad because Jill was moving out: we had one last picnic between the studios. Wednesday Andrew & I had a date night -- vegan Chinese take-out & American Psycho. Hadn't ever seen it before. It inspired: 1) a peel off face mask from The Body Shop and 2) a night of compiling 80s music playlists. A good movie, but it really wasn't nearly as bloody as I'd been led to expect.

Yesterday I met with Alex: at which time I learned that I still don't really have a finalized dissertation direction yet. I'm hoping that the Dissesrtation Boot Camp helps with that, as I signed up to monitor it, and part of my role is apparently setting a good example. Serving as a role model right now seems highly ironic.

things I have learned from Nickie

watermelon + mint

Okkervil River

"Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe"

I love the entire album, but esp. this song.

social coordinator

Andrew arrived a week ago, and I've kept us busy.

Last Thurs. was a night of sushi and Grey's Anatomy. Friday we had lunch at Nexus with Meredith, and then rested up for a night at the Nut House (followed by an inauguration of the TA Lounge). Saturday was a day of grocery shopping, a night of Belgian food and Brahms in the city. Sunday we had a triple date night at The Counter with Jill and Meredith and their SO's. Monday we had a lovely neighborhood hike at Russian Ridge, where we caught the tail end of the wildflower season; after, we had a sort of picnic dinner at Andronico's.

During the week I tried to balance our social and work obligations -- Andrew started at Microsoft, and I had the Writing Center, reading Sartor Resartus, reading for class, and providing graduate students with coffee and lunch. On the social end, we had tea with Sara, dinner with Dan (Andrew's CS comrade from Amherst), and dinner with Alex and Kaitlin (they introduced us to a great Turkish restaurant in Menlo Park). And last night we *finally* watched There Will Be Blood. Our response to the climactic final scene was complicated by our realization that the SNL milkshake skit really *was* cut straight from the film. We kind of couldn't stop laughing over "I drink your milkshake! I drink it up!"

So today was kind of a day of errands -- clothes shopping at Gap (I found a skirt for *six dollars*), food shopping at Nak's, book trading at Feldman's...

Busy busy week.

re-watching

I was just watching the beginning of Dirty Dancing over dinner, and noticed this awesome detail. When Robby tells Baby that he's not going to help Candy because "some people count, and some people don't," he hands her a copy of Ayn Rand's Fountainhead. Baby proceeds to basically call him an asshole and spill water on his shoes.

I have a productive day

Well, most markedly if you count food and exercise.

Not only did I read a hundred pages of Nicholas Nickleby, and at least *glance* at my notes toward dissertation ideas, but I also took a walk on the dish (clear day finally! could see San Francisco), and made: avocado rolls, pasta salad for tomorrow's lunch, chocolate cake (with frosting).

And I had some good Scrabble moves.

Apparently this is what life looks like post-orals, pre-dissertation proposal?

HUGE crush on Jon Stewart

Second part of Stewart's interview with Doug Feith, Under Secretary of Defense for Policy when the administration decided to go to war with Iraq. AMAZING. This is the sort of calling out of tortured logic that I was hoping we'd get with the McCain interview...



Calling out at its best:

- Outright contradiction that the administration had more reason to go to war with Iraq than with, say, Iran, Syria, North Korea, Pakistan...

- Best analogy: if the government knew the risks and didn't tell us, isn't that *worse*? Isn't that, as Stewart says, the jump from manslaughter to homicide?

- Jon pointing out that the "selling of the positive" in the run up to the war *was* a freaking hypothetical, so Feith's claim that he didn't want to "get into hypotheticals" about worse case scenarios, doesn't umm... MAKE ANY SENSE.

repubs: only free market when it suits biggest lobby

I'm loving this story about the Bush administration blocking companies from *responding* to consumer demands for safer beef:

WASHINGTON - The Bush administration on Friday urged a federal appeals court to stop meatpackers from testing all their animals for mad cow disease, but a skeptical judge questioned whether the government has that authority.
ADVERTISEMENT

The government seeks to reverse a lower court ruling that allowed Kansas-based Creekstone Farms Premium Beef to conduct more comprehensive testing to satisfy demand from overseas customers in Japan and elsewhere.

Less than 1 percent of slaughtered cows are currently tested for the disease under Agriculture Department guidelines. The agency argues that more widespread testing does not guarantee food safety and could result in a false positive that scares consumers.

This is the legitimate result of the free market (I feel like that term should be in all caps, neon, especially coming from a liberal in favor of regulation). Consumers would rather purchase food (and countries would rather import food) of which they have some way of verifying the safety. Obviously they can't easily test every animal, but this strawman "argument" at the end (more testing could result in more "false positives") is patent bullshit (pun intended). You know, more HIV tests mean more opportunities for false positives, and that might alarm the .01% of people that that would affect -- so let's just not test anyone! Problem solved!

Are the Bushies unacquainted with the myriad stories about our food safety issues? (E coli outbreaks, which are largely the result of factory farming; atrocities committed at slaughterhouses, resulting in unsafe meat, which we'd never hear about if it weren't for the Humane Society; tainted products from China, etc.) Or, more likely, are the people in this administration simply so out of touch with real Americans and the "common" food said Americans eat, and so lacking in empathy for anyone making less than a million a year, that they just don't care?

So come on, Bush and Co., and let the free market give the customers what they want. How much is the National Cattlemen's Beef lobby paying y'all to help them keep what happens in Texas, stay in Texas?

the fuzzy wuzzies

With the move to Madison now in sight, Andrew and I have been thinking about adopting a cat.

I really just want to come home to a fuzzy wuzzy like these every day:




I want to both engage in baby talk with these creatures, and laugh at the bemused "wtf" expression that seems to come with the excessive fluffiness.

Andrew: i can tell you're going to really enjoy getting a cat like this
i don't think you'd stop laughing
that nasally devilish laugh

the radical feminist agenda: eradicate obsolete tampon machines

I once came across what seemed like a crazy idea at the time: why aren't tampons and pads available in restrooms, same as toilet paper? If men menstruated, would baskets of tampons in restrooms be the norm? The knee-jerk reaction against such a tampon-free-for-all, I imagine, since I had the same reactionary response, is: won't people just steal the tampons? But then: toilet paper theft isn't exactly a prevalent problem. What if tampons, like free newspapers and toilet paper, were simply dispensed in a way that prevented one from being inclined to waste one's time -- maybe keep the dispenser, and leave the coin part? Google provides baskets of tampons in its women's restrooms, and (amazingly), they don't seem to have any problems. So what's up with the tampon machines?

I ask, because I sometimes run out of tampons, or forget to throw one in my bag in the morning. I imagine this is part of the female condition. Anyway, I usually figure I'll try my chances with the tampon vending machines in the restrooms. But let me tell you: you have better odds in Vegas than against your average feminine product dispenser.

Yesterday I ran out of tampons, but I figured, I have dimes and quarters, I'll get one on campus. So toward the end of my Writing Center shift, I pocketed a quarter and walked down the hall -- only to discover that the machine only takes dimes. So after ANOTHER TRIP with a dime, I find that the machine is also empty or simply not functioning. Then I tried upstairs: one machine would neither dispense the promised tampon, NOR return my quarter. Now there's a business model for an entrepreneurially inclined, sadistic bastard. So I moved on to the next bathroom, only to discover that said bathroom has only a pad dispenser (are we living in the freaking '50s, people?!). Jesus CHRIST. The problem is, these machines are obsolete, ineffective, and fucking mysterious (do you pull the knob? turn it? give it a secret handshake?). I don't *trust* a machine I can't see into. I mean, when's the last time you put a dollar in a vending machine for a candy bar you couldn't *see*?

