Prep For Italy....

Here's an overview, in pictures, of how I'll be spending next week.


First off, I'll be spending several hours in airplanes. It's three flights to get there, three to get back. Between layovers and time differences, I'll lose 24 hours in getting to Rome. Ah well, I posted this picture up mostly to acknowledge reality and to hope we fly Lufthansa...



Italian People! Yay! I've learned as much Italian as I could in two busy school months for them, so they better appreciate it! :D Hey, if the Germans did...



The first real attraction is Ostia Antica, the ancient port city of Rome. This is kind of cool, but very much a morning after destination. We'll all be hazy from Jet Lag...


From Ostia we'll drive to Naples, which has a very lovely view as shown. We won't be staying long here, though.

In Naples we hit some museums. I suspect we're hitting them on the first day so that the people who came for Italian guys or to hang out with friends can sleep walk through them! :P As for myself, the statues on Google Images looked similar to those in Greece.... So last fall... :P

Okay, Italy is so my personal version of heaven. They live off of Olive Oil! I love it!
Later, we'll still on the first day, we make our way to Sorrento. Again, it's very beautiful. It's famous for it's seacliffs, I gather, and we're going to use it as our jumping off point for Pompeii, Herculaneum, etc...

Vesuvio looks calm from so far, no? We fall asleep, knowing that we shall climb it tomorrow...

Vesuvius up close. Yeah... Apparently it's a tough hike. But then, most of these kids have never camped or been abroad before. They're rookies.... let me tell you. One of the parents asked if we would have to barter. Barter!

And this is what Vesuvius did. We'll see Pompeii after we make the summit. It's a city amazingly well preserved by the quickly falling lava. Much has been learned about Ancient Roman life by studying this city; it was so well preserved that when plaster casts were made, you could see meals of fish, bread, and eggs laid out on the tables... And dogs writhing in pain... and mothers clinging to children...

This is Pompeii's 'sister city', Herculaneum, also covered by the volcanic ashes but more recently unveiled. We'll be going there the next day in the early morning.

Part of Pompeii. This may not look like much, but it's somewhat of a personal pilgrimage for me, something I've waited a long time to see. It is the home of Lucius Caecilius Iucundus, well known and loved as the main character of the first book of the Cambridge Latin Course. Pages after introducing us to the Latin language with the line, "Caecilius est pater", the good fellow tragically meets his end in, what else? The eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Very sad story, with Cerberus (Cerberus est canis), watching over him in death.

Okay, a break from ruins. Take a look at all this tasty, Italian food!

Rome. What else needs to be said?

The Coliseum... yeah, this is going to be neat. Apparently it's near our hotel and we can take strolls there in the evening with a cone of Gelato... (see next slide).



Gelato. I recognize Vanila, Cioccolate, and Strachiatella. :D Oh man, oh man... It's going to be so good... I messed up ordering Gelato in Germany, my words fell through when it came to Ice Cream. I'm not making that mistake again; Agnese taught me specialized vocabulary... :D

Ending the trip on a spiritual-somber-artistic note, the Vatican, St. Peters Basilica, the Works. :D What an amazing trip!


I'm sooo excited! (And I did not have time to post this, but I had to...)

Born to Run

Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims
And strap your hands across my engines
Together we could break this trap
We’ll run till we drop, baby we’ll never go back
Will you walk with me out on the wire
`cause baby I’m just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if love is wild, girl I want to know if love is real

The highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybody’s out on the run tonight but there’s no place left to hide
Together wendy we’ll live with the sadness
I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul
Someday girl I don’t know when we’re gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go and we’ll walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us baby we were born to run

- Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen

To Live Inside the World

I'm so frightened and so happy all at once... I feel that I want to move on a strongly as I can through whatever life gives me, but I'm frightened too. If the definition of bravery is to be strong in the face of fear, then perhaps I am very brave.

But I just want to live inside the world...

Random Chart

I made up this chart of some basic phrases and some random words that I know and don't know in my four main languages, plus Japanese to show how much more I should know than I do. :P Please note that when I was thinking of random words I confess that some of the words came from words I randomly happened to know in Italian and Norwegian, so those two languages are slightly overrepresented. German, on the other hand, is underrepresented because I know my actual command of the language surpasses both my Norwegian and my Italian, though it's still kind of sad next to my Spanish which dies next to my English. Oh, well! :P

	Spanish	Italian	German	Norwegian	Japanese
And	Y	E	Und	Og	To
And You?	Y Usted?	E Lei?	Und Ihnen?	Og du?
Apple	Manzana	Mele	Apfel	Eple	Ringo
Because	Porque	Perche	Denn, Weil, Darum	Fordi
Bird	Pajaro
Blue	Azul	Azzuro, Blu	Blaue	Blå	Aoi
Branch	Rama	Ramo
But	Pero	Ma	Aber	Men	Demo
Cat	Gato	Gatto	Katze	Katt	Neko
Caterpillar	Gusano	Bruco
Cherries	Cerezas	Le Ciliege	Die Kirche
Cold	Frio	Freddo	Kalt	Kald
Colour	Color	Colore	Farbe	Farge
Cow	Vaca	Mucca	Kau
Cucumber		Cetriolo
Dog	Perro	Cane	Hund	Hund
Eagle	Aguila	Aquila		Ørn
Firecracker	Cohete
Flap	Alear			Flaske
Frog	Rana	Rana		Frosk
Gold	Oro	Oro		Gull
Good Day	Buenos Dias	Buongiorno	Guten Tag	God Dag	Konichiwa
Good Evening	Buenas Tardes		Guten Abend		Konbanwa
Good Night	Buenos Noches	Buonanotte	Guten Nacht	God Natt
Green	Verde	Verde	Grün	Grønne	Aoi
He	El	Lui	Er	Han
Hello	Hola	Ciao	Hallo	Hei
Hot	Acalorado	Caldo	Heiß	Het
How Are You?	Como esta?	Come sta?	Wie Geht's?	Hvordan har du det?	Genki desu ka?
I	Yo	Io	Ich	Jeg	Watashi wa
I like you	Me gustas		Du gefällst mir
I love you (a)	Te Quiero		Ich Habe Dich Gern	Jeg er glad I deg
I love you (b)	Te Amo		Ich Liebe Dich	Jeg elsker deg
I'm alright	Bien	Bene	Mir geht ist gut.	Godt	Genki desu
It			Es	Det, Den
Kiss	Beso			Kyss
Kite	Cometa	Acquilone		Papirdrage	Tako
Kiwi					Kiuwi
Lark	Alondra
New	Nuevo	Nuovo	Neue	Ny
Night!				Natta!
Old	Viejo		Alt	Gammel
Orange	Anaranjado	Aranciato		Oransje
Painting	Pintura
Purple	Morado			Purpur, Lilla	Murasaki
Red	Rojo	Rosso	Rote	Rød	Akai
She	La	Lei	Sie	Hun
Squirrel	Ardilla		Eichörnchen	Ekorn
Stupid	Estupido		Dumm	Dum
Thank You	Gracias	Grazie	Danke	Takk	Arigato
They	Ellos		Sie	De
Tree	Arbol	Arbole		Tre
We	Nosotros	Noi	Wir	Vi	Watakushi wa
When	Cuando	Quando	Wann	Når
Where	Donde	Dove	Wo	Hvor
Who	Quien		Wer	Hvem
Why	Por que	Per che	Warum	Hvorfor
Yellow	Amarillo	Giallo	Gelb	Gul
You	Tu	Tu	Du	Du	Anata wa
You all	Vosotros	Voi	Ihr	Dere
You formal	Usted	Lei	Sie	(De)
Young	Joven			Ung

