We went swimming in the ocean. My dad got in first, as I ran to get into my swimsuit. When I came back out, my dad was drifting out in the intercoastal.
"Dad?" I called.
"Yeah?"
"How are we going to get back out?"
He turned for that, looking over at the dock, some feet above the water at mid-tide. Then he slumped back down onto the raft. "We'll figure it out."
We did. He tried to leap from the raft to the dock, fell halfway and hit his knee on the razor sharp barnacles that grow on every wooden piling and rope here. He hissed as the water turned red around him.
We ended up going over towards the seawall, where we found an area with fewer barnacles and shallower water, and were able to clamber out without further injury. My dad's knee looked terrible, with three deep curved cuts that bled profusely for some minutes.
But his biggest concern was getting the bleeding to stop in time to walk to the beach for sunset. My mom, laughing at the three of us on foot, drove past in the armada. As we had expected, she never made it to the beach. She had been unable to find parking, and returned home, the joke on her.
We walked instead, and it wasn't a bad walk. That time of day, even crossing the road wasn't too bad. Sunsets here are nothing short of incredible. There were hermit crabs scuttling across the beach. Melissa found a coconut and declared that she would bring it home, giving me flashbacks to the coconut that Tom, Prompong, and I had cut open back in Laws. She gave up halfway and 'accidentally dropped it'.
Every Sunday in our neighborhood there is a floating raft party. It seems to center around our dock, although we may never take part in it. (Melissa and Mom have sworn never to enter the ocean water) Some people have their dogs out there on the rafts with them - and not all small dogs, either! I saw a golden retriever relaxing, his paws hanging out over the edge of his sagging raft.
My appetite here continues to swing. Some days I feel as if I could go for hours and hours without eating, other days I can't get enough. I can't explain this.
Yesterday was Father's Day and my dad bought a new grill, and used it for the first time. :)
The night before we celebrated Melissa's 17th birthday on a dinner cruise, the Calypso. There was a buffet and dancing during a sunset in the bay. Melissa dances better than anyone, especially my own little sister, has a right to. I took quick shutter pictures of it for what will soon be an amusing facebook album. The sunset too was breathtaking! As a special request, I asked the DJ to play Dancing Queen. (Young and Sweet, only 17!) She was the star of the dance floor.
The best part was Cotton Eyed Joe, the last song before we disembarked. It's such a good old fashioned Country Song, and here we were, some Hillbilly refugees from the far off land of Missouri. We all knew the song, and Dad started doing the fake banjo thing, and my mom was dancing too, and Melissa was doing a bona fide 'Cotton Eyed Joe', kicking her legs up so high that people were turning and staring, wide eyed. A few other high school girls got behind her and tried to imitate her - their version was mediocre, at best, and they soon tired.
We are starting to meet a few people. There is a very nice lady in the neighborhood named Debbie, who has taken an especial interest in Melissa, and has introduced her to several kids, as well as the Indian Rocks Baptist Church, where I think we will all be going, at least for the summer. We went to the first service on Sunday, and I have to admit, I was impressed by the sermon. It was engaging, practical, and well rooted not only in the Bible, but in an unusual part of the Bible. It's a mega church, complete with a gift shop, but it would be wrong merely to judge it for it's size, right?
June 22, 2009
Travel Blog Ideas
I have been thinking more about my travel blog, and how to organize it. There are some different options:
1.) Blog about each trip as it happens, or immediately following
Pros: Very organized, seems more professional, will work well when I am studying abroad
Cons: I don't travel enough, or regularly enough - I would have to backdate extensively to make this work, it would feel weird to write too much about any one trip, etc.
2.) Blog about whatever I want, whenever I want
Pros: This is the easiest and most fun for me, the blog will be updated very regularly, it makes it look like I've been more places because of the random juxtapositions.
Cons: Very disorganized
3.) Pick a way to organize the blog (by trip, by theme, etc), or even one or two ways and have different 'features'.
Pros: Organized enough
Cons: Hardest for me
I'm leaning towards number three, but having a hard time figuring out what sorts of organization methods I should employ. Should I do it in the form of articles, like, "A Day at Suomenlinna", or "The Cloud Forest of Costa Rica"? Should I have random features like "Picture of the Week" with a story behind it? And should I interrupt all of this when I am actually traveling, in order to talk about the here and now?
Any advice would be appreciated! :D (This means you, Stephanie and Uni...)
