end of an era

my flip flops finally today have a hole in them and must be thrown away.
it's a relief in some ways.
and a little sad.

but only to the sentimental fool.

"It seems to me, Anne, that you are
never going to outgrow your fashion of setting your heart so on things
and then crashing down into despair because you don't get them."

"I know I'm too much inclined that, way" agreed Anne ruefully. "When I
think something nice is going to happen I seem to fly right up on the
wings of anticipation; and then the first thing I realize I drop down to
earth with a thud. But really, Marilla, the flying part IS glorious
as long as it lasts . . . it's like soaring through a sunset. I think it
almost pays for the thud."

jump!

survey is closed, kids.

up in the night

best nephew ever

this is a test, eh?

newsworthy?

i don't read the news. i don't have tv so i don't watch the news.
i have a newsreader because i think the news is important.
i read the headlines.
if i can find the patience.

today i actually clicked on something that was a news article:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/17/garden/17akron.html?ex=1366171200&en=392c364e60ee5020&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss

it sounds like such fun to me.

but
the reason i opened the article was because of how rare and surprising the newspaper found it that they had no debt.
gracious me.
there is something so wrong with america.
no decent dresses for easter.
and now this.

you can break my face, but you won't change the way i feel. cause i love you.

i learned something today at school.

no le gusta a jason leer este blog y por eso quizas esta bien admitir algo.
i'm something of a cheapskate. i like to think of it as frugality and most people will admit that i have good habits and manage my money well. i, at least, am debt free and moderately independent.
but, sometimes, it does border on mule-like stubbornness.
i don't drive to school. i don't pay for parking. to me, these are basics.

i haven't slept in a few days. even the days when i have slept it hasn't been much or well. life is stressful, but of my own making.
i have a paper due today. i have tried and tried to find adequate research, but apparently i'm the only person in the universe who finds my topic interesting. well, me and "jose_b" whose thesis i'm not sure counts for much.
i lost my assignment sheet so i've been trying to make assumptions based on previous papers and comments from my professor. those assumptions have led me to believe that i just do not have the strength or the will to write this paper due today at 2pm. according to assumptions based on previous papers, the length should be about 500 words.
i finally went to bed with 3 sentences written.

in another class there's an exam rather than a final paper (praise be) but we do have to turn in 4 response papers. these papers are in response to our attendance at two colloquia and participation in two experiments at the speech lab. i went to one colloquium, but slept through it despite sincere interest. i went to the student conference, maybe that will count? and i'll just about have to attend this friday. i tried last friday, but had to work because i had to reschedule guitar... it's a long story.
i feel like i can figure out the colloquia. but i, for whatever reason, have been daunted by the registration process for experiment participation. as more and more people eagerly exclaimed that this was the last week of school (full week) i became more and more panicked. then came an email saying i could talk to someone in class and get experiment credit. we agreed to meet at 8:30 before class.
i was on time. i was on time!
but then the phone rang so i was slow about getting dressed etc.
so i was rushed!
and i rushed out of the house. (i did think to take the garbage with me, though. something i usually forget.)
now it was 8:45 and i faced a 15-20 minute walk to class. which put me right on time for class, but out on my last chance for experiment credit and a flake in the estimation of a classmate in need. and a failure in my own eyes.
in desperation i reached for my keys.
only to find that they were not with me.
i started to tear up. i was not made for today. i could not cope. whom could i call for help? no one. i was stuck. do i just walk up to class and face the music? do i stay home and find a way in, missing appointments and class and work?
in a rare moment of clarity it occurred to me that there was a chance lilli was still inside. i walked to the front of the house and indeed her car was there, but the point of living where we live is to not use a car.
i knocked.
and knocked.
and knocked.
i reached for my phone to send out a complaint.
and remembered.
i have lilli's phone number.
so i called.
no answer.
knocked again.
the phone started to ring.
it was lilli.
asleep in bed.
i asked her to open the door.
she actually found my keys for me, on the shelf in the bathroom of all ridiculous places.
i made one last frantic search for my assignment sheet and left defeated and determined to give up.

i decided to take a chance.
i took my car.
i parked at the free 20 min. meter and decided to go home after the experiment and come to class late. i'm usually late anyway.
she was still there even though i was late. she apologized for being disorganized which made me feel much better.
i read my passages, surprising myself with how i was actually able to follow her directions (which included reading one passage as if i were talking to a baby) even if not very well.
i left my backpack as evidence that i had once been in class before it started and went to move my car.
i had started to feel a little calmer with at least one experiment under my belt (in the interest of drama i neglected to mention that i finally did sign up for another experiment and have that appointment next week) and i considered my options.
i don't pay for parking.
i just don't.
but...
the thing is...

the pay lot is one minute away from class.
my apartment is 20.
i was 10 minutes early for class.
10!
it's unheard of.
i had cash. i don't know why.
i never carry cash. perhaps it didn't belong to me...
but i had cash.
(oh.
i remember why. very legitimate.)
it would cost me $3 to park during class.
and suddenly.
i saw the light.
suddenly
it was worth it to me.
being on time and well-received in class was worth $3. i would've paid $5.
maybe.
$5 is a decent meal.
$3 is also a meal if you're smart, but that's not the point.
it was a dangerous epiphany
like the time i walked to the gas station across the street and bought milk. so convenient!
but i finally understood why people will pay for things.