Todo é så blöd...

He usado demasiadas lenguas hoy.

Io sono spossata.

Ich will so gern schlafen...

Men jeg kan ikke. :(

SHUKUDAI! Shikei! (Men hvordan... hmm...) Rekishi! Chissokushi! Enshi! Desuedyuke-shon! (Che?! O.o) Uejini! Dekishi! Toushi! Juusatsu! Senshi! (Ojala que no es honorable...)

Aha... perfectamente io har : Karoushi!!!

A Spring Fed River

There are rivers born in mountains, high above the earth. There are rivers that spill from lakes filled with spring rain. There are rivers that flow from glaciers, snow, and rainwater, cleaving the earth before them in search of the sea.

My own river rises from the deep wells of nature, from the bedrock of Missouri. A spring fed river is cold and clear, a child of the earth. It remembers its source; its heart in the subterranean halls of stone, cradled by limestone and dolomite. Such a river has a particular smell, a particular feel; there is a memory about it, a memory it carries all the way to the ocean at the end of its path.

On the banks of my river, I set my feet in the water.

I’ve grown up on the banks of this river, making mud pies, swinging on ropes, and canoeing the length of it with coolers of bud light, hi-C, and ham sandwiches. I love the gentle sloping of the south side, the gravel and the straggly brush, filled with sun and songbirds. I love the darkness of the northern bank, where all the trees bend over, reaching for the sun, shielding the river beneath them. There are tangled tree roots twisting and blending into the dark water, there are snakes long and slender, gleaming like ebony, there are reeds and moss and tiny black butterflies flitting from shade to shade. Even the mosquitoes are sacred. I know their buzzing, their paths on the surface of the water, the strange satisfaction of their itching bite, the sickly sweet citronella candles we light as dusk falls over the water.

Today we eat our fill of country fare, loading our plates with hot dogs and baked beans, chili and hobo stew. Around the campfire, the stories are beginning. Granddaddy can remember the Great Depression and long ago County Fairs; Uncle Jim can trace our lineage all the way from Charbonneau of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. The Womacks are an old breed, with roots deep in the rich Missouri soil. You can still see traces of Indian Blood in their skin, and harsh Scottish features in their craggy faces.

The river sits behind us as the sun sinks slowly in the sky, dancing in the filtered brown of the shallows. Not far upstream a hawk flies over the water, casting a shadow that ripples and vanishes. The steady sound of the current blends with our voices; rural drawls and harsher backwoods dialect together. The tones are striking in their simple honesty, far removed from the hollow, artificial speech of West County. As the evening slowly passes I am swept away in their words, and I shed my own pale accent like a shadow.

The talk turns away from history, spreading into the realities of our lives. Cindy tells us about a guy she’s met dancing at Plumbers’, where David plays in the Timberline band and students of the Farmington School District often go to dances. Janet mentions a squirrel her husband found in a tree at the lumber mill, which she kept for years as a pet. With great passion, Uncle John tells Joe about a huge hunk of meat they came across a few weeks ago at the restaurant. The aunts, comparatively, sit together quietly: Jane looking timid and tired, Julie in her overalls, Janet smelling of cigarettes. Terry describes a recent hunt with his characteristic, bullet-like narrative. “Shot that buck right ‘tween the eyes…” He tells us, “dropped him like a stone.” Sara tells me her old black horse finally died, and that the barn cats have spawned another generation of feral kittens. Somehow the stories of my life – a Valentines Card from Norway, the Acropolis and the Ancient Agora, the Gutenberg Museum, Christmas with Curacao natives – don’t quite flow into the conversation. I do a lot of smiling and listening, fascinated by how tightly and comfortably this world is knit together.

Jim, the patriarch, was a maintenance man at the state mental hospital. David fixes the busses for the local school district. The town’s football star in his glory days, James is a social worker and a counselor at the prison. Carol’s the bank manager – she’s worked her way up from teller in a long life at the bank. Terry was a meter reader for forty years, Weedy was a mailman, and Granddaddy was the ‘city boy’ who left Farmington with Maytag. My dad has tried to explain that he’s a consultant for the automotive aftermarket industry half a dozen times, but they still don’t quite understand just what it is that he does all day.

The crickets begin to sing as things wind down, as I find a lawn chair and stare out over the river. Idly, I flip through the songs on my iPod, searching for something that fits the mood. It’s difficult to match.

“Hey,” says Little Jason, wanting to annoy me. “What are you listening to?”

“It’s called ‘Anima Libera’”, I say, hoping he’ll be confused and run along. “It’s in another language”.

“… You mean… Spanish?”

“Sort of”, I reply, nodding. “It’s Italian.”

“… You mean… like Pizza?”

“Sort of.” I say, looking away with a slow smile. I watch the river under the fast moving clouds and the darkness of the night. I watch the river flowing to the sea.