1.) Blog about each trip as it happens, or immediately following
Pros: Very organized, seems more professional, will work well when I am studying abroad
Cons: I don't travel enough, or regularly enough - I would have to backdate extensively to make this work, it would feel weird to write too much about any one trip, etc.
2.) Blog about whatever I want, whenever I want
Pros: This is the easiest and most fun for me, the blog will be updated very regularly, it makes it look like I've been more places because of the random juxtapositions.
Cons: Very disorganized
3.) Pick a way to organize the blog (by trip, by theme, etc), or even one or two ways and have different 'features'.
Pros: Organized enough
Cons: Hardest for me
I'm leaning towards number three, but having a hard time figuring out what sorts of organization methods I should employ. Should I do it in the form of articles, like, "A Day at Suomenlinna", or "The Cloud Forest of Costa Rica"? Should I have random features like "Picture of the Week" with a story behind it? And should I interrupt all of this when I am actually traveling, in order to talk about the here and now?
Any advice would be appreciated! :D (This means you, Stephanie and Uni...)
June 19, 2009
Back to Work
The chaos of the move disrupted everything. Now I am trying to go back to some projects - my memoirs for last summer, learning Japanese and about Japan.
These things get easier the longer I work on them, somehow, so I knew that I needed to start. I read the first few pages of a book I bought used, called Japanese Inn, last night. It told me about a semi-legendary Japanese beach called Miho's Beach - I want to look it up, and if anything doesn't work out this summer it's maybe another possible destination. You can see Mt. Fuji from the beach, so I know it's not crazy far away from other things we're doing. Miho's beach is supposedly still beautiful today, with it's black volcanic sands, pine groves, and view of Fuji, but in older days, when it had white sands, it was more beautiful yet. So beautiful, in fact, that the legends say that an angel descended from the heavens to dance on the beach, and left her feathery robe on the branch of a wind shaped pine. While she bathed, a fisherman found it, and wouldn't give it back unless she danced for him. She danced the celestial dance as the heavens provided the music, and afterwards vanished into a mist...
My memoirs. Today I brainstormed all the important points I want to cover about Monteverde, Manuel Antonio, and my first day with the host family. I also touched up a lot of bad spots in earlier entrees. Hopefully, by next Wednesday, I'll have Costa Rica done up until the Host Family stay begins, and also do a few entrees of Finland. It's probably unrealistic to have even a rough draft completely done by the time I go to Japan, but it would be nice to get close, because I'm going to have a lot to say about Japan, too!
It's funny, because these days a day doesn't hold much. I get up, I run some errands, I maybe read some, clean a lot, cook, go to bed. So when I'm reading what I did in a single day in my memoirs, it's unbelievable! One day, I started with a hike through a cloud rainforest, then went to a hummingbird sanctuary, then there was a long drive south down the mountains and along the coast, and we went to a club that night and danced after seeing spider monkeys and sloths at our hotel.
I think what's amazing about Vacation is that you expect things to happen - a year goes by in your 'grey' ordinary life and you have to think to realize how much really happened - as it happens it's just life. But on a vacation you're ready and anticipating life to happen. And of course, it does.
I head each entree with a date and a title, often a location. I also say the day of the week. I almost took them out, at one point, then I remembered why I included them to start with - why I like them there. It's odd, but Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday - it's so pedestrian, that it almost ties the unreal world of the trips with the real world I move in every day. Saturday, ha! And to think, ordinarily I would be working at the library all day. Sunday, that's church! No, wait, Saturday was the rainforest, Sunday was San Jose - or something like that. ;) All of this subconscious, of course.
These things get easier the longer I work on them, somehow, so I knew that I needed to start. I read the first few pages of a book I bought used, called Japanese Inn, last night. It told me about a semi-legendary Japanese beach called Miho's Beach - I want to look it up, and if anything doesn't work out this summer it's maybe another possible destination. You can see Mt. Fuji from the beach, so I know it's not crazy far away from other things we're doing. Miho's beach is supposedly still beautiful today, with it's black volcanic sands, pine groves, and view of Fuji, but in older days, when it had white sands, it was more beautiful yet. So beautiful, in fact, that the legends say that an angel descended from the heavens to dance on the beach, and left her feathery robe on the branch of a wind shaped pine. While she bathed, a fisherman found it, and wouldn't give it back unless she danced for him. She danced the celestial dance as the heavens provided the music, and afterwards vanished into a mist...