Operation Mayhem: on the feminine product vending machine. Because it's time we brought equality into the restroom.

the salad to cookie ratio

Bring on summer salad

Farmers' market medley: spinach and baby gem salad with snap peas, raw beet, strawberries, and mint. Dressing: white balsamic vinegar and local olive oil, with a spritz of lemon.




Underbaked cookies

The best chocolate chip cookie recipe ever, after much searching on allrecipes.com. Is it the extra egg yolk? Something makes these good -- but underbaking them by two minutes makes them great.

lies that rhyme

So I was reading Feministing this morning, and came across this ludicrous American Life League campaign: "The Pill Kills." I decided to actually read their website to see what sort of lies they were managing to fit under that sing songy slogan. It's a little disturbing, insofar as this really lays bare the end game of the anti-choice agenda: reversing court decisions that allow access to contraception (ultimately, this isn't about some misplaced fetishizing of babies at all -- the pill prevents a zygote from ever even forming). When they want to take away your ability to plan your fertility, you know the movement is harboring some serious misogyny under the jingles.

Without further ado, I'm going to tear into this write-up, entertainment brought to you by Marie Hahnenberg, a woman that *clearly* was never in my PWR class:

As a woman who is very conscious of what type of chemicals I put into my body, I am appalled by the number of women today who are on the birth control pill despite the wealth of information about this deadly drug.

Not enough people talk about the dangerous effects of the birth control pill. Many women do not realize what is really going on in their bodies when they use the pill, patch, IUD or other birth control products.

I'm also very conscious of what I put in my body -- which is why I bothered to do some research before using hormonal contraceptives and talked to my doctor. If this writer had bothered to do the same, she would know that the modern day pill contains only a fraction of the hormones that went into the original pills, and that the risk of side effects is far lower than the risks one would undertake with a pregnancy. And that there are even *lower* dosages available now, either in pill form, or in the nuvaring. So yeah, "deadly"? Way hyperbolic.

[Side note: does the writer realize "what is really going on" when she takes an advil? Probably more "deadly" than taking the pill.]

I won't even quote the section in which the writer laments the fate of the "human being" (ie, zygote) if somehow the pill doesn't function properly (needless to say, the writer does not provide any evidence of why she thinks the pill would fail to prevent the release of eggs, or how often this is supposed to happen in her fantasy). The stupid burns a little too much.

One cannot forget about all of the other horrible side effects such as breast and cervical cancer, blood clots, infertility and weakened immune systems – so a woman is more susceptible to the AIDS virus.

Actually? No. Again, the pill is safer than pregnancy. And the relationship between the pill and breast cancer is still being researched because it's more complex than this: it seems to have a slight effect while/soon after a woman takes the pill, but this might be the result of increased *screening* for breast cancer while a woman is on the pill (those yearly gyno visits). This slight increased risk isn't permanent. And the pill actually prevents ovarian and endometrial cancers.

We are all called to different vocations in our lives. Some are called to be married. Married couples should be open to God’s amazing gift of life. By contracepting, you are saying "no" to God’s plan by selfishly taking part in sexual relations without fulfilling the entire act or the purpose of the act. The reason God designed sex was for a married man and woman to become one and to procreate.

Well the logic in this only works if you believe in Marie Hahnenberg's imaginary friend. Which I don't. And even then, the logic is kinda tortured. I mean, what does "saying yes" to God's plan look like? Isn't the rhythm method just a less reliable and more complicated way of doing exactly what the pill does (ie, preventing pregnancy)?. And what's this mythology around leaving one's fate to God? I mean, Hahnenberg, do you also think that taking an aspirin is interfering with God's plan to give you a headache? Do you, or do you not, consciously engage in sexual relations while you're fertile? Do you think God micromanages your desires?

Contraception opens the door for marital infidelity because when spouses get used to contraceptive methods, they tend to forget the reverence due to a woman’s body, her cycle and to God’s ultimate plan for marriage and the family. Contraceptives also offer an incredible temptation for youth and singles. If you’re single, participating in premarital sexual activity is giving into sins of the flesh and can ultimately affect your salvation.

So infidelity was invented with the pill? I'd love to know what sort of Bowdlerized history and lit *she* was reading in high school.

an obsolete definition of insanity:

when one continues to do the same thing over and over, expecting different results.

I also love that Jon Stewart calls out Bush for (once again) being *incredibly* condescending while speaking about a problem that he clearly doesn't understand well enough to even begin to solve.

fragments

I do this thing, where I keep stories/blogs open that I feel like I want to post about, and create new tabs in my browser to accommodate them. Sometimes I don't end up posting on the material because it seems less interesting later, and sometimes I put it off and have a little collection going. Now I have so many tabs open on Firefox, that something has to be done. So here's my current political milieu:

A recent NYT oped by Frank Rich on why McCain still should worry about dissent within his own party (Repubs in PA voted in the Primary apparently just to show that they *don't* support McCain). Which is interesting, because he's flip flopped on so many issues in his mad dash to pay homage to the "lunatic fringe" of the right. So either the deference is too much too late, or some Republican voters are catching on that they don't want another 4 years of McSame policies. Anyways, I'm most interested in McCain and his attitude to the working class and working poor:

Last week found Mr. McCain visiting economically stricken and “forgotten” communities (forgotten by Republicans, that is) in what his campaign bills as the “It’s Time for Action Tour.” It kicked off in Selma, Ala., a predominantly black town where he confirmed his maverick image by drawing an almost exclusively white audience.

The “action” the candidate outlined in the text of his speeches may strike many voters as running the gamut from inaction to inertia. Mr. McCain vowed that he would not “roll out a long list of policy initiatives.” (He can’t, given his long list of tax cuts.) He said he would not bring back lost jobs, lost wages or lost houses. But, as The Birmingham News reported, this stand against government bailouts for struggling Americans didn’t prevent his campaign from helping itself to free labor underwritten by taxpayers: inmates from a local jail were recruited to set up tables and chairs for a private fund-raiser.

And this digestion (at Down with Tyranny) of why McCain is hypocritical when he says that Obama is "insensitive to poor people" (if I knew of an adjectival form of "cognitive dissonance" I'd include that as a likely diagnosis):

...when it comes to giving working families a break, McCain has been a nightmare. You want to know why American jobs get shipped overseas and why American workers who lose their jobs are left in the lurch? Just examine McCain's voting record, a voting record that has tossed the poor, native Americans, veterans, our country's children, and the unemployed under the bus. McCain was one of only 28 right-wing extremists who voted to kill the minimum wage and has long opposed legislation to increase the minimum wage, even filibustering to prevent working people from getting a hike in the minimum wage. Similarly, McCain has opposed health care for poor children and when Bush vetoed a bill that increased health care for children, McCain loudly rubber stamped his decision. Clearly, John McCain has been no friend to poor people.

Also, I kind of feel like adopting Arianna Huffington's Right is Wrong for some fun reading. Because it wouldn't hurt this country to reflect on the fear mongering tactics that the right will likely pull out again in this election:

During the 2004 race, there was an endless line of members of the Right's establishment eager to parrot the "al Qaeda wants Kerry to win" talking point -- including Senator Orrin Hatch, who made the despicable claim that terrorists "are going to throw everything they can between now and the election to try and elect Kerry."

Even without a photoshopped photo of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi sporting a Kerry-Edwards campaign button, this "terrorists for Democrats" routine was laughable, loathsome, and a new low in American politics. It was also patently untrue. Why in the world would the terrorists have wanted to get rid of George Bush? He is their chief recruiter: a man who has alienated our allies, isolated us, and united the Muslim world against us.