Best MSN Chat Ever

Elindomiel says:
By the way, nice lumberjack outfit
Father Chains says:
Liisa, I'll get you! *shouts and waves fist eastwards*
Father Chains says:
Say what where now?
Father Chains says:
There are PICTURES of it?
Elindomiel says:
All over the newspapers here
Father Chains says:
...
Father Chains says:
Are they making a statue?
Elindomiel says:
Yes
Elindomiel says:
Your dream is coming true
Father Chains says:
I just hope the poor townsfolk don't salivate all over it. I swear, they're worse than pigeons
Elindomiel says:

Father Chains says:
In more or less all seriousness, how'd you get hold of my Eh? costume?
Elindomiel says:

Elindomiel says:
Oh, that's right... "Canadian Lumberjack"
Father Chains says:
I don't know of any other kind that's funnier
Father Chains says:
Well
Father Chains says:
Maybe the Monty Python kind
Father Chains says:
Spill it!
Elindomiel says:

Elindomiel says:
This is more fun
Father Chains says:
Oh, how I despise your teasing!
Father Chains says:
There are two possible sources
Father Chains says:
One is my friends' cell phones
Father Chains says:
The other is my friend's camera
Father Chains says:
Argh!
Father Chains says:
None of them could possibly have your phone number!
Father Chains says:
So it's got to be the camera girl
Father Chains says:
But how the hell did she get your.... Or is it my brother? No, he didn't have any...
Father Chains says:
Aw, you snake!
Father Chains says:
You don't have a picture, you just read my talking about it somewhere!
Elindomiel says:
orl?
Elindomiel says:
I do too have a picture
Father Chains says:
How, when even *I* don't?
Elindomiel says:
Well, if you ask me very nicely, I might give you one
Father Chains says:
*sigh*
Father Chains says:
Please, O dearie sweetness, may I have a picture of mine humble corpus?
Elindomiel says:
Nein
Father Chains says:
How does asking get nicer than that?
Elindomiel says:
Alright, alright
Elindomiel says:
Fine
Elindomiel sends:


Elindomiel says:
I laughed for half an hour over it
Elindomiel says:
See? I have one
Father Chains says:
God damn, I was supposed to get that one!
Father Chains says:
A cell phone picture!
Father Chains says:
But how?
Father Chains says:
That's Kristine in the background, who else got pictures?
Father Chains says:
Certainly not Tony
Father Chains says:
It's Ingrid!
Father Chains says:
I know it!
Elindomiel says:
Yes, it's Ingrid
Father Chains says:
May I ask you how in the name of something very scary you two know eachother?
Elindomiel says:
No
Father Chains says:
Fine, then I won't ask
Elindomiel says:
No, seriously, I don't know her
Father Chains says:
What?
Father Chains says:
So how have you manoeuvered your way around to find this little gem?
Elindomiel says:
Fine, somebody showed me
Father Chains says:
...
Elindomiel says:
But it wasn't Ingrid
Father Chains says:
I'm getting nowhere
Elindomiel says:
I just think that's a funny name
Elindomiel says:
Actually, you're pretty good at logic
Father Chains says:
Everybody keeps saying that, but the world isn't a logical place
Father Chains says:

Elindomiel says:
You really can't guess?
Father Chains says:
Fine, I'll guess
Father Chains says:
Stine?
Elindomiel says:

Father Chains says:
Either that's a no, or you're sad because I blew your secret
Father Chains says:
I'm guessing a no
Father Chains says:
Anniken?
Father Chains says:
...Pål?
Elindomiel says:
Man... I was going to give you funny clues next... "She talks about Steven all the time"
Father Chains says:
God's GRIEF IN A NEST OF RATTLERS! Kristine!
Elindomiel says:
Stephen*
Elindomiel says:
Damnit
Father Chains says:
There are 300 million of you, and she somehow hooks up with YOU!?
Elindomiel says:
What can I say?
Father Chains says:
You're a stalker? Please say that, because anything else is scarier to think of
Elindomiel says:
Okay, I'm a stalker
Father Chains says:
Gods curse my logical mind, I don't believe it!
Elindomiel says:
You make me laugh
Father Chains says:
As in pathetic, cute or amusing in a cat-and-mouse kind of way?
Elindomiel says:
amusing in a cat and mouse sort of way
Father Chains says:
You tease

Level Up

Sweet Seventeen - Still Never Been Kissed - At Least I Have Real Movies Now...

March the 7th

Trieschmann tried to warn us that one cannot do with words what Picasso did with Art. Bit too late, in my case...

Fragmented, Sleep Deprived Thoughts on March the 7th:

An overworked mind is quite the arrogant, presumptuous enzyme...

It's my bloody anniversary. It falls apart in my mind.
Bloody - Blood - Sangre - Sangre del Salvador - Las Lagrimas de la Virgin - Notre Dame - By our Lady - Bloody
Anniversary - Anni - Versa - A Year and a Turn - A turn of a year.

A Turn of the Year, by Our Lady. She spins the wheel and it lands, 3-7-07

God - Magic - Magic. Today the occult wins out.

It's my bloody anniversary. The year turns again. I only told one person, would you believe it?

I went outside today and saw the setting sun. It dug its way between two houses, in a thicket of pine. I'd never seen it there before, and I never will again. I can see it from my driveway, but only once a year. Next year I will have forgotten about it. The year after that I'll be in Mizzou. I'll never give that sun through those pines a second thought.

I give them their moment, because they may never have another; Time, like love, like water... is something that must flow.

Random Pointless Post

1. I got 5 hours of sleep last night. Tonight? 5 hours.

2. I got Liisa's present in the mail. :D Cute keyboard magnets.

3. I'm getting a new car. O.O Details later.

4. My Google Search Bar is displaying "Sexenio". That looks so much more fun than it is.

French Rant...

http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/002504.html

Phrasebase Quotes

These Quotes say everything there is to say about Phrasebase... :P It's so funny that with so much going on you can always find help if you need it... with anything! Everyone is so good about taking and giving. The motto seems to be a quote I found there:

Knowledge enriches those who receive without impoverishing those who give. Anyway::

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Hello and Good Day!

I would like to learn Slovak (also Spanish).
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

My name is Khalid from LIbya.
I wonder how we say "this is me" not "this is i" thoigh it is unaccepable.
I love languages. I speak Arabic and English and I am interested to learn Italian and French.
I like to meet people from all over the world.
meeting people and social communication are good and helpful means to improve ones, language. Do you agree?

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Ya'll be trippin', yo! If da think da man will let dis thing go down, you're in need of a hona-hona in yo crib!

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You-Japanese, Norwegian, Finnish, Swedish; I - Hebrew, Russian, English
I will be happy to teach you Hebrew, Russian or English (I'm a professional English teacher, the author of an English grammar manual), if you can help me with Japanese, Swedish, Finnish or Norwegian (beginner's level).
you can contact me at: redskates@yahoo.com
Irene
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Ewet Hati, saolasan, bende sana bir yeni çay hazırladım, oradadır, git bak gine gel oralara!
hemde ewet benim kardeşlerim var bir tanede bacım var!
Benden sonraki kişi evlenmek zorundadır!