My memoirs. Today I brainstormed all the important points I want to cover about Monteverde, Manuel Antonio, and my first day with the host family. I also touched up a lot of bad spots in earlier entrees. Hopefully, by next Wednesday, I'll have Costa Rica done up until the Host Family stay begins, and also do a few entrees of Finland. It's probably unrealistic to have even a rough draft completely done by the time I go to Japan, but it would be nice to get close, because I'm going to have a lot to say about Japan, too!
It's funny, because these days a day doesn't hold much. I get up, I run some errands, I maybe read some, clean a lot, cook, go to bed. So when I'm reading what I did in a single day in my memoirs, it's unbelievable! One day, I started with a hike through a cloud rainforest, then went to a hummingbird sanctuary, then there was a long drive south down the mountains and along the coast, and we went to a club that night and danced after seeing spider monkeys and sloths at our hotel.
I think what's amazing about Vacation is that you expect things to happen - a year goes by in your 'grey' ordinary life and you have to think to realize how much really happened - as it happens it's just life. But on a vacation you're ready and anticipating life to happen. And of course, it does.
I head each entree with a date and a title, often a location. I also say the day of the week. I almost took them out, at one point, then I remembered why I included them to start with - why I like them there. It's odd, but Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday - it's so pedestrian, that it almost ties the unreal world of the trips with the real world I move in every day. Saturday, ha! And to think, ordinarily I would be working at the library all day. Sunday, that's church! No, wait, Saturday was the rainforest, Sunday was San Jose - or something like that. ;) All of this subconscious, of course.
June 15, 2009
Failed Star
Why is the term “failed star” synonymous with brown dwarfs? On the one hand, brown dwarfs lack the mass to sustain nuclear fusion in their cores. On the other hand, who said brown dwarfs were trying to be stars? Who ever said that becoming a star was the pinnacle of stellar living? Perhaps brown dwarfs are perfectly happy the way they are. In a world of equality and political correctness, brown dwarfs could be viewed as “over-achieving Jupiters”, or gas supergiants.
--Astroengine.com
June 14, 2009
Update on My New Floridian Life
We moved out of the hotel and into the new home. Dad returned from Paris. The house is full of our furniture and the number of boxes obstructing our passage is quickly diminishing. The music and several T.V.s are up and running, and the large black dachshunds next door have discovered Tidbit and vice versa, so it's goodbye to the quiet we had before!
The dock is very different from the one we have at Lake of the Ozarks - it's on piles, instead of floating, so it doesn't go up and down with the tides, and doesn't rock in the wake of boats or dolphins. When the tide is low it's several feet under the dock, and reveals a mass of white-grey-green barnacle/shellfish-stuff encrusting the wooden pilings. I need to catch up on my vocabulary to describe such things - I've just spent too much of my life far from the sea. I am nearly as surprised as Tidbit by the salty taste of the water.
Yesterday we worked. I pulled the tape off of so many boxes that the tips of my fingers ached and felt carpet burned. I also set up the home computer and everything, and it's all running very well now! The house begins to feel a bit like a home. Our furniture is all here and some rooms, such as the Master Bedroom, are even respectably nice. Both bathrooms and the kitchen, however, are still miserable - probably will be until we make some fundamental changes to the house. But ah well. The big piles of book boxes from my room and the office are gone, as are most of the random boxes in the family/dining room and my parents' closet.
Last night while we were trying to set up the home gym, the weight machine fell over on me. It only fell about forty five degrees, and while it hurt, I knew right away I wasn't seriously injured. Took a while to convince my parents of that, though, and they ran over and started patting me everywhere and asking what hurt. I was more worried about my laptop, which was also involved in the accident - it has a good scratch in the screen, almost penetrating. But it doesn't affect how it works at all, so I'm grateful for that.
Immediately following this incident Teddy and Maxine arrived. They are, or Teddy is, if you want to be specific, our only blood relatives in Florida. Teddy is my grandmother's brother, and Maxine is his wife. We visited them in Florida once growing up, and of course we've seen them at numerous family functions across the States (okay, so overwhelmingly in Missouri), so they are a slice of home, family, normality, if those can be associated.