i went back to class. found myself a seat near an outlet. opened bess and waited for class to begin.
as i reached in my backpack i had another epiphany. i remembered that i had used my assignment sheet as a bookmark in my chicano book as a clever way to consolidate the things i took to cincinnati.
i pulled it out. eagerly found today's date.
and read:

April 15th-- short paragraph containing a rough draft review of one of the references showing how that piece of literature is related to the topic/how it supports pursuing the topic. Use appropriate citation forms.

!!!
a paragraph?!
a SHORT paragraph??!

all those tears and agony for a paragraph?!!

so i'm not at work. (i DO regret this aspect of my character. knowing that my library boss will let things slide, i too often fudge my work schedule. but summer ho! and i will be a wonderful employee. i swear to you all.) and i'm going to write my paragraph AND my thesis statement.
i've even read the chapter for class today.

and suddenly.
it's not such a horrible day.
it's not a great day.
but.

well.
i was complaining.
jason told me to try to have a great day.
that if i expected it to be a bad day, it would be. but if i went out and tried to make the most of it it could be an ok day.
that's not the lesson i learned. sorry, jas.
i played jason (yes, please DO notice the irony) and expected the worst. i was smarter than everyone. i knew that i was tired, hugry, unprepared and going to be late (at least for something) i knew how those things would end up making me feel and so i knew that there was no way today could turn out to be ok.
i wasn't reveling in it, i was just being realistic.
i had to be in class at 8:30 this morning.
i won't get home tonight until 9.
if i'm lucky i might get one of my sister's habitual institute donuts. and if i make it to work i can see if reheating can save this leftover pizza slice.
(that's actually REALLY good for eating on a tuesday. especially if you consider i grabbed birthday chocolates out of my car and ate them in class)
i knew my stressors were self-inflicted and was "humbly" willing to just accept my bad day and hold on for tomorrow.

the thing is. sometimes things work differently than you expect. even if your expectations are well-reasoned, realistic and based on considerable experience.
this is sounding super cheeseball and touching moments (but in my defense, if mr. and mrs. cool and anti-cheese "solids and stripes only, thank you" can have a baby and start writing letters as if they were him... creative, yes. but cheesy. i'm sorry. it just is. not all cheese is bad. but cheese is cheese, kids.) and i apologize.
but
it's not that i always lack faith.
just lately i haven't really been exercising it.
it's easy to let things pass by and not recognize them for what they are.
very easy.
living is easy with eyes closed, right?
it's easy to be ungrateful and sometimes the lack of recognition can make life scary and unmanageable.

i just have to admit that me alone... nothing would've happened today.
not even one thing.
but certainly i wouldn't have taken the trash, thought to find lilli, thought to call lilli OR have been willing to pay for parking.

and i just have to say that.
because
i do.

please to come

my jump rope team is performing this coming monday, march 10 at the institute here in capital city. the festivities begin at 7pm, i believe, but we might be slated as the last act.

you really don't want to miss it.

if you want in on the action, there're practices tonight and thursday at 9pm at the institute.

come!

frustration

sometimes it is insanely too hard to print things.
sometimes.
sometimes i get really angry about silly things.
like people who cite and proclaim their "coolness" using things I INTRODUCED THEM to.
so vain. so vain vain vain am i.
but joey was the first and until she gets the credit i will continue to be frustrated.

you look like death

"...mother nature's pissed..." (and something about 'better watch out.')
that's all i heard of their conversation, but what with the creaking door and darkening skies, i admit, i walked outside with no small degree of trepidation.

my computer died. little bessy. so sad. she was so young. sometimes i can't think about it.

"schatzi" is a term of endearment

i just want to share with you of these jokes.

i love the gmail chat. it's the only way i talk to anyone, really. especially my faraway familys.

this afternoon, since i got off early for a doctor's appointment, i was on the gmail and both my mommy and my brother-in-law were online. by the whim of fate their chat messages seemed to present a sort of conversation to my view.

first, my mommy:

now, christopher:

----------------
Listening to: Final Fantasy - The CN Tower Belongs to the Dead
via FoxyTunes

it only makes no difference to me

[text to be added later]

still to be completed by others

words to describe me:
quixotic
logorrhea

tired

scott:
recondite
cryptic (?-approved, but not suggested, by scott)

jo:
convivial... minus the definitions about food.

oh ho ho, hoity toity

"to take part in 'a severe contest between intelligence, which presses forward, and an unworthy, timid ignorance obstructing our progress.'"

i think that i might, after all, like the economist.
up until now i have been prejudiced against it. mainly because of who introduced me to it, not that i don't love them dearly, but they are a class apart and i always lumped it in with them.

also because of that slightly superior little quote they put by their "enum/chron" information and because of things like this:

=
but deep in my heart i always knew i liked that advertising campaign. and the other day when i was reading...er, checking, it on the bindery cart i found this article that i couldn't put back on the cart until i'd found the online version. i haven't actually finished reading it yet, but i like talking. and words and stuff. but mostly i like that it's kind of not that novel of an idea to me (that conversational rules would be relatively universal throughout time and geography--i almost said time and space, but then i realized that maybe aliens DO converse differently than humans do.) and i think in other hands, dare i at this fledgling state of my support say lesser hands? it could've been a boring short read. and this isn't. at least not to me.
i also like that it's published anonymously, but i don't really understand that because then it went on to talk about the prominent editors of the past.
and then also tim started a blog with a post about an article from the economist and i just feel like maybe it's time at last to embrace.

and why do i feel the need to declare that publicly? oh well. it's my weblog not yours.

throw off your mental chains!

this is a recruitment post.
the idea is that if you see the pictures you will want to be in them.
the goal is to have everyone in the world join the team. like world peace. just ask coach fredrick. (MY old coach. and so famous!) jump rope "make[s] this world a better place."

these pictures are actually old (if you can believe that i've had a team since it was warm enough to practice in viv's backyard!) and not everyone is represented, but it's all i've got right now.

viv and i do the wheel while erin goes solo.


viv and i let miles in on our wheel.



and rob and tammie rock the double dutch. i wish i could show you his power tricks.



leo focuses on his "fundamentals"



and then rob stuns all with his mad skills in the wheel.

why is rob so good at everything?



but jump rope is also for fun and games. here we stole cake from the sorority sisters and ate it. yum.

*thanks to rob for sending me the pics.

to be completed by others.

words to describe me:
quixotic
logorrhea

tired

as i stand knocking

it's the kind of thing that makes you want to write. that makes you wish you wrote.

i was talking to my friend with literary aspirations this morning on el internet. i told him i never had anything to write about anymore.
it was slow at the up's so i was reading. and i was reading short stories by thaddeus brewster. i hadn't read them in a long time.
brewster stories always make me think about the process of writing. yesterday was thanksgiving and my father and i were discussing good stories and bad storytelling.

i'm scandalously reckless with my keys. when my sister exclaimed at the number of keys on the ring i tossed to her, it never occurred to me that i might need any of them. it didn't dawn on me that the reason there were so many keys was that for most places i go, i need a key to get in.

it's happened before, working on a weekend, but there's always someone there. i knocked. and cringed at the mocking soon to begin. i knocked again. i could here faint clicks and shifts that gave me hope my boss was still around. then i heard it. "hey." it took me a minute to realize that the man studying at the nearby table was addressing me in such a private moment as i had imagined myself to be in. "you working?" "i'm trying to."

bernie went on for 45 minutes to tell me about the signs of the times and the bible code. to inform me that i was young and smart and unfortunate.
he shook my hand at least three times and finally allowed me to go back downstairs and find a security guard to let me in to the office.

meeting bernie makes you think.
at first i thought about the end of the world and that it was sad to have to see all the "evil" of the banks and "you know people talk about the beast...some of that's this, right? the computer." but that notion promptly yielded its position to other thoughts. it didn't take long to remember that the world isn't completely done for (i am the author of a happy blog, for goodness sake) and i wished i could have interjected a positive note into our one-sided conversation. as i recalled the conversation, stepping around photocopied newspaper articles on the ground and wondering who exactly it is that comes in on a late friday afternoon on a campus holiday to do work at the library and what exactly they were working on, i reflected on my reaction at the outset of the conversation.
i thought he was completely insane.

he wanted to show me his books. all about the bible and the bible code and the apocalypse.
next would come the bank and the 22 cents and the overdraft charges. maybe he could get them reversed.
but that's why he's so mad.
and the bank.
and that's why he had to come get these books.
he had another book by this author, it was written in 2002, but this was written in 1996.
and he just found this one. it was written in 1973.
he was sixteen.
in the panama canal zone.
he was sixteen.
in high school.
but the lady at the bank was just rude. (foul language ensued and picked up toward the end of the conversation.)
and that's why he had to come get these books.
he was in the pawn shop.
the lady there is nice. she likes him.
and i don't know if you remember, but they found these artifacts that were hitler's.
and he remembered the newspaper article.
and the jcc threw him out.
and the skybox threw him out.
did i get cookies at the gateway? they threw him out.
and that's why he had to come get these books.

i'm not doing him justice.
the story was so incoherent, i thought he was just loopy. but all his dates checked out, he knew what year it was, he had a legitimate looking print out from chase bank. but there were no connections, no transitions. yet he told it to me as if he were making a clear, organized progressive argument almost as if each point had a causal relation to the next.

as i kept listening, knowing against reason that there must be some sort of organizing principle, i was finally able to follow his train of thought. i finally grasped how all the seemingly disparate anecdotes he was relating to me related to hebrew and code-breakers.
and i felt like i had just lived in a faulkner novel for an hour.
and i wanted to tell a story like bernie.
but i can't.
not quite.