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En aquest joc practicarem el participi d'un verb i el seu gerundi.
Per exemple:

parlar - to speak
participi: parlat
gerundi: parlant
Una vegada que hàgiu escrit el participi i el gerundi heu de proposar un altre verb
Ok, començo doncs.
El meu verb és: jugar - to play

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명지[明智] <명사> 밝은 지혜.
ok, next word : 다람쥐 - Daramajwee - a squirrel ^^
so the next syllable is 쥐
ps. i'm enjoying this game.. and thanks for all the explanation edwoodseo

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Indonesisch lernen

Hast du Lust Indonesicsch zu lernen?
Ich kann dir Indonesisch beibringen. Wir können skype benutzen, so dass du die Ausprache lernen kannst. Falls du Interesse hast, melde dich bei mir.

Viele Grüße

Siregar

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Work Disaster!

So, I know I had today scheduled off. I know because originally I needed two days off in February, and one in March. So, I worked all the Saturdays in January. Then, I had a February off for San Antonio, and one off for State Tournament.

As it turns out, I didn't need the day off for State Tournament, but I did need a Saturday in March for Nationals. And, as it turns out, I already had that day off by default.

So I absolutely know I had today off, because the whole time I was negotiating to get my second March Saturday off, for Rome, I kept having to explain why I couldn't simply swap my default March day.

But somewhere in all of this either I had to get my dates confused, or Roz had to get my requested dates confused, or something... because this morning they called. O.O And said I was on the schedule.

And they were all like... Oh, it's no big deal... And I know they believe me that this was a mistake, and it probably isn't going to hurt me or anything, but...

1.) I really want to know how this happened!

and

2.) I feel like I've burned away my 'get out of jail free' card over this. It's all fine and good to be able to mess up once without repercussion, but once you do you feel so vulnerable!

Multilingual Fun

Alright, so on Phrasebase.com, they have these little "Cafés" they've opened up for language families. I skipped the Slavic Café for obvious reasons, but I peeked around in the Romance and Germanic ones.

It makes it very obvious how close the Romance languages are, especially in contrast to the Germanic. Although Spanish is my distant second language next to my English, and Italian is like my fifth, I was able to follow the conversation in the Romance Café quite easily. I suppose my Latin also helped, but I was still pleasantly surprised.

In the Germanic Café, on the other hand, I quickly learned to content myself just to guess the language. Even with my native language included, and even with two years of German and a pathetic but functional sort of Norwegian at my command, I was often lost.

Anyhow, it's interesting.

http://www.phrasebase.com/forum/read.php?TID=18310
http://www.phrasebase.com/forum/read.php?TID=18645

Awkward

http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/29852906/

I'm going to have to agree with Billie here, and second her nomination of this piece as "Best Illustration in the World".

Just for the record: Contrary to what my blog would have you believe, some of my thoughts do fall in the spectrum between deep reflection and sheer randomness. However these thoughts are mostly about eating, sleeping, work, racquetball, and schoolwork and I don't usually post them. :P Just thought I'd clear that up.

Honestly, though. Great picture. LOVE the facial expressions/body language. It's not easy to do that with alligators and wildebeests. Spectacular.

I love Chocolate. :D

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Genocide Stories

The other day I took a bath and read most of "First they Killed my Father". It was a good thing I was in the bathtub, because I cried a lot. It's so horrible that when I had to close it, my mind would change the story. I'd make up alternate endings and middles; I'd imagine that all the magical things that happen in fairy tales happened to Loung and her family. Sometimes I'd just imagine someone coming and giving them food; a big tin of salt pork and sugar.

But none of this happened, of course, because it is a true story. A girl my own age dies alone, unable to have even her final wish; to be buried near her family, and be with them again. Infants are slaughtered beside their mothers, two months before the end of the war. Loung's arms and legs are like those of a skeleton, but her belly and feet are bloated. She takes her thumb and makes little dents in the ballooning flesh, and watches as they slowly re inflate.


They did everything right. Their father had been a monk, and he used his experience to gain a fair position for a previous city dweller. He could teach them all to farm, and had many other skills. From the beginning, they lied and pretended to be poor peasants. Loung's "Pa" was such a good father to her, letting her sit on his lap while he told her stories or tried to explain the world to her, even until the end. But eventually the Khmer Rouge find out that he had been in the civil service, and they kill him.


I'm reading this not long after watching "Hotel Rwanda", another horrible Genocide story. I'm making up excuses for why I can't tear myself away. I need to read this for school, I tell myself, although there are ten other books I could have chosen. This relates to my IP theme, I tell myself, although the comparatively cheery "Waiting for Snow in Havana" did just as well. I want to make a difference, I tell myself, though I know I can/will do nothing.


With these feeble excuses, I endure these stories. I think about them for weeks. I rewind. I read the worst passages again and again until I have no more tears for them. I think I'm forcing myself to see these things because they make me feel something that deserves to be felt.

Genocide needs to be felt, to be acknowledged. More than that, it needs to be ended. But I can feel it myself.

Pirates are Universal

La Primavera

La primavera ha fiorito come un fiore. È possibile che l'inverno già si è concluso.

The winter broke. You could almost hear it's grip shatter as the the ice cracked, sliding in plates over the wet ground. The snow melted quickly into little rivulets that bled down streets and city sidewalks like rainwater in a heavy storm.

We had to replace the battery on my Ford Contour; it didn't quite survive the winter. We revved it up for the first time and I had to take a long drive up Clayton to get it ready. The sun seemed very bright and the air was warm and still.

The birds were our first hint of the coming spring; chirping weeks ago in the early morning hours. Their songs were almost indistinguishable from the squeaking of the Contour, but I heard them nonetheless. It was dark when I drove to school then; now the sun is shining. Dawn comes not long after I wake up. The sun rises as I put on my shoes and step out into the day. The walk to the pit is well lit, and I know longer need to wear double gloves to retain the slightest feeling in my fingers.

Yes, the spring comes. It has bloomed like a flower. Winter's hold is broken, I know it. The snow has lingered resiliently, but I know it's near death. In the earliest morning there is a heavy frost; the meltwater freezes overnight. But the thin ice it forms has all the strength taken out of it. This ice doesn't mean anything. It doesn't threaten anymore.


The snow melts, with it the memories that linger in the wintertime. Beside the fire, in the warm darkness of the house, underneath the covers, memories linger in the shadows. The heart freezes in the depths of winter, kept from neither affection or love but simply from moving. Hopes and dreams slide to a slow, silent stop.


Once the future didn't scare me at all. Now I am terrified of it. But what can I do? The spring comes. I can only try to face it bravely. Change comes, and quickly. Had I made a prediction for today,

Six months ago... I would have said that this would be a spring without Tidbit, a spring of memories of a little brown dog that frolicked in the spring grass and loved to sleep in sunlight falling through glass.