They are very Floridian. Maxine is from Tennessee and speaks and cooks with a decidedly southern style. I volunteered to help her cook for Thanksgiving, as we'll be spending this Thanksgiving with them, and I've heard she makes cornbread stuffing and sometimes deep-fries the turkey. Teddy has such a strong something accent that he can be difficult to understand at times. He is bald and almost a caricature of himself, but very nice, underneath the bravado ;), and a 'hoot', as my mom puts it. He goes freshwater fishing on a fast motorboat in gator infested, inland waters.
We went out with them to a restaurant in John's Pass called Gators. I had this massive appetite, I dunno where from. I helped with the peel and eat shrimp and gator appetizers, and then ate every bite of my blackened Mahi Mahi with yellow rice, and then got a dessert - Key Lime Pie - to split with my sister. It was all good, especially the Key Lime Pie. What's very strange is that I never, ever order dessert - I'm usually so full that I bring half my entree home and still feel abused. And afterward I was contented, but not so full as I usually am - I could have helped out with another few desserts, or another round of appetizers, had there been more to come!
The sunset was unbearably lovely. Pictures later, I'm planning to post a few from the move.
My 'room' consists of a bookshelf filled with books, two crates with clothes, one crate of debris, one crate labeled sentimental, an alarm clock, and an air bed, all in the home gym. It's cozy. No, really. Well, there's nowhere to sit down on, or anything to eat. (/tolkienfandom) Tidbit and I slept there last night and it worked out pretty well. This house is wired really poorly, and all the light switches and knobs are on the outsides of the rooms they belong to, meaning that I have to decide whether I want my light on or off /before/ I go into my room and shut the door. Luckily my closet has it's own light, and a pretty nice one, which I have been reading by.
Today I woke up when Tidbit wanted to go outside. It was about half an hour earlier than I would have liked. She went out and hunted for geckos and I got out Liebe Total and read about five pages, underlining, but not looking up, the words I didn't know. I can never decide whether it is better to read, ignoring or figuring out from context the words I don't know, or go through making a notice of them, maybe looking them up if I have the computer handy, and that's it, or to go through and study every new word. It's hard to say, so I sort of play it by ear each day. Liebe Total is pretty easy, and from the subject matter I think it's written for teenagers, which would explain that. German prose, such as in a newspaper, can be very difficult - making it one of the few languages that I'm almost as confident listening in as reading it! But Liebe Total (actually, Immer Cool Bleiben, the first novel of two in the book) is very reasonable.
Then we did a bit more work, and then I went to the grocery store, Winn Dixie. At first I worried because they didn't seem to have anything I sought. Organic 1% milk, for example. I found the ordinary milk, a small enough section, and beside it saw several organic varieties. There were three kinds each of organic whole, and skim milk, and two kinds of organic 2%, and one kind of organic 1% chocolate milk! Finally I asked someone and it turns out they keep it in a different area of the store. ?? Similar thing happened with the feta cheese, all the flavoured and low fat kinds are at one end, and the ordinary varieties at the other.
I've been attempting to cook with the new kitchen and sometimes it has me pining for my 'kitchen' in the dorm. The drawers don't pull out well, the stove and oven are old and hardly trustworthy, we have no microwave, etc... but we brought the knives and pans, etc, from home, and they are quite nice. :D I can cut through onion and garlic like butter! Right now the smell of Greek chicken and jasmine rice are permeating the room.
My main complaint here is the sun. It takes me down. I was sensitive enough to the heat in St. Louis, but I dunno... here it's a drier heat, which most people prefer, but not me, for some reason. A wet heat exhausts, sure, and may even feel hotter in the mouth and nose, but this dry heat makes my skin burn and itch. Or maybe it's that the sun's rays are so much stronger closer to the equator? It's thoroughly unpleasant and I can't even describe it in a way that does it justice. I realize suddenly that before this I never really went to Florida in summer, usually in Winter, and found it balmy enough then! I'm just not built to survive this climate, or this latitude, or somethign!
The dock is very different from the one we have at Lake of the Ozarks - it's on piles, instead of floating, so it doesn't go up and down with the tides, and doesn't rock in the wake of boats or dolphins. When the tide is low it's several feet under the dock, and reveals a mass of white-grey-green barnacle/shellfish-stuff encrusting the wooden pilings. I need to catch up on my vocabulary to describe such things - I've just spent too much of my life far from the sea. I am nearly as surprised as Tidbit by the salty taste of the water.