The president's preemptive invasion of Iraq has been such a boon to al Qaeda that in 2004 the British ambassador to Italy, Ivor Roberts, called Bush the terrorist organization's "best recruiting sergeant."

And now I can finally close some tabs.

*this* is elitism

Better Off?

I've seen some of the "younger than McCain" ads, and while those are entertaining, they need to be making the point that *this* commercial makes: McCain is seriously out of touch with the economic realities of the average American, and has earned his nickname McSame for some very good reasons.

on being done

My oral exam was on Friday. After Alex said "congratulations, you passed," he said I should take the weekend off. Which I proceeded to do.

Friday was kind of shot -- after decompressing with Jill and Meredith over sangria, I came back and *tried* to take a nap. It didn't work: I kept thinking about the questions and how I'd handled/not handled them. So I got back up, and had soup for dinner. It had to be soup because my voice was failing: after practicing my 15-20 min. talk twice, giving the talk, talking for like an hour and a half after that, and then decompressing, and then talking to Mum and Andrew, it was becoming painful to speak. So soup and internet tv: I watched the Medium and Desperate Housewives that I had missed earlier in the week.

Saturday was blissful. I woke up with nothing to do. I decided to take a walk through campus and down Palm Drive, to Anthropologie, where I proceeded to waste money. Shopping is therapeutic. I bought two sale things, and one thing full price (which I rarely do): but it's a flowy white shirt with yellow flowers, and how could I not? I decided that I can wear yellow as long as it's with another color that doesn't have a tendency to make me look cadaverously white.

Then I took my happy shopping bag with my parcels wrapped in pretty paper and went to Whole Foods: which is *also* therapeutic. I love trying new things.

And then I caught a bus back home, where I had time to watch Bill Maher and do laundry before taking a little nap and getting ready for dinner at Bridget and Nicki's.

Dinner was a dream -- Bridget and Nicki are delightful, and Nicki made *way* too much food, all of which was vegetarian and yummy. And between the steamed artichokes and homemade pizza and watermelon with mint, I got excited about returning to cooking. [Because food before orals was getting ridiculous: I relied upon cups of soups for evening study sessions at school, and by the 48 hours before the exam, I was eating bread with a hard boiled egg and tomato -- not together, just a whole tomato, a whole egg, and bread with brummel and brown, because what was the use of making egg salad sandwich if I could barely stand to eat, anyways?] I sorely needed the inspiration. So tonight I made green curry.

Today I slept till 10:30, went to the farmer's market with Jill, made lunch, watched Our Mutual Friend and took a nap, took a walk and caught up with Andrew, made dinner, started leisurely reading The Old Curiosity Shop because Dickens is my favorite, watched Desperate Housewives, cleaned my shower (it needed it: the homemade solution of baking soda, vinegar, and soap that Mum recommended worked wonders on the soap scummy layer that I had just about given up on -- thanks Mum!), took a shower, and now... I think I'm gonna eat some chocolate.

This is kind of how I feel (and probably what I would have been doing today if it had been just *slightly* warmer):

Till Friday

I just need to make it until 3:30 on Friday. Then I can begin drinking and forgetting the name of characters. Like Ivanhoe's love interest: Rowena. I never remember that name. Probably because it's so similar to *Waverley's* love interests (Rose, Flora -- which are kind of too similar, now that I see them together).

And then I can stop worrying about marriage plots and the development of the lyric and realism vs. naturalism... and start worrying about a dissertation.

"cactuses are dangerous"

FINALLY.

Christopher Walken and PLANTS

Apparently NBC was being an ass and made youtube take this down, despite the fact that NBC *doesn't* have the equivalent video up on its site. Yes, I looked. Because my oral exam is in ELEVEN DAYS, NBC, and I freaking need some GOOGLY EYES on some freaking PLANTS.

"spring break"

Andrew left today as his spring break ended -- and the apartment feels empty (as it generally does after he leaves). Despite my needing to read at least a 100 pages a day, we still managed to do things:

- Saturday, a St. Patrick's Day party at Alex and Kaitlin's, where one of K.'s coworkers gave me a Buddhist meditation chant to use in lieu of anti-anxiety drugs prior to my oral exam.

- Sunday, a trip into SF to meet up with Rachel, Josh, and baby Joel for lunch (at the most bourgie and yummy food court ever) and a walk, and a visit to the Zeum carousel.

- Watched Ratatouille.

- Watched Michael Clayton.

- Hung out on the lawn, had tea with Sara.

- Ate out: Siam Royal downtown, Patxi's.

- Ate in: made sushi, lasagna, green curry, eggplant parm, corned beef (St. Patrick's dinner -- found out I can't process beef very well any longer).

- Had Saturday in Palo Alto (Patxi's, cupa) followed by reading on the terrace till the sunset, reading in the TA lounge together, watching Fight Club.

- Visited the farmer's market... read outside... had a dessert/wine night in the studios with Jill.

And somehow I still managed to read The Origin of Species, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Morris's News From Nowhere, some of Wilde's essays (including De Profundis), and at least start Hardy's Jude the Obscure (bad choice to be reading while Andrew left).

Eek orals are coming up.

But looking forward to Andrew arriving in mid/late may for his internship: yay to the last separation!

katha pollitt: new hero

About a week ago, Charlotte Allen proved once again that being a woman doesn't translate into understanding women's issues, by publishing a piece of drivel in the WaPo about how women are "kind of dim." It was poorly researched, poorly argued, and resisted considering any counterarguments. Unfortunately, there are never a shortage of women who seem to loathe their own sex.

So by taking Allen to task, Pollitt is officially my heroine of the day. The entire article is funny, articulate, and right on. It was hard to select just one chunk. Read the whole thing!

Why did Allen, by accounts a good reporter on religion in a previous life, write this silly piece? It's tempting to say she wrote it because she exemplifies the dimness and illogicality she describes -- after all, this is a woman who cheerfully claims not to be able to add much beyond 2+2. But I suspect that Allen, who works for the right-wing anti-feminist Independent Women's Forum, is just annoyed that so many educated middle-class women are cultural, social and political moderates and liberals. Democrats, in other words.

Girls swooning for Obama, Elizabeth Gilbert leaving her "perfectly okay husband" to eat, pray, love and write a huge best-seller, Meredith Grey and Dr. McDreamy smooching between surgeries, Hillary Clinton running for president instead of spending the rest of her life apologizing for her marriage -- it does indeed make a picture. But it isn't one of women's unique "stupidity" -- raise your hand if you think Hillary Clinton has a lower I.Q. than George W. Bush. What bothers Allen about this picture is that these women reject, with every fiber of their latte-loving beings, the abstinence-only, father-knows-best, slut-shaming crabbed misogyny of the Republican right.

A far more important question is this: Why did The Post publish this nonsense? I can't imagine a great newspaper airing comparable trash talk about any other group. "Asians Really Do Just Copy." "No Wonder Africa's Such a Mess: It's Full of Black People!" Misogyny is the last acceptable prejudice, and nowhere more so than in our nation's clueless and overwhelmingly white-male-controlled media. I can just picture the edit meeting: This time, let's get a woman to say women are dumb and silly! If readers raise too big a ruckus, Outlook editor John Pomfret can say it was all "tongue in cheek." Women are dingbats! Get it? Ha. Ha. Ha.