A year ago... I would have said that this would be another spring of blind joy, an ease in everything, and high hopes for a summer of endless possibility. I would have said that not a day would pass without talking to Stian and to Austin, my heart's best friends...

Two years ago... I would have said that this spring I'd have a thousand more friends, be happy and social, well liked, with great grades and an ever maturing soul. With any luck, I'd be RPing, at least a bit.

Five years ago... I would have said that by now, I'd be a pillar of maturity and perfection. I'd be the admin of a thriving LOTR RPG board, know a ton of Elvish, maybe some other languages if I got bored. By 16, I'd be ACCOMPLISHED, damn it... Capable of anything...



The memoirs of a teenager make a terrible story. We who are young see every day as a beginning or an ending. We will never consent to simply being.

But it may be that we are right after all, that each day is a beginning and an ending. Perhaps each day something dies, and perhaps each day something new is born. And in a year, with the coming of the spring...


I should say, "I think I'm just really tired. Or really bored. Or both lolz..."
I should say, "I have no idea what I'm trying to say :P"

But I do. I know exactly what I'm trying to say. I'm just not sure how to say it.
Forgive my ineloquence... And my word creation... ;)

Vinterferien

http://ellenmargrethe.blogspot.com/

Ellen Sier:

Nå må jeg bare si at:

* Det er 22 dager til vinterferien!!
* 58 dager til vi reiser til London!!
* 140 dager til siste skoledag!! :)

Elindomiel Sier:

Jeg har vinterferien nå. :D

I'm so mean. But yeah, ours is shorter, and over today, in fact. I've only done half my homework. But I have a lot. Gah. :(

Check out the Decoy Blogs...

http://elindomiel.livejournal.com/

http://www.xanga.com/Elindomiel

The live Journal looks a lot better, for some reason. Interests on Live Journal:

39: arabic, aramaic, blogging, boating, camping, canoeing, clam chowder, computers, emailing, fantasy, finnish, garlic, george rr martin, german, girl scouts, hiking, history, italian, japanese, languages, latin, linguistics, lobster, lord of the rings, mythology, norwegian, orange sherbet, packages in the mail, pen-pals, pita bread and hummus, quiznos, rp-ing, scandinavia, scandinavians, seafood, spanish, traveling, video games, writing.

Wow Liisa!

http://blogit.ts.fi/extreme/2007/01/27/aina-valmiina/

I can't really read this, but I'm guessing it's one of her articles. She's so amazing!

For a really wild guess, I'd say this MIGHT be her joke article, because of the quotes in the beginning. I can only make out like 9 words in the whole piece, though!

It's so neat to find her site like that. She's also in the banner, second from the right.

Heladas Alturas

I've just started reading "El Reino del Dragon de Oro", by Isabel Allende. It's the first time I've read a book in another language, on my own time, where I didn't already know the story.

Reading in Spanish is a little odd. Reading in any language where your reading proficiency isn't above average is weird. For Gwen: It's like that essay we read in Trieschmanns class about writing. How terrible to write the way that poor woman did.

"When you write," she wrote, "You lay out a line of words. You wield it..."

She goes on to describe exploring the world by picking at it, inch by inch, with your line of words. Theres a feeling of darkness, as if anything outside of these specific words is somehow nonexistent, as if it comes into being at the exact moment you encounter it, and for no other purpose.

At any rate, reading in Spanish is like that. In English, I read a whole page almost at once. I read the lines individually, but my mind jumps. I see "smile" halfway down the page and I feel a sort of happiness, or bitterness, as it may seem, spread across the scene. I can skim down a page looking for a passage and get a basic idea of what's going on.

In Spanish it's different. I attack a line of words. I understand. I don't have to use a dictionary or a grammar tool. I guess at the words I don't know, most of them cognates. My mind quickly bridges gaps and recognizes new meanings for "Tarea" and "Helado". But it's still slower going than reading in English, by a long ways.

Dil Bahadur and his mentor-guy have been climbing the alps FOREVER, without a glimpse of another human being. I am beginning to tire of them and their plight. Each detail of how they use the fur of the yak and what they eat and how they find shelter are interesting and then wearying for the energy they take to decipher. It's subtle; word by word you don't notice it. But after pages...

So after climbing these mountains for what could surely be broken off into a separate novel, (I'm on page 10), I see a beautiful 'line of words'.

"Luego de escalar montanyas por varios dias, subiendo a heladas alturas, llegaron a Czenthan Dzong, el monestario fortificado de los antiguos lamas que inventaron la forma de lucha cuerpo a cuerpo llamado Tao-Shu."

Yes! A monastery! A fortified Monastery! That means safety, maybe warmth! It means new charectors! I'm done with Dil and the Lama mas Viejo. :D

And my heart is crushed, more so because my eyes have no chance to preview, because word by word the truth is painfully revealed. The monastery has been abandoned for generations, ever since a terrible earthquake.

This is no surprise to our old friends Dil and Lama. It's not meant to be a crushing blow to the spirit of the reader. But like "Que Hace el Pez?", everything has more meaning when it takes a little longer to understand. It's all more profound.

:'( Quiero un monestario fortificado de antiguos lamas a salvarme de las Heladas Alturas...

Um... Alright...

Interesting text message today. Especially considering my blog post just a few days ago. Talk about mixed feelings: (In order)

1. Nani-nani? What's this?

2. A text message? Who would text message me? Liisa?

3. Sent me a card? I hate that girl... I didn't even think of sending her anything, she'll be making up holidays if...

4. .... ..... Stian?

5. Is this date correct?

6. Well it's in English, it must be for me.

7. It also has my name on it...

8. Eh... Have you split your head open?!?

9. What do you want from me!?!

10. I mean, it's a nice thought...

11. But, why?!?

12. Can't you leave me alone?

13. On today of all days...

14. -gla i'deg-

15. Bah, what's with you, anyway? What are you playing at?

16. I'm so confused... :(

The Death of Something

Yeah, Nova's Middle Earth closed.

It's not like it was a big deal. There was no rping there since 2006, and nothing but the odd OOC post for months and months. Besides, I was the last person to join the board and probably posted about 100 times. No big deal, no big surprise, but the death of LOTR Rping was so gradual, and so slow, that I never really, really felt it.

Ah, well. It's small enough now. A small enough distance to fall. But I still felt it.

I kind of liked it being there, even if it was a mockery of itself.

It made me who I am.

Mountain in Tibet

"Boys Suck"

Ha! I can say it!

I guess this means I can finally admit to myself that they all suck, that they lie, that they don't really mean they'll be your friend forever.

It means they'll call you names they have no right to and not even bother to respond to your email.

It means I shouldn't waste any more time on them.