Yesterday we worked. I pulled the tape off of so many boxes that the tips of my fingers ached and felt carpet burned. I also set up the home computer and everything, and it's all running very well now! The house begins to feel a bit like a home. Our furniture is all here and some rooms, such as the Master Bedroom, are even respectably nice. Both bathrooms and the kitchen, however, are still miserable - probably will be until we make some fundamental changes to the house. But ah well. The big piles of book boxes from my room and the office are gone, as are most of the random boxes in the family/dining room and my parents' closet.
Last night while we were trying to set up the home gym, the weight machine fell over on me. It only fell about forty five degrees, and while it hurt, I knew right away I wasn't seriously injured. Took a while to convince my parents of that, though, and they ran over and started patting me everywhere and asking what hurt. I was more worried about my laptop, which was also involved in the accident - it has a good scratch in the screen, almost penetrating. But it doesn't affect how it works at all, so I'm grateful for that.
Immediately following this incident Teddy and Maxine arrived. They are, or Teddy is, if you want to be specific, our only blood relatives in Florida. Teddy is my grandmother's brother, and Maxine is his wife. We visited them in Florida once growing up, and of course we've seen them at numerous family functions across the States (okay, so overwhelmingly in Missouri), so they are a slice of home, family, normality, if those can be associated.
They are very Floridian. Maxine is from Tennessee and speaks and cooks with a decidedly southern style. I volunteered to help her cook for Thanksgiving, as we'll be spending this Thanksgiving with them, and I've heard she makes cornbread stuffing and sometimes deep-fries the turkey. Teddy has such a strong something accent that he can be difficult to understand at times. He is bald and almost a caricature of himself, but very nice, underneath the bravado ;), and a 'hoot', as my mom puts it. He goes freshwater fishing on a fast motorboat in gator infested, inland waters.
We went out with them to a restaurant in John's Pass called Gators. I had this massive appetite, I dunno where from. I helped with the peel and eat shrimp and gator appetizers, and then ate every bite of my blackened Mahi Mahi with yellow rice, and then got a dessert - Key Lime Pie - to split with my sister. It was all good, especially the Key Lime Pie. What's very strange is that I never, ever order dessert - I'm usually so full that I bring half my entree home and still feel abused. And afterward I was contented, but not so full as I usually am - I could have helped out with another few desserts, or another round of appetizers, had there been more to come!
The sunset was unbearably lovely. Pictures later, I'm planning to post a few from the move.
My 'room' consists of a bookshelf filled with books, two crates with clothes, one crate of debris, one crate labeled sentimental, an alarm clock, and an air bed, all in the home gym. It's cozy. No, really. Well, there's nowhere to sit down on, or anything to eat. (/tolkienfandom) Tidbit and I slept there last night and it worked out pretty well. This house is wired really poorly, and all the light switches and knobs are on the outsides of the rooms they belong to, meaning that I have to decide whether I want my light on or off /before/ I go into my room and shut the door. Luckily my closet has it's own light, and a pretty nice one, which I have been reading by.
Today I woke up when Tidbit wanted to go outside. It was about half an hour earlier than I would have liked. She went out and hunted for geckos and I got out Liebe Total and read about five pages, underlining, but not looking up, the words I didn't know. I can never decide whether it is better to read, ignoring or figuring out from context the words I don't know, or go through making a notice of them, maybe looking them up if I have the computer handy, and that's it, or to go through and study every new word. It's hard to say, so I sort of play it by ear each day. Liebe Total is pretty easy, and from the subject matter I think it's written for teenagers, which would explain that. German prose, such as in a newspaper, can be very difficult - making it one of the few languages that I'm almost as confident listening in as reading it! But Liebe Total (actually, Immer Cool Bleiben, the first novel of two in the book) is very reasonable.
Then we did a bit more work, and then I went to the grocery store, Winn Dixie. At first I worried because they didn't seem to have anything I sought. Organic 1% milk, for example. I found the ordinary milk, a small enough section, and beside it saw several organic varieties. There were three kinds each of organic whole, and skim milk, and two kinds of organic 2%, and one kind of organic 1% chocolate milk! Finally I asked someone and it turns out they keep it in a different area of the store. ?? Similar thing happened with the feta cheese, all the flavoured and low fat kinds are at one end, and the ordinary varieties at the other.