Here's a thought. Maybe there's another thing women can do besides fluff up their husbands' pillows: Fill more important jobs at The Washington Post. We should be half the assigning editors, half the writers, and half the regular columnists too (current roster of op-ed columnists: 16 men, two women). We've got those superior verbal skills, remember? Drastically increasing the presence of women isn't a foolproof recipe for gender fairness -- Allen is far from alone in her dislike of her sex -- but I have to believe a gender-balanced paper would reflect a broader view of women than The Post does at present.

belated: the just oscars

This is rather late, but I actually watched the Oscars this year, and had actually seen some of the films up for awards. I even organized our studios' Oscar Party (which some of us left, because it was too damn loud to hear anything). I was particularly invested in seeing Once get an award (especially next to that cloying, trite crap from Enchanted). And Juno (I loved seeing Diablo up there). And No Country for Old Men (LOVED it). So I was ecstatic to see all three do so well.

Two things gave me pause:

1) Steve asking me why the Academy had preserved the strange gender divide in awards (which I later saw Feministing question, as well).

2) My realization around the time that they announced Best Actor, that if someone wrote a screenplay entitled No Country For Old Women, it would probably involve a Golden-Girl-esque exploration of menopause, grandchildren, and, possibly, if it were a drama rather than a comedy, cancer. Which is bothering the *hell* out of me. Why don't we tell ourselves more stories about women (and not just young, pretty women) doing mythic things like stealing drug money and drilling oil fields? Why the hell *not*?

And as an aside, what's with the turn toward the allegorical in Hollywood? Not that I'm complaining.

honey + chocolate

I just ate a choxie honey truffle, and I feel like a complete hedonist.

Except for the imminent return to reading Sybil by Disraeli -- which makes me feel like a masochist. Who the hell starts a novel with 1) a series of characters introduced too quickly and with too little development to remember them all, 2) a *horse race* that is *impossible* to visualize, and seems to compound the fact that we can't picture the characters yet, let alone an entire field of horses, and 3) a third chapter that is basically a history of Britain's monarchy and parliament since the Great Revolution?! *Seriously* Disraeli, you needed to read more Victorian novels: you would have gotten the *pattern* of a successful beginning down.

always with the zombie dreams

I woke up this morning from *another* zombie dream. In fact, I think I was in process with it when my alarm went off, and that I slipped back into it when I turned the alarm off. Meaning that I got to see the post-zombified world, and that I slept in. I assume this happened because I was talking to Bridget about weird dreams yesterday, and that I read a NYT review of Romero's Diary of the Dead film. This particular variation on the dream involved being with I don't even know who, in a house/hotel room, and gradually fighting off the approaching masses. Pretty basic plot line. Unfortunately, any children involved become zombies. I'm not sure what happened, but I somehow managed to avoid becoming undead. (I think it involved flying -- don't ask me why for this brief moment me and the other escapees realized everyone had wings -- and then realizing that flying was rather conspicuous, and that walking on the margins of groups was safer.) And I'm guessing that part 2 was what happened after: I remember going through a cafeteria line, and recognizing another "nonzombie." I don't think the post zombie world was all that different, except that people in public spaces were even duller, and, at least in the cafeteria line, made purry growly hungry noises. Which I also had to start making to avoid suspicion. Anyways, I remember getting a sandwich and piece of cake, and moving on. Then I was entering something like a hotel room (I'm assuming my apartment?), when a zombie from the cafeteria passed me, and I was flustered, and was kind of laughing about something, and he turned and said that I was giddy, and that I wasn't turned. I didn't have my room opened yet, so I booked it down the hall. He locked all the other doors -- and here my dream became textual, because I feel like I could *see* the word "click" on the page as he went down the hall to each door -- while I flew down flight after flight of concrete steps, trying to get some distance before he entered the stairwell. And then I woke up, luckily, because things weren't really going so well for me.

the wildcat from oregon

In The Way We Live Now, which is now my favorite Trollope novel, a young man (Paul Montague) is trying to extricate himself from an engagement because he's heard stories about his former sweetheart's former life in the wild west -- stories that don't jive with his current image of an ideal wife (ie, the innocent, inexperienced Hetta). So when he confronts the former love interest (Mrs. Hurtle), she explains her past conduct. Yes, she shot a man in Oregon -- but he would otherwise have assaulted her. Yes, she left her husband -- but he was drunk and mean and the laws of Kansas granted her a divorce. That was all by way of set up for the best line:

"She had at any rate saved him the trouble of telling the story, but in doing so had left him without a word to say. She had owned to shooting the man. Well, it certainly may be necessary that a woman should shoot a man -- especially in Oregon." (364)

Ha!

My favorite passage from John Stuart Mill's Autobiography, as he discovers music to be the remedy for his melancholy:

The good however was much impaired by the thought, that the pleasure of music (as is quite true of such pleasure as this was, that of mere tune) fades with familiarity, and requires either to be revived by intermittence, or fed by continual novelty. And it is very characteristic both of my then state, and of the general tone of my mind at this period of my life, that I was seriously tormented by the thought of the exhaustibility of musical combinations. The octave consists only of five tones and two semitones, which can be put together in only a limited number of ways, of which but a small proportion are beautiful: most of these, it seemed to me, must have been already discovered, and there could not be room for a long succession of Mozarts and Webers, to strike out as these had done, entirely new and surpassingly rich veins of musical beauty. This source of anxiety may perhaps be thought to resemble that of the philosophers of Laputa, who feared lest the sun should be burnt out. (119)

I used to feel like this about stories. Now I feel it about finding a dissertation proposal.

when jon stewart isn't on...

The weekend means that new episodes of A Daily Show are hard to come by. Fortunately, Andrew has pointed me toward something that is equally effective in making me laugh, although less effective in giving me a break from reading.

I give you... Dickipedia.

On Cheney:

In 1963, with the draft board ramping up, Cheney enrolled in Casper Community College (one of the finest institutions of higher-learning in Southwest Casper), and received his first student deferment. Later that year, he got his second student deferment. In August of 1964, Congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin resolution, escalating American military involvement. Twenty-two days later, Dick married his wife, and a few months later received his third deferment. In July, 1965, President Johnson announced he would double the number of the number of draftees. Cheney moved quickly, entered graduate school that year, and received his fourth student deferment. This was quite a sacrifice, as grad school is known to be extremely boring. Cheney received a “hardship exemption" in 1966 when he and his wife conceived their first child. By the next year, he was no longer eligible for the draft. It had been a long process, but Cheney learned a valuable lesson: if you get in a jam, you can usually get out of it by fucking somebody.

On Rudy:

In 1983, Giuliani was inflicted on New York, becoming the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York. Here Giuliani invented the "perp walk," the practice of parading unconvicted suspects in front of the media, which had been previously contacted by Giuliani’s office. Giuliani would often do this for cases in which he knew that there was little or no evidence, but did it anyway to mete out punishment to those he disliked...

Many psychologists believe the insatiable need to humiliate and degrade others in order to enhance one’s own image stems from deep-seated sexual insecurity. Given the sexual nature of sadism, it is unsurprising that, if conditions remain constant, the sexual thrill the sadist receives will diminish over time. Therefore in order to receive the same sexual stimulation, the deviant will seek to gradually but continually increase his power to humiliate and degrade.

Accordingly, Giuliani set his sights on becoming Mayor.

On Reagan:

After losing Presidential nominations in ’72 and ’76, Reagan finally out-dicked rivals Bob Dole and George H.W. Bush to become his party’s candidate in 1980. He kicked off his campaign by giving a speech in Philadelphia, Mississippi, the place three civil rights workers had been famously murdered in the ’60’s, advocating “states' rights.” Instead of starting a riot, everyone just elected Reagan President. Times had changed...