Alright, you mean nothing to me now. Or little enough, as little as you ever will... The flower of an undeveloped heart.

Et Språk Er Aldri Nok!

Un homme qui parle trois langues est trilingue.
Un homme qui parle deux langues est bilingue.
Un homme qui ne parle qu´une langue est anglais.

Wer fremde Sprachen nicht kennt, weiß nichts von seiner eigenen.

Bir dil bir insan, iki dil iki insan.

Luftputefartøyet mitt er fullt av ål

(Guess what I've been doing? :P And it's been extremely busy at school.)

¡Una lengua nunca es suficiente!

Steven in Math Class

Steven Hsieh: "Mrs. Dolan, can I tell a Math Related joke? What's an owl's favourite subject?"

Mrs. Dolan: "Math...?"

Steven Hsieh: "Owlgebra!"

Elendomiel, Educational Cartoons

I haven't been able to post much. Who can guess why? Yeah... I've cleaned my room, it's absolutely amazing. Nicer than it's been since I moved here eight years ago. And today, for instance, I got home from school, helped with groceries, made a big pot of hobo stew, called Stephanie and Christy and coordinated the AP Comparitive Project. Then I went and got a tooth filled, took the hobo stew to the Moores, stayed there with them for two and a half hours helping them bathe, play with, and put to bed their four children, and waited for the numbness to wear off (it went all the way up to my eyes this time; I think they used too much...). I got home with ten minutes to spare before the Chemistry Study Session. O.o... Life is hectic.

At any rate, I made a few scans. One is a page from a set of 'cryptic' papers I uncovered from the exhumed 'archives' of my room. They're all written in a half rp-elvish, half made up language. I think I can date them to about sixth grade. What's notable about this one is that it's the first recorded usage of my now universal username: Elindomiel. Notice the funny spelling... and that it pops up once alongside many repititions of Elenmirwen... probably my first Elvish name. :P (Elenmirwen would be very straightforward Elvish for "Star Jewel Maiden".


My second scans are some cartoons Stephanie and I made for our school. Yeah, they're a little random and childish, but they're mildly amusing if you know the people involved. Or maybe just if you're me or Stephanie.

Himmel Donner Wetter

Sort of.

Alright, we're having an "Alberta Clipper". For my non-American readers, Alberta is in Canada, so basically it means we get their nice cold air for a while. Yay! That's good, it means February will be real winter this year (You never know, sometimes it snows in March, or even April... othertimes it's swimming weather by then). It also means we can expect a few more good snow storms.

Right now? Well, we had a really nice, sunny day... probably 60 degrees. Almost freaky, but we've had signifcantly worse this year. And then the cold moved in. It's nasty, disagreeable cold, with incredibly bright sun and dry air. It promises no snow.

Other news? Given the title of this post, it better be depressing.

The IP Project.

There's a good one.

What can I say? Can I hate my 'friends'? No, I can only say to myself "I wouldn't have done so." and mean it. And know it. Maybe it's because I am a Christian, or maybe I just have moral fiber, or maybe I have a spine. Who knows. I wouldn't have done it.

I firmly believe that they didn't do any of this out of malice. Or to hurt me in particular. No, it's just all so petty. A disagreement, a lack of honesty. Why stop at one when you can burn three people in order to get your perfect group? And make sure to take care of yourself first. High school is a dog eat dog world, after all. You have to keep your head above water.

Can I hate them? No. I always tell my mom, that you cannot truly blame people for being weak. And if there is one thing I try not to be, it is a hypocrite. There, you are all weak. And I do not hate you. I do not even truly blame you. And I'll probably never mention this again.

But I wouldn't have done it. And I cling to that...

Cönversational Nörwegian

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQvVVsq6vYY

Yeah... Billie emailed me this. Thought I'd find it amusing.

I especially like the Umlauts over the O's. Not only are they completely decorational, they're not even accurate! :)

Too much Coffee for Austrian Jewelers.

http://today.reuters.com/news/articlenews.aspx?type=oddlyEnoughNews&storyid=2007-01-16T233008Z_01_L15321402_RTRUKOC_0_US-AUSTRIA-JEWELLER-THEFT.xml&src=rss

Overboard Autobiography

So, our genius Health Teacher had us write half page Autobiographies. Honestly, I need no encouragement in writing an Autobiography. Big mistake on his part... I think I went a bit overboard. (We were instructed not to mention the obvious)

Autobiography

I was born in Boston. Perhaps that explains my fondness for Clam Chowder and why living in a city of snow and sea breezes is my idea of happiness, but not of home. I am rooted in Missouri, rooted as deeply as anyone can be in the sandy soil that is America’s brief history. When Charbonneau of the Lewis and Clark Expedition settled here, he laid down his line in our rich earth and clear rivers, mixing his blood with the Scottish, Irish, English, and Shoshone Indians to spawn a breed of hobos, hillbillies, and horse thieves that has led directly to me.

I was born from such apparent contradictions, and I have founded my life in the rich contrasts of our world, apparent to all those who try to understand it. Once I saw the Notre Dame, “Our Lady”, that beautiful Cathedral that straddles the Seine and is a stone’s throw away from the best ice cream in Paris. Not two weeks later I found myself on a different river, canoeing through two miles of self-styled “Redneck Yacht Club” to the tune of Gretchen Wilson and some guy trying to trade me his rifle for my dachshund.

I’ve captured a black widow in a jar from my bare foot, pulled a little girl out of a pool, and converted the ez-mac recipe to a campfire. I’ve played cursing games with a Norwegian, paintball with a German, and tongue twisters with a Finn (she beat me soundly). I’ve seen Socrates’ prison and the Stone of Pnyx where democracy was born, played British Monopoly in Papiamentu and snorkelled over a shipwreck. I’ve met a man, blind from birth, who fled Sudan in search of freedom and found his sight as well. I’ve been stung by Jelly Fish and Sea Anemones, charged by a crazy dog, and warned ‘not to drive on the autobahn’, until I am ready. I can say Our Father and scold children in Aramaic, the language of Jesus, and order drinks in Lithuanian. Once a week I attend the First Arabic Baptist Church; once a year the Womack Family Reunion and Weenie Roast in Farmington.

I’ve seen a man who could change his eye colour just by looking at a bird or a blanket. No ones ever been able to explain that to me, and I prefer it that way. It is truer to have seen it without explanation than to have accepted it blindly. After all, when we die, we are nothing; only a memory, a snapshot of the world seen through a cracked lens.