I've been attempting to cook with the new kitchen and sometimes it has me pining for my 'kitchen' in the dorm. The drawers don't pull out well, the stove and oven are old and hardly trustworthy, we have no microwave, etc... but we brought the knives and pans, etc, from home, and they are quite nice. :D I can cut through onion and garlic like butter! Right now the smell of Greek chicken and jasmine rice are permeating the room.
My main complaint here is the sun. It takes me down. I was sensitive enough to the heat in St. Louis, but I dunno... here it's a drier heat, which most people prefer, but not me, for some reason. A wet heat exhausts, sure, and may even feel hotter in the mouth and nose, but this dry heat makes my skin burn and itch. Or maybe it's that the sun's rays are so much stronger closer to the equator? It's thoroughly unpleasant and I can't even describe it in a way that does it justice. I realize suddenly that before this I never really went to Florida in summer, usually in Winter, and found it balmy enough then! I'm just not built to survive this climate, or this latitude, or somethign!
Blogging
On Facebook today Koko tagged me in a picture she had taken, with her host family here in America, of some Cream Cheese Clouds she had made from my recipe! :D So proud! Anyway, it made the 999th picture I have been tagged in on Facebook, mostly thanks to the 100 or so Stephanie put up the other day. :P And I just realized that I'm only ten away (counting this one) from having 999 posts in this blog!
That's the product of both a relatively high number of average posts per month, and a lot of months! I think I have been getting a bit better, more regular, etc, at blogging since I decided to go into Journalism. It's practice, in a way.
This blog is still pretty random and all over the place, however. Technically I have four blogs:
I Naur Celedril (Main Blog)
The Gourmet Chef (Cooking in a Dorm Room Blog)
Life in the Faroes (w/ Uni, about the Faroe Islands)
Tree and Root (Writing Blog, Inactive)
The Gourmet Chef will be active again once school is back in session. Life in the Faroes I just help with, and Tree and Root is inactive for now, since I hardly write anything! However, I think I'm going to make another blog (that's right, a fifth blog) about travelling. It will not be connected to my current blogger account, although I may continue to use blogger, because I'm rather fond ot it! It will be much more focused than this one, and be mostly journal style entrees about my travels, with pictures. I'll post a link here when I get it up and running.
That's the product of both a relatively high number of average posts per month, and a lot of months! I think I have been getting a bit better, more regular, etc, at blogging since I decided to go into Journalism. It's practice, in a way.
This blog is still pretty random and all over the place, however. Technically I have four blogs:
I Naur Celedril (Main Blog)
The Gourmet Chef (Cooking in a Dorm Room Blog)
Life in the Faroes (w/ Uni, about the Faroe Islands)
Tree and Root (Writing Blog, Inactive)
The Gourmet Chef will be active again once school is back in session. Life in the Faroes I just help with, and Tree and Root is inactive for now, since I hardly write anything! However, I think I'm going to make another blog (that's right, a fifth blog) about travelling. It will not be connected to my current blogger account, although I may continue to use blogger, because I'm rather fond ot it! It will be much more focused than this one, and be mostly journal style entrees about my travels, with pictures. I'll post a link here when I get it up and running.
Question Time with Miranda
Uni and I have decided to start a new feature on Life in the Faroes (Uni's blog, which I help him with). It is called Question Time with Miranda, and it is a series of interviews between the two of us, where I pretend to not know anything about the Faroes and he pretends to know everything (thanks, Wikipedia!). We are going to start off really basic, like I will think the Faroe Islands are in Egypt, and work our way up to more specific topics such as houses in the Faroe Islands, or traditional music, or whatever, really.
You can see the first one here:
http://roskur.blogspot.com/2009/06/question-time-with-miranda-issue-one.html
Right now we are working on making an icon for the feature, and on the translation to Faroese.
You can see the first one here:
http://roskur.blogspot.com/2009/06/question-time-with-miranda-issue-one.html
Right now we are working on making an icon for the feature, and on the translation to Faroese.
June 12, 2009
The Education of the Swedes
Hei alle sammen!
Jeg håper at dere liker dere her i Florida! For en søt familie dere er! :)
Jeg tenkte bare at dere ville kanskje vite at her tar vi av bordet etter frokost.
Ha det kjempefint!
It didn't take us long to notice the Swedes. When you stay in a hotel for more than a week, and particularly when you attend the breakfast every morning, you begin to become acquainted in a distant, 'stalkerish' way with several of the more interesting families who are following the same patterns.