In the early 80’s, President Reagan illegally sold arms to America’s once and future dick enemy, Iran. Reagan used the profits to fund the Contras, Nicaraguan rebels. They, in turn, used the money to kill more Nicaraguans. Reagan then pretended not to remember what he did. His role in this act inadvertently led to the worst show ever created: Equal Time with Paul Begala and Oliver North.

He was nicknamed "The Great Communicator" for his uncanny and unique ability to communicate to the average person the need to kick single, black mothers off welfare.

And my *favorite* bit on Reagan:

His famed supply-side economic policies have been variously referred to as “Reaganomics,” “trickle down economics,” “voodoo economics” and “can you spare some change, sir?”

His inaction during the early stages of the AIDS epidemic also led to the “trickle down” of autoimmune disease, and, eventually, to the movie version of Rent.

meat: the personal is still the political

When I started grad school (read: started cooking for myself), I basically became a vegetarian/pescatarian. I think I bought one package of organic/natural chicken breasts from TJ's when I moved in, and then realized that I didn't like cooking meat. I didn't cut fish out entirely, but I'd eat it like, once every two or three weeks (if that). Sometimes I was more strict, particularly as saying "I'm a vegetarian" meant that I had a socially acceptable way of turning down meat products that I simply didn't want to eat. There are things that bother me about claiming or not claiming the label: I don't always feel as "strict" toward my eating habits as the label implies, and I tend, frankly, to feel like an impostor. Example: this past week, I went to dinner with my studio committee, one member of which is a fairly strict vegetarian, and we've discussed the ethical/environmental/religious concerns around eating meat in the past, and I completely admire his decisions. Well, the museum cafe didn't have the salmon salad that I had gotten on previous trips there, so I settled on a vegetarian salad. Naturally, they were out of avocado, and the only other protein-source the menu listed as an add-on was chicken (of course: free range, happy chicken, because we're at a museum cafe in the bay area -- god I'm going to miss CA). So I got the chicken on the side, and felt both good and bad about it. Good, because I *do* keep track of complete proteins (ie, making sure I have some combination of nuts/rice & beans/avocado/soy products/dairy, etc. each day), and on that particular day I was due for something. But still, bad.

Anyway, with my own fraught relationship to meat consumption, I was excited to read this article from the NYT:

Global demand for meat has multiplied in recent years, encouraged by growing affluence and nourished by the proliferation of huge, confined animal feeding operations. These assembly-line meat factories consume enormous amounts of energy, pollute water supplies, generate significant greenhouse gases and require ever-increasing amounts of corn, soy and other grains, a dependency that has led to the destruction of vast swaths of the world’s tropical rain forests.

Just this week, the president of Brazil announced emergency measures to halt the burning and cutting of the country’s rain forests for crop and grazing land. In the last five months alone, the government says, 1,250 square miles were lost.

The world’s total meat supply was 71 million tons in 1961. In 2007, it was estimated to be 284 million tons. Per capita consumption has more than doubled over that period. (In the developing world, it rose twice as fast, doubling in the last 20 years.) World meat consumption is expected to double again by 2050, which one expert, Henning Steinfeld of the United Nations, says is resulting in a “relentless growth in livestock production.”

Not to get all Malthusian, but this, folks, is *not* sustainable. We've already gone from raising animals on pasture land to f-ing feedlots: what's next? How could meat production get even worse (in terms of animal cruelty, environmental degradation, etc.) in the name of efficiency?

Americans eat about the same amount of meat as we have for some time, about eight ounces a day, roughly twice the global average. At about 5 percent of the world’s population, we “process” (that is, grow and kill) nearly 10 billion animals a year, more than 15 percent of the world’s total.

And we're a notoriously unhealthy country... maybe it's a cause/effect, and not just a correlation.

To put the energy-using demand of meat production into easy-to-understand terms, Gidon Eshel, a geophysicist at the Bard Center, and Pamela A. Martin, an assistant professor of geophysics at the University of Chicago, calculated that if Americans were to reduce meat consumption by just 20 percent it would be as if we all switched from a standard sedan — a Camry, say — to the ultra-efficient Prius. Similarly, a study last year by the National Institute of Livestock and Grassland Science in Japan estimated that 2.2 pounds of beef is responsible for the equivalent amount of carbon dioxide emitted by the average European car every 155 miles, and burns enough energy to light a 100-watt bulb for nearly 20 days.

Yes! When will the reduction of meat in one's diet have the same sort of environmentalist cache as driving a Prius?

The environmental impact of growing so much grain for animal feed is profound. Agriculture in the United States — much of which now serves the demand for meat — contributes to nearly three-quarters of all water-quality problems in the nation’s rivers and streams, according to the Environmental Protection Agency.

Just... yuck.

Americans are downing close to 200 pounds of meat, poultry and fish per capita per year (dairy and eggs are separate, and hardly insignificant), an increase of 50 pounds per person from 50 years ago. We each consume something like 110 grams of protein a day, about twice the federal government’s recommended allowance; of that, about 75 grams come from animal protein. (The recommended level is itself considered by many dietary experts to be higher than it needs to be.) It’s likely that most of us would do just fine on around 30 grams of protein a day, virtually all of it from plant sources .

Come on, NYT, just say it: the reason the government recommends so much protein has a *ton* to do with the meat lobbyists. The food pyramid was always based on profits, not science. Much like everything else under the current administration...

I'd love to know when this mythology around meat started... when did masculinity and meat-eating become so intertwined that every fast food commercial invokes the link? When did it become acceptable for a *very* well educated 30-something living in SF to ask, in all seriousness, how a vegetarian gets enough protein? For a nation that avoids exercise at all costs, with a population that will drive across parking lots to avoid walking (or go in endless circles: waiting for a parking space right next to the door), how incongruous is it, that we're the ones worrying about getting enough protein?! We've got to fuel all that sitting that we do.

The article attempts to end on a high note, but considering all the subsidies wrapped up in meat production, and the effectiveness of lobbyists, and the downright moral blindness that our national ethos seems to embrace, I'm not feeling terribly optimistic.

studying the obvious

I want to get paid to prove the obvious, so that I can 1) find a job & 2) debunk Republican talking points. Apparently, despite economic models suggesting that giving money to the poorest among us would most quickly and efficiently boost the economy, there's a lot of resistance to upping food stamps and such. Not that this is particularly tied to the recent talk of recession: when's the last time *you* heard a Republican in favor of keeping social welfare programs well-funded (or even just adjusted to inflation)? I found a write-up at Feministe that's right on point in response to this heinous reasoning from Megan McArdle:

1) The poor don't need more food. Obesity is a problem for the poor in America; except for people who are too screwed up to get food stamps (because they don't have an address), food insufficiency is not.

Wait: so people eating on $3 a day aren't hurting for food? I budget for over *twice* that, and I don't even buy meat (which is probably the most expensive food category: and would be more expensive if the gov. didn't subsidize farms that specialize in dumping lagoons of pig shit into our waterways, and releasing tons of methane (read: cow gas) into the air). Considering that *one* apple is over fifty cents here in the bay area, I'm thinking that it would be impossible to get the allotment of 5 fruits/veggies a day, unless all you ate was bananas, apples, and carrots (which, I expect, would leave you hungry &/or feeling nauseous). And WIC doesn't cover fruits and veggies (except fruit juice and carrots: you figure it out). Eat at least five servings of fruits and vegetables a day to stay healthy! Feed yourself and your children with $3 per person per day! So with one hand the government giveth, and with its foot, it giveth you a swift kick in the ass.