I did Compile a shorter version in case it's REALLY out of place:

I was born in Boston, but my roots are in Missouri. I am a mixture of French Canadian, Shoshone Indian, Scottish, Irish, English, and perhaps a bit of Spanish. My ancestor was Charbonneau of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. I’ve seen the Notre Dame and Socrates’ prison, been offered a Rifle in exchange for my dachshund, translated a wedding cake, scolded children in the language of Jesus, captured a black widow off my bare foot, and been asked out by an Italian in Germany. I’ve played cursing games with a Norwegian, paintball with a German, and tongue twisters with a Finn, who beat me soundly. Once a week I attend the First Arabic Baptist Church; once a year the Womack Family Reunion and Weenie Roast in Farmington.

Update on a Woman Leader...

http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/L14143930.htm

Church

This morning my mom and my sister were tired, so we didn't go to church. I was kind of relieved. It's not that I don't love God... but I haven't been back to my own church for anything other than the occasional service project or multicultural dinner for a while now, and I've come to resist it.

It's pretty, I'll give it that. Enormous and as ancient as any church this side of the Mississippi can claim to be. Rows of beautiful blonde children and american-blonde teenagers line the pews. We have a preschool choir, a kindergarten choir, an elementary school choir, a middle school choir, a high school choir, a purple choir, and three or four specialized choirs singing barbershop style or springing from the extensive Drama department. We have too many ministries to name - from Scrapbooking to Puppets, each with a healthy membership.

And there are good people in the church, don't get me wrong about that, either. But every clear voice seems drowned out by a cacophany of 'christians' yelling at their parents and sneaking out of Devotional to meet boys. It's not just the teenagers, quite often it's their parents as well. Backstabbing is rampant at church functions. There are cliques in the sunday schools. There are five fake smiles for every real one, like a glint of richly golden tinsel hidden under a mound of cheap yellow.

You forget about those, after a while. They're background noise. Almost white noise. You concentrate on the good. You must...

Until you start going to a little church, a little Arabic Baptist Church. And it's filled with ex-missionaries and refugees, and no one is left out. You're greeted by hugs and translated 'love you's' instead of fake smiles. The children don't look like ornate, fallen angels but like children.
The food is not mass produced spaghetti from an industrial sized kitchen but a miniature feast composed of a dish from each house. And the background noise is singing.

How can I go back? Is it any wonder I've begun to resist?

Ice Storm

When I look outside, it looks like snow. It's quite easy to pretend. Then the wind blows, and a shower of meltwater lights the air like silver rain. The ice is so thick that it's wrapped the smallest twigs as thickly as my thumb, yet from far away the trees all look like glittering diamond chandeliers, and the fields look frothy and soft.

I haven't seen too many ice storms before this year. For a while we had a good deal of snow. Then we had... not so much snow. Now we have ice storms.

My parents are from Cape Girardieau, that's a college town two hours south. They used to listen to our weather forecasts in longing, wishing for snow. They used to take all the ice storms. It's moving north.

(See An Inconvenient Truth)

!!!

St. Louis...

Ego Non Habeo Patriam

Time Magazine Asks: "Does sending more soldiers to Iraq make any sense?"

Bush is sending them. 21,500 of them.

We watched the speech. Protests were ringing in the background. We couldn't make out the words, but it soundedn an awful lot like "F--- Bush" to us. In the news footage afterwards, some bigshot in the media declared that the American Empire was over. My mom whimpered. It's existed a long time for her. Not a brief second in history, only a few years of my own childhood. But a long time for her.

"Miranda, can I go with you when you move to Norway?" My sister.

"Of course. Mom?"

"If both of you are there, why not!"

Then we hit the brick wall of practicalities. Mom thinks every place in the world other than the US is too cold or dangerous, with the lone exception of the UK, which is "too expensive". France was considered, but she doesn't know French. That's fine, actually. Curacao was her favourite choice - they speak English, and it's warm, and it's cheap... but she didn't want us so far away.

And it hit me, we were considering it. We still have everything here, and Dad doesn't know a word of our scheming, and nothing comes to anything, but we're considering it. And I've been considering it for a long time. And the question comes to me: Could I really do it? Could I really leave America? I'd be an ex-patriate. The idea scares me somehow. But the answer comes to me just as quickly. Harshly, in rough Latin, it etches itself across my mind.

Ego Non Habeo Patriam.

Finals

Yay, the finals this semester are not very stressful, and the most stressful one is pretty much out of my hands...

English - I want to review vocabulary and maybe the "Love Nest" short story in preparation. English finals are hard to study for, but I want an A in the class and an A on the final would really help.

Chemistry - I'm doing a study session with Stephanie. I should have a solid B, and therefore no worries, but just to be safe...

Spanish - I don't know the exact status of my A, so it would probably be beneficial to study a little. Hopefully, if I get a B or an A, I'm fine.

Math - Even though as long as I get about a 70%, I've got a B, I think I'll study as much as possible. Math is hard.

Gym - Yeah... the final is to Squaredance....

Government - I'm going to the study session, but I don't think it will help and I don't think it needs to. I have a solid B.

German - Yeah, I'd have to get about a 25% on the final to kill my A. No studying.

Always a Globe

I will always have a globe around the house for my children to look at, and run their fingers over, and love as I do. We'll have a big atlas, too, for specifics and close ups and colour photos of Mount Everest and Macchu Picchu, the Grand Canyon and the Snows of Kilimanjaro, Rheinfels Castle and the Fjords of Norway. The globe will be for seeing all together, perfect and real, so incomprehensibly gargantuan and yet so small, and so beautiful...

They will see it and see nature, know what they have to love and experience and know what they have to protect. They will see it and see history, know the paths that have led to their time and their country. They will see it and see humanity - see the globe as I see it, bleeding with culture. A thousand gods and a thousand dreams, a thousand signs to wish on and a thousand ways to say, "I love you".

Sunset Photos

Sunsets are coming at slightly more natural times now that we're a couple weeks past the equinox. Today's ended by about 5, but went on for almost forty five minutes in a really exceptional display. At about 4:30 the sky was normal blue, but the clouds were all pink and yellow. Then the sky turned all rosy for 360 degrees - something to be able to see out of every window in my house. Hard to imagine what it would look like somewhere with a view. Even now at about 5:20, in the deepening blue, there are still little displays of amber in the far west. I grabbed a camera which amazingly had both batteries and a memory card and took a few, however I couldn't get one of the windows open so those look a little odd...

1,3,4,5,7

Mussels in White Wine and Garlic

This recipe sounds fancy and will impress people, especially when you're just making it for an afternoon snack. However, it's actually really simple.