The most interesting, most obvious family this week has been a family of Swedes. Loud father, quiet mother, two singing blonde children with bright blue eyes. They dominate the room with their loudness, their foreignness, the singsong quality of their speech... the way they never clear their table after they eat, leaving the busboys, who are only supposed to replenish food and empty trash cans, a mountain of china and rubbish.
So I played a little trick, or taught them a little something, or did the busboys a bit of a favour, depending on how you want to look at it. I wrote them a note, last night, and stuck it under their door. You can see the note in it's original above - the translation would be,
Hello everyone!
I hope you like it here in Florida! What a sweet/cute family you are!
I just thought you might want to know that here we clear the table after breakfast.
Have a great time!
This morning, inconspicuous as always, we watched. And if they didn't clear the table, every bit, admirably so! We were a safe distance off, but could hardly contain our giggles as mamma and pappa walked to the trash cans again and again with the piles of dishes.
Jeg håper at dere liker dere her i Florida! For en søt familie dere er! :)
Jeg tenkte bare at dere ville kanskje vite at her tar vi av bordet etter frokost.
Ha det kjempefint!
It didn't take us long to notice the Swedes. When you stay in a hotel for more than a week, and particularly when you attend the breakfast every morning, you begin to become acquainted in a distant, 'stalkerish' way with several of the more interesting families who are following the same patterns.
The most interesting, most obvious family this week has been a family of Swedes. Loud father, quiet mother, two singing blonde children with bright blue eyes. They dominate the room with their loudness, their foreignness, the singsong quality of their speech... the way they never clear their table after they eat, leaving the busboys, who are only supposed to replenish food and empty trash cans, a mountain of china and rubbish.
So I played a little trick, or taught them a little something, or did the busboys a bit of a favour, depending on how you want to look at it. I wrote them a note, last night, and stuck it under their door. You can see the note in it's original above - the translation would be,
Hello everyone!
I hope you like it here in Florida! What a sweet/cute family you are!
I just thought you might want to know that here we clear the table after breakfast.
Have a great time!
This morning, inconspicuous as always, we watched. And if they didn't clear the table, every bit, admirably so! We were a safe distance off, but could hardly contain our giggles as mamma and pappa walked to the trash cans again and again with the piles of dishes.
June 10, 2009
Moving, Touching, Romantic Chapterbook
The other day I went to the little bookstore near our Winn Dixie and found a book in Finnish! I bought it on the spot, hardly caring what it was about. Well, I've started in on it. It's slow going because I need to look up many words, and with Finnish you don't just 'look up a word' as you can in Spanish... it often takes a bit of time to deconstruct the word into various smaller words, or at least separate the ending, sometimes reconstruct the altered original stem, etc. But ah, the feeling when it goes well, and you have an actual sentence in front of you!
Right. So, how much have I read?
Erm... the front and back cover? XD I've only had a bit of time after breakfast! I'll summarize, but please don't get mad for bad translations. XD
The Title is: Tyttö ja kartanonherra
My Translation: The girl and the lord of the estate
The author is Catherine Cookson. I was pretty sure the book was translated, which is a bit sad but oh well. I checked the publication page and it says, Englanninkielen alkuteos The Dwelling Place ilmestyi 1971 Suomentanut Eva Siikarla. Right, definitely translated, and older, too.
I started in on the back cover.
Cissie Brodin, köyhän maatyöläisen kymmenpäisen sisaruparven vanhin, menettää molemmat vanhempansa. Cissie päättää pitää perheen koossa hinnalla millä hyvänsä. Hän sijoittaa pesueensa nummelle kallioluolaan ja aloittaa taistelun jokapäiväisestä leivästä. Juuri kun elämä alkaa sujua, mahtavan aateliskartanon nuoriherra raiskaa Cissien - ja pian tyttö huomaa odottavansa lasta.
Cissie Brodin, the oldest of ten siblings in a poor serf family, loses both parents. Cissie decides to keep the family together at whatever cost. She relocates the brood to a craggy den on the moors and begins the full time struggle to eat (lit. for bread). Just when life begins to flow(?), the lord of a great noble estate rapes Cissie - and soon the girl discovers that she is pregnant.