And apparently (we're coming back now to the original assertion about obvious studies), folks receiving government aid aren't ignorant of what's good for themselves and their families: they just need programs to support those decisions. Some genius concocted a study that involved giving women on WIC one of the following: $10 for the farmers' market, or $10 for non-food items. Guess who fared better!?!? Watch the NYT pretend that these results are somehow a surprise:

After six months, women who shopped at the farmers’ markets were eating about three additional servings of fruits and vegetables a day, compared to the control group. Supermarket shoppers consumed 1.5 extra servings.

Well, knock me over with a feather!

It’s not clear why mothers visiting a farmers’ market wound up buying more vegetables than grocery store shoppers

Really? Has anyone at the NYT ever like, seen the produce at Safeway? The stuff shipped and waxed within an inch of its life? Or then gone to a farmers' market, where all is sunshine, heirloom tomatoes, and ten different varieties of peaches and nectarines (with samples)? Huh. Yeah, I guess it's "not clear."

but some women told the researchers that the produce sold at markets seemed to be fresher and of higher quality than supermarket offerings. Many shoppers also said they enjoyed the pleasant community experience and the chance to interact directly with growers, the authors noted.

Hey, let me save you the trouble next time: you give me money for research, and I'll (oracle-like) tell you what any rational human would do.

Wordsworth: on mountains

I finally read the entire Prelude (1805).

This passage *almost* makes up for the 200 pages of self-indulgence that is Wordsworth writing the blank verse epic of his own life:

"while the Flock
Fled upwards from the terror of his Bark
Through rocks and seams of turf with liquid gold
Irradiate, that deep farewell light by which
The setting sun proclaims the love he bears
To mountain regions."

Studying for Orals

Favorite exchange about my orals reading list:

A: So why do you have The Golden Bowl on your list?

B: Well, I just read it last year, and I liked it --

A: Let's say I were to actually ask you that --

B: Ah! (gives Real Answer)

If only every question could be pitched first at the level of conversation, then at the level of the exam...

For Merrie

Lolcats ‘n’ Funny Pictures - I Can Has Cheezburger?

Wintering in Madison

Tomorrow I have to head back to California, but I'm hoping it will be easier as this is the *last semester* of being long distance. Despite the weather (bitter cold, to mild and rainy, to snowy -- the last being actually rather enjoyable, especially when you're walking around the capitol building), it's been a good place. Andrew & I did a lot of baking, cooking, working, walking around the park & State St, watching tv & movies (most recently, a documentary on Helvetica & tonight, Citizen Kane followed by How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days (quite the combination)), and just spending time together. We did make a couple of ventures out with friends, but I rather liked all the alone time after the constant socializing at MLA. And before going back to Stanford, where I imagine I'll be doing a lot of: sitting and reading, fretting over orals, and spending far too much time composing what should be short and simple emails to advisers.

This has also been the visit in which we discovered the Hilldale Mall. Which has a Sundance theater (where we watched Juno and No Country for Old Men -- both of which I *loved,* but especially N.C.f.O.M.), a Macy's (where I bought my first new coat after 4-5 years of the same camel colored Gap gear, which Merrie now has an exact replica of, making for some rather awkward moments when we find ourselves getting dressed in the *same things* when at home together), and an Anthropologie (where I found a wool cardigan I *needed*, but was still a bit spendy despite being 50% off). I'm thinking of trying to apply to Anthropologie after I move here: I feel as though nearly everything they sell I'd want to design and create if I knew how to do so.

Today, as it was my last full day here, we needed to find something to do. Luckily we have some happy, future-oriented, couple-dom things to do: start apartment hunting, & figure out the location and date of our wedding. My dream apartment would be: on a quiet side street in the Willy St. area, the top floor of a Victorian style house (of course) with a turret and wood floors, interesting details, lots of sun, and under $950 a month. I'm not sure yet on the dream wedding. I can see either: at an orchard in Oregon, or a combination of Heaven's Gate & the UW Union here in Madison. Or if we were to get married earlier, possibly using this old church that's now a restaurant. Too many decisions.

Gorging on the DVR

Things I have watched:

-Most of the BBC Bleak House

-Zodiac

-Every new Law & Order

-"A Daily Show" with Jon Stewart going it alone without his writers (and elucidating the situation)

-Keeping the Faith

-New Hampshire results: I'm glad Hillary got it. I don't agree with everything that Steinem said in the NYT today, but after reading it, I did want to see Hillary continue in the running.

-Lots of Project Runway.

-Basically all of the most recent Next Food Network Star.

-Cashmere Mafia. And then tonight, we saw an ad for a show on NBC, also about successful, young, sexy business women. And the title? Lipstick Jungle. The Onion should probably hire whoever at NBC came up with that title.

The Holiday Wrap-up

The Oregon Christmas extravaganza:

Mer & I greeted Andrew at the airport, and arrived home in time for buffalo roast. The next day I took off from alpaca work, instead being lazy (until I felt guilty for being lazy and, to compensate, helped make pizza for lunch). Since we had the house to ourselves, us kids watched Superbad in the afternoon: hilarious. A sugar cookie baking and decorating session took up most of the evening. In the days before Christmas, we went into town for Crazy Pepper and Christmas shopping, took walks in the snow, explored the woods & logging road (complete with snowball fights), ate cinnamon rolls & holiday cookies galore, and caught up on Degrassi episodes. And in the midst of all this, Mum & Andrew & I played a number of Scrabble matches. The Saturday before, Andrew & I joined up with Mer, Mer's friends, & Lindsey for a bar-hopping night, going from Full Sail, to the British themed pub, to Jack's (where our clothes picked up the worst cigarette smoke). The 23rd was calmer, as we visited with Dad, hung out with my grandmother's side of the family, and hid away inside from the rain. Christmas Eve involved holiday movies, a long walk with Andrew to the corner store via the irrigation canal, prepping sandwiches, and celebrating with Tim's side of the family. Then we kids opened a gift each (Mum's secretive knitting & sewing projects! & a joke played on Andrew), and sat into the evening drinking ridiculous tropical drinks thought up by Andrew and eating leftovers.

Christmas morning was slow going -- Mer didn't wake up till we were all *quite* ready to start with gifts. Always fun! I'm still enjoying chocolates, my new pajama bottoms, my clean teeth, new body lotion, and softest socks ever. Andrew got his bathrobe which refuses to fit into suitcases. After gorging on gifts, we kids headed into town early to meet up with Dad (to hang out and exchange gifts), and then to reunite with Mum & Tim & Grammy at the Hood River Inn. The buffet was amazing -- too many things to sample -- and the desserts almost did me in: I had about ten different bits of dessert, all involving chocolate. Eating three courses over a span of two hours is also a convenient way of spending time with family. My favorite part of the evening came after we had all gotten home, and we kids & Mum felt the need to exercise off our ridiculously huge dinner. We ended up taking a walk in the snow down Miller Road, and then trying out Tim's vintage sled & toboggan. We didn't always end up going very fast (ok, half the time Mer and I were "rowing" ourselves down the hill with our hands), but it was a beautiful snowy night, and we were laughing. The sled was hands down the winner for sledding on an icy road covered in fluffy snow.

The 26th was sad, as the day after Christmas always is, and because it was time to pack up and head out.

MLA in Chicago:

Andrew & I took a red eye into Chicago, grabbed under two hours of sleep in the hotel, and then the madness of MLA began. We held down the Stanford Hospitality Suite with Jill, and I think it was a success overall. We hosted breakfasts and lunches in the suite, listened & chatted with our interviewing graduate students, welcomed professors who stopped by and offered advice to our candidates, took our people out for dinner (Italian food and then sushi), and then celebrated at the end with a small pizza party in the suite. Jill & I managed to attend one panel per day -- I especially enjoyed the one on George Eliot and Victorian ideas of "Englishness" (not so much the one on Victorian attitudes toward the body). On the final day, after breakfast with Jill, Andrew & I explored downtown a bit, had Thai food for lunch, and then caught an earlier bus to Madison. My feet were simply too tired to troop around a museum for an hour after lunch... must go back sometime soon!