Ingredients:
6-12 Mussels
1/8 Cup Water
1/8 Cup White Wine
1 Tablespoon Olive Oil
1 Clove Garlic
Pinch of Parsley

Preparation:
In a normal sized soup pan, heat olive oil and parsley, add garlic. When the garlic is sizzling as you add it, add water, white wine, and mussels. Make sure to clean the mussels first. The mussels actually open up really fast, or did for me, so go ahead and cover the pan and let them steam a while anyway to make the flavour good. Take them out of the shells and serve or leave to steam/boil more in the sauce. Serve with some sort of 'hard-carb'. I recommend French Bread, cooked Italian Bread, or Town House Crackers. The Sauce is delicious too, so make sure to dip the carb in it and absorb as much as possible.

No More Horizon

There's nothing in this world that time can't kill,
Heaven is empty and the stars are still.
There's only now, there's only us,
But whoever said that wasn't enough?

Yksi and Kaksi, and Dinner with Christy

Today I went to Starbucks with Christy. It was half study session, half hang out. She got Chai, a sort of spiced tea that even I, who have no taste for either coffee or it's British counterpart, admit is rather drinkable. Especially the pumpkin kind that comes out in fall. I got a white hot chocolate. I love that stuff. It needs to be more mass marketed.

We did Government Study and she took my friend quiz. She tied with Austin, although I gave her one of the answers when she had it narrowed down to 50-50. I was studying the Finnish for words 1-10, and joking about how random they all were, and how I really had to get creative. For number 6, for example, Kuusi, I imagined six Koozie Cups. No, my memory was not really so perfect as to keep the image of all six of them firmly in its memory, but the effort in doing so managed to tie Kuusi to Koozie and Koozie to Six quickly and efficiently. I honestly have no idea how it works, but if you can tie a word to an English word, it really doesn't matter what English word, it will help you remember the English meaning. I'll study it someday. (Note: This can be hard with Japanese and Chinese.)

The fun began with Kaksi, I was thinking of two, you see, and Kaksi... Two Roosters! Of course. Translate that into 'horny' teenage girl, and you have a well remembered word. So Christy was proud of knowing Kaksi, so I made her learn Yski as well, so she could count to two in Finnish. When she proudly told her mom this, of course, her mom that she said, "Count to two and finish", and wasn't impressed. She also learned Kumennen because I put her to work helping me come up with a memory trick. This one was even lamer, but again, did the trick. Cum (Latin for with), Men, In. Withmenin. Even pulling in the pitstop in Latin, it actually works. Huh.

Yksi - Kaksi - Kolme - Neljä - Viisi - Kuusi - Seitsemän - Kahdeksan - Yhdeksän - Kumennen

After this, we decided to watch "An Inconvenient Truth", that movie Al Gore made about Global Warming. I wasn't sure what to expect, but Christy seemed fired up about it, and I respect her sense of humour if nothing else. (We both are very, very easily amused by banal grammar mistakes, etc.) But, I didn't want to watch it crowded around her laptop, no matter how proud of it she was.

We hadn't eaten, so we went to Dierbergs and bought a Pomegranate, Mussels, Sole Stuffed with Lobster and Shrimp, Italian Bread, and Two Heads of Broccoli. Oh, we're healthy and capable girls. I paid for the mussels myself, since I was the only one who wanted them and didn't even make them that night. Other than that, we split the cost, which was fair because even though I kept the leftovers, I made most of the food, so it worked out. I know Christy probably wasn't even thinking that deeply on the whole matter, and I love her for that, because petty people suck, but I never want to be a freeloader.

It was a good dinner and cheap for as much as we got. The only letown was the Pomegranate, which seemed to our admittedly less than expert eyes to be... moldy. Not all of it was thus 'infected', but to be safe we threw the whole thing out. We also made fun of the box on the Fish, which listed under ingredients, right next to each other, "...Lobster, Lobster Meat..."

Yes, it was a fun evening, but I don't want my serious review of "An Inconvenient Truth" meshed with my ramblings, so I'll post it seperately later. :D

New Years Party

I went to Kates house for New Years, drove there myself (yay!). The people who came were me, Gwen, Stephanie, and Mary. First we all played DDR for a really long time, surprisingly I wasn't the worst. Despite having no rhythm or dancing skills, I played the game like Spider-Squash or the similar and wider known game Whack-a-Mole, and managed to pass every round, albeit with a D. Apparently I looked really, really funny though, because everyone was in stitches and they took video. I also got the best work out. Go me. :D Mary was a genius at DDR because, well, she owns it. But it was still neat to watch. Gwen wasn't bad, got a B or two on the easier setting. Kate and Stephanie were about my level, maybe Kate was a bit worse. (Sorry Kate!) Mrs. Schlarman was hilarious.

Then we played Super Smash Brothers Melee. If we had had the original, I would have owned with Pikachu. As it was, Mary HAD to have Pikachu, and so I got to play Link with a new controller. Ah well, I won once or twice, and it was mindless and fun. We got hungry and made ravioli and taquitos, but of course with Stephanie as a vegetarian we also had to make white pizza. I love Spinach. :D

We did a few fireworks, just fountains really, and then we watched Pitch Black with Vin Diesel. It really went in line with Scary Movie night a few days back. A creepy sort of mass slaughter movie with a bit of charector development thrown in. I thought Caroline-Fry's death at the end was a little unecessary, though. And apparently the movie has two sequals that don't even go along with the first movie, which I find strange. It's like having an RPG sequal to a first person shooter.

After this Gwen and I talked about dimensions, multiple worlds, the perserverance of the mind and soul after death, and all the crazy things Norwegians do. Mary had gone to sleep halfway through Pitch Black because she wimped out, and Stephanie just took out her hearing aides and was down for the count, but I'm sure we kept poor Kate up. Sorry!

AND HAPPY NEW YEARS!

The break is so amazing! The sun has been so bright and the rain has smelled cold and sweet, and I've been free from parents and school and stress for just a few days. Working hard to catch up!

A Year Behind

This year was the happiest and the saddest of my life.

This year was the busiest and the most introspective of my life.

This was the year I got a job and a drivers license.

This was the year I went to Greece and met Norwegians.

This was the year I looked ahead to life and found myself small and inadequate.

This was the year I looked behind to memory and found strength.

This was the year I had a Christmas in Curacao.

This was the year I looked at my friends and found goths and nerds and druggies.

This was the year I listened, and felt the words of others.

This was the year I spread my wings, shook them out, and folded them again.

This was the year I lied and snuck into a bar.

This was the year I walked the city of Mainz alone and without English.

This was the year I stood on a stage without shaking.

This was the year I won a sports trophy.

This was the year I twice loved and was twice wounded.

This was the year I couldn't count on a smile.

This was the year I felt the sunlight.

This was the year I faltered from my path.

This was the year I kept walking.