Notes:
1.) I love Finnish. Some words are just so beautiful! Like sujua for flow, luola for cave. And raiskaa is dreadful and perfect. Then again, where does it get words like tyttö for girl? :S
2.) Nummi = Moors.... seriously? I haven't read a book set on the moors since Secret Garden, and now suddenly I'm reading both this and Wuthering Heights. :S
3.) The little grab line is: Koskettava, romanttinen lukuromaani! This seems to mean "Moving (or touching), romantic chapter-novel!"
Somehow, with the subject matter, I don't think this is a children's book, but the grab line is trying to convince me otherwise. XD
Right. So, how much have I read?
Erm... the front and back cover? XD I've only had a bit of time after breakfast! I'll summarize, but please don't get mad for bad translations. XD
The Title is: Tyttö ja kartanonherra
My Translation: The girl and the lord of the estate
The author is Catherine Cookson. I was pretty sure the book was translated, which is a bit sad but oh well. I checked the publication page and it says, Englanninkielen alkuteos The Dwelling Place ilmestyi 1971 Suomentanut Eva Siikarla. Right, definitely translated, and older, too.
I started in on the back cover.
Cissie Brodin, köyhän maatyöläisen kymmenpäisen sisaruparven vanhin, menettää molemmat vanhempansa. Cissie päättää pitää perheen koossa hinnalla millä hyvänsä. Hän sijoittaa pesueensa nummelle kallioluolaan ja aloittaa taistelun jokapäiväisestä leivästä. Juuri kun elämä alkaa sujua, mahtavan aateliskartanon nuoriherra raiskaa Cissien - ja pian tyttö huomaa odottavansa lasta.
Cissie Brodin, the oldest of ten siblings in a poor serf family, loses both parents. Cissie decides to keep the family together at whatever cost. She relocates the brood to a craggy den on the moors and begins the full time struggle to eat (lit. for bread). Just when life begins to flow(?), the lord of a great noble estate rapes Cissie - and soon the girl discovers that she is pregnant.
Notes:
1.) I love Finnish. Some words are just so beautiful! Like sujua for flow, luola for cave. And raiskaa is dreadful and perfect. Then again, where does it get words like tyttö for girl? :S
2.) Nummi = Moors.... seriously? I haven't read a book set on the moors since Secret Garden, and now suddenly I'm reading both this and Wuthering Heights. :S
3.) The little grab line is: Koskettava, romanttinen lukuromaani! This seems to mean "Moving (or touching), romantic chapter-novel!"
Somehow, with the subject matter, I don't think this is a children's book, but the grab line is trying to convince me otherwise. XD
June 08, 2009
Pirat Partiet
http://www.piratpartiet.se/international/english
I think this is fascinating. The party has some very controversial and radical ideas, but also, I think, a lot of good ideas. But just the fact that it won a reasonable amount of the vote... Impressive, I think.
I think this is fascinating. The party has some very controversial and radical ideas, but also, I think, a lot of good ideas. But just the fact that it won a reasonable amount of the vote... Impressive, I think.
Florida - First Impressions
We are staying at a beach hotel, overlooking the gentle surf of the Gulf of Mexico and listening to the sound of the gulls. Those who have lived their whole lives by the sea, I know, regard them as pests, but they are still something marvelous for us - part of a vacation. We are still vacationing, in a way, since we're staying in the hotel instead of our new home. It's a fixer upper. We knew that, but we didn't really understand it until we arrived. The yard is smaller than we thought, the colour schemes uglier, the kitchen thirty years old. We've decided we must gut the house, and not only eventually but soon. It was supposed to be clean when we got here, but instead the whole thing is filthy. My mom's losing it. Well, part of that is just what you get for putting something, anything, on a pedestal.
We got up early today for the movers, but both the car mover and the furniture movers have delayed until tomorrow, so the only reason for waiting was the cable hookup. The hours dragged by. Melissa and I took a short trip to Winn Dixie, the southern grocery store. It's the closest one to our new house, so we familiarized ourselves a bit. They were very nice and we got a loyalty card. Quite near Winn Dixie is a little used and new bookstore and a library - the only one on the island, I think. We have to go to the mainland for Wal-Mart but it looks as though most of our other basic needs can be taken care of here.
I snuck a quick visit to the little bookstore. They had all the major categories, although even the new books (what few there were) looked used. They have a rare book section. The signage is bad so it took me a while and a lucky angle to find the foreign language section, but I was in for a nice surprise there. They had a reasonable collection of Swedish and Norwegian instruction books, the Norwegian ones predictably and