The New Year in Madison:

Strange to be back, as I haven't visited since last spring break (and then, only for one week). Sometimes I get flashbacks to when I was here for the summer I was studying for quals...

New Year's Eve: Andrew & I slept in and then went food shopping at TJ's: very successful trip! We baked an awesome dinner for our quiet night in: olive & rosemary bread, salmon in a lemon & white wine sauce, spinach and zucchini. Also: the herb olive oil at TJ's really *is* worth the $5. For dessert, chocolate lava cake.

New Year Day was quiet -- we took a *frigid* walk in the 7 degree coldness that is Madison in January, baked a loaf of chocolate babka, and watched the last of "The Next Food Network Star", which Andrew had DVRed.

Today we took another walk, as Andrew had to meet with his adviser at school. This time I was prepared, adding another pair of socks and another layer of shirts and scarves. I hung out with Vanity Fair in the Union for a while (I love that they have a gas fire there, very cozy). Andrew & I searched in the stores on State St. for a new coat for me... and then searched the West side mall this evening... and now we have resorted again to the internets. Sometimes I wish I could sew.

things without all remedy should be without regard

Today I entered grades. It's always difficult, both technologically and emotionally.

But this also means that *break officially begins* for me!

Last week was filled with holiday parties (department "winter wonderland," grad student debauchery), last minute meetings (orals, MLA), and tests (giving and taking). My French exam was ridiculous: the last question, which seemed to be a comment on the entire exam, was the following:

The word 'ainsi' at the beginning of paragraph x best translates as which of the following:

A. Therefore
B. Consequently
C. Along the same lines
D. Subsequently

I kid you not. This is for a one quarter French course that assumes no prior knowledge, and that has the goal of getting us to the point of a "basic understanding" of the language in 10 weeks. The language requirement seems to be a holdover from the days when academics knew multiple languages, and before the invention of things like, well, machine translation. Be that as it may, I do like having an overview of the language, and a *very rough* idea of what Becky Sharp is saying in Vanity Fair when she makes fun of someone in French. How is this the second edition of Vanity Fair that I've gone through that neglects to offer footnotes of the French? It's a critical edition and will alert me to any subtle changes between the early versions of the novel, but no translations.

Anyway. Saturday morning Meredith took me to the airport, and I was back in Oregon by lunchtime. Mum, Mer, & I went to Target (rare for them), a shopping complex, & out to coffee to meet up with Mer's gentleman friend.

Sunday I did a ton of grading, baked some cookies (to add to the two prior batches we made that day: Swedish tea cakes, cranberry orange cookies, and lemon sage blackberry jam thumbprints), and tried buffalo. For the past two days, I've been helping Mer take care of the Whitman alpacas (*so many baby alpacas!*). Yesterday was a grading extravaganza (I graded 3 final exams, 8 papers, calculated all the final grades). Today I baked cinnamon rolls (a craving I had had going on for about the last month). In other words, trying to balance hunching over papers with physical work. The impulse toward manual labor.

For now, time to sleep.

Tomorrow, Andrew arrives!

2 am in Oregon

It's 2 am in mid December and the g*dd*mned rooster is DOODLING. AT 2 AM.

I Sing the Body Electric

I'm having my second weekend back at Stanford. I love waking up on Saturday mornings with *nothing in particular to do* (which usually means that there are many things I could be doing, but nothing that stands out as being, you know, an *emergency*). This morning I had my tea & cinnamon sugar toast & blueberries & apple w/ pb and sat down to read the blogs & finally make a Christmas list & now, update my own blog (despite the fact that the tea is long gone).

The last weekend at home after Thanksgiving was eventful, with Merrie & I going to a Shaky Hands concert in Portland. Next time, we're going on a sisters-only trip, though. Monday was Mum's birthday -- we celebrated with apple & cranberry pie with a candle. Tuesday morning we got up insanely early (3:30 am) for my flight -- and I did indeed make it to my 11 am class. I had my sections on Othello, which I think went well, despite my tendency to just go off on a subject that interests me (must...fill...up...silences!)

Last weekend was particularly quiet. I went to the farmers' market on Sunday, got some very lovely pomegranate juice, many root vegetables, and persimmons. The week was good -- I called off sections, as we didn't have any new reading this week, and the students already had a review scheduled for lecture on Thursday. I read Tess of the D'Urbervilles (let me save you the trouble: it doesn't end well for Tess). I actually stayed up late Wednesday night to finish it, knowing that I'd then need to sleep through my 9 am French class. Luckily, Jill says I didn't miss much. But I really needed to know how Hardy was going to depress me this time around. Anyways, what I also did this week was socialize: Tuesday was our CA holiday party (where I somehow again got roped into doing the yankee gift exchange, despite my bad memories of last year's confrontations over the hello kitty popcorn popper) & Weds. was our studio cheesecake night. Turns out, if you order 12 cheesecakes instead of 7, you can indeed satisfy everyone.

Yesterday was an intriguing day. I had meetings with students, and then escaped to lunch with Steve & the first years. Then I came home to some chores. Excitement over an impromptu celebratory dinner party: Jill & Sarah came over for apple w/ potato parsnip souffle & wine. Then I was off to meet up with Meredith & Natalie for our trip into SF for the opera. We hit ridiculous weekend traffic (apparently 280 was just as bad though), and listened to Sufjan Stevens to relax. We got stuck in multiple jams around the opera house, and finally found a lot that could valet park the car so we could hurry over. But: turns out there was a *fire alarm* at the opera, so everyone was outside, and Irena found us, so we were reunited & able to get our tickets! Saved by the fire alarm.

The show itself was great -- The Rake's Progress. Visually fascinating (which is good, because I haven't much of an ear for music).

Back on campus, Meredith noticed that all the lights were out... blackout. We parked, and the first thing we noticed were the stars, as the street lamps were out; I saw a shooting star. People were walking around outside, with and without flashlights, wondering what was going on. Only the hall lights were on, probably via emergency generators. Inside, I used my cell phone to find my booklight, to find candles & matches, and eventually to find my emergency flashlight (which makes me wonder how useful my emergency kit is when I *can't find it in the dark*). Anyways, so I called Andrew while lighting candles & drinking wine leftover from my dinner. Took a shower with the flashlight playing torch lamp. Turns out, there's not much you can do in the dark at 1:30 am, so I ended up reading a couple of pages by bad light and went to sleep.

At some point during the night I noticed that my oven clock was flashing, and stopped worrying about the food in my fridge.

Because getting engaged deserves its own post and visual

Us, "basking," as Andrew puts it.

News

I'm been bad with updating, but to a purpose.

On Nov. 9th, I led my section (on Macbeth) and then quickly biked home for my luggage and headed to SFO for a direct flight to Boston for Andrew's brother's wedding. Andrew & I both arrived at the same time -- and then realized that we were in different terminals of Logan. Luckily, Andrew did eventually find me. It was *cold.* Luckily, Andrew also had brought my coat from Wisconsin. We took a cab to Jon & Jen's -- I hadn't seen them in probably a year and a half, so it was exciting to catch up & meet their cat (Simon).

Saturday, the craziness began: Jon had to drop Jen off at the hotel (with the dress, which took up the entire back seat apparently!), Andrew needed to pick up his tux, everyone was arriving (Andrew's dad & Anne arrived right in front of us at the hotel), rehearsal & dinner were scheduled for the afternoon, etc... The hotel was beautiful -- I decided that it was very French Rococo inspired: huge gilded mirrors, patterned moldings, marble-like sink, heavy curtains, framed prints over the beds invoking Paris, pale green on the walls & furniture, rounded, curved dressers... And the French-brand toiletries (which I actively collected, and because of which I refused to banish housekeeping in the hopes of acquiring more). We *did* enjoy the bathrobes and having chocolates left on the beds in the evening.

Anyways, back to Saturday: we hung out with Andrew's dad & Anne as we waited for our room to be ready... went for coffee & donuts... I waited for Andrew as he went off to the rehearsal... and then we took a very wayward cab to the North end for the rehearsal dinner. Live music, huge amounts of food (served at intervals), and everyone taking pictures. I ate prodigious amounts of antipasto, spinach lasagna, and cannoli. Back at the hotel, we ended up drinking champagne & visiting the hotel bar. Andrew & I were ready to sleep (finally) when the fire alarm went off -- so we trooped out with everyone, made a loop outside the building, and were herded back in. So why, exactly, did we have to go out at all?!

Sunday morning we met up with Julia & Korisha for brunch in Cambridge (reunion!), which was a welcome escape -- finally saw Korisha's apartment, and again realized how much I miss hardwood floors & unique buildings. Andrew continued to worry about his wedding reading & toast. Then we were off to Jon & Jen's apartment to drop off gifts and feed Simon -- then back to the hotel to prepare for the wedding. Andrew had to leave first, so I ended up going with some of Jon & Jen's friends (and unfortunately I ruined the perfect number for one cab). The wedding was in "the castle," and it was *beautiful.* A perfect old Boston mansion -- the ceremony was in the front room, with the wedding party on the grand staircase. A simple, personal, ceremony. Then the doors to our right were opened for drinks, and every permutation of relatives and friends were photographed for the next 45 mins-hour in front of the fireplace. I ended up visiting with others as Andrew was in many of the photos, but we reunited for dinner (which was in the rooms to the left), and for dancing afterwards. The music was *amazing.* I'm still hoping to get the soundtrack to their wedding -- "Like a Prayer," Fleetwood Mac's "Everywhere," "When the Doves Cry," some techno & hip hop.

After waiting for a cab, we finally made it back to the hotel -- one last get together with Jon & Jen & their friends, and then we had the evening to ourselves.

The next morning we had brunch with Andrew's family and dropped off the tuxes, and then made our way toward the Pioneer Valley. Very grey day -- but still a nice drive. We checked into our hotel (the Lord Jeffrey), and found that we had an absolutely charming suite with views of the Amherst square. Then we were off to Fresh Side for lunch, which had relocated to a larger place, and now actually takes your order as you sit. Some new additions to the menu (which we tried), but (thankfully) the same place we love. We then decided to head out toward Mount Holyoke, which also has some changes -- the new green dorm building is going up! After finding a safe place to park (Gorse), we walked below the Delles and around Lower Lake to the benches facing 1837. Andrew suggested that we sit down for a bit. Despite the fact that it was f-ing freezing, I agreed. We sat for a moment, Andrew said something about our having met four years ago, we kissed, and Andrew said he "had something for me." At which point I was suspicious, but thought we should continue on -- and then he was suddenly on one knee, I said "yes" (as Andrew likes to note, *before* seeing the ring), and we were hugging, and I was still in shock and asking *how* he had kept this such a secret, and demanding the full backstory. Which I got, as we continued walking around the lake, taking pictures over the bridge, and then headed toward the Village Commons (where we first met for coffee) to walk around the stores & the library. It was getting dark, and now the little things (like Jon's friend saying that I should get used to drinking champagne, and Andrew saying we should get a bottle ourselves) made sense, and we headed to Noho for dinner. Got there, I wasn't hungry, and I thought, well, we forgot to go to Big Y, so let's continue our drive, and we bought my favorite cookies ever from the Big Y bakery, and something for Andrew's cough (which seems to have flared up with the anxiety over getting everything perfect), and fruit to hit my five a day. We began the search for champagne in Puritanical MA: not Big Y, not Trader Joe's, but Whole Foods. And then back to downtown Noho for Osaka -- which was good as always -- seaweed salad & sushi & tempura & udon noodles (Andrew sees something in the last that I don't). Then I had a kiddie size burnt sugar & butter ice cream at Herrell's (no visit would be complete without --), and we headed back to Amherst for an evening of celebrating and relaxing. (We watched tv on the sofa of the additional room in the suite just to use the space, and then moved to the tv in the other room. It rained at some point. I ate cookies.)

The next morning we packed up, breakfasted at Rao's (still the best coffee), and looked for a jeweler to resize the ring. (The trade-off for a complete surprise: it was too big for my ring finger.) Then decided that I'd have it done in Oregon. Took a walking tour of the Amherst campus, revisited the library. Got our "bagged lunch" from Fresh Side. Drove on the backroads to our old picnicking site, enjoyed the view (warm, sunny day), and continued into Boston, where we met with Jon & Jen (all secrets out now), and then had to go to the airport (sad).

Back in California, I had many things to do on Wednesday to prep for Thursday... planning section, organizing a film screening with pizza that night, reading response papers, etc. And news to break! Thursday I celebrated with Jill by going to the 750 for a neighborhood event. Friday I had one more section (very small with everyone skipping out early for our long Thanksgiving break), and then I had to get ready to fly to Oregon (busy busy).

Saturday I took a walk in the rain, visited Grammy, went to the jeweler's for resizing, helped a bit with dinner (venison roast), and played Scrabble with Mum.

Sunday we visited Merrie in Corvallis despite the unrelenting rain -- went to Interzone (reminded me of Mother Fool's in Madison), Fred Meyer's, and American Dream for pizza. Met the beautiful creature that is Shitaya, the husky (and belongs to Mer's roommate). Then I drove home with Mum, as I did want to see the snow that Tim said was falling in Mt. Hood. On the way home, I had a craving for a peanut butter cup blizzard, but Mum and I were thwarted at every opportunity, and I ended up resorting to a "flurry." NOT THE SAME THING, let me tell you.

Monday I read a good chunk of The Woman in White... I tried out Mum's cross country skis (which was hilarious -- I ended up squatting down because then at least when I fell, I didn't have far to go), we made tacos...

Tuesday: Mer got home, finally! I finished my book. Caught up, listened to music, watched SVU...

Weds: Mer & I went to town to get my ring (still a bit big, but went for a ring guard, and we'll see if I can't grow into it, because having anything smaller than a 3.75 seems *kind of ridiculous*), and a peanut butter cup blizzard (which she mentioned of her own accord). While at DQ, we were also offered samples of this pumpkin ice cream cake... complete with hard frozen candy corn. Then it was back home for lunch & a hike up on an old logging trail in the iced over snow. Dinner -- meatloaf that I've missed for so long! Made with elk.

Thursday: Thanksgiving! I did some reading. Mer & I went for a long walk along the ditch. Ate appetizers. Then made our game plan for dinner: I did the mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and kale w/ cranberries. Mer did the biscuits. Mom handled the turkey and gravy. The oven's lower element caught on fire and died right before we were doing the biscuits -- so we just barely got those baked. A wild success, overall. And with us on clean up, we were soon free to drink wine & play hearts. Tons of time in the evening when you eat before 5 pm, so we had a moonlit walk in the snowy fields, a second helping of dessert, and plenty sitting on the couch and watching tv.

And now I'm *FINALLY CAUGHT UP.*

"so shines a good deed in a naughty world"

I am finally -- finally! -- done with grading midterms.

I hope I never again have to read an in class essay on the gender play in Twelfth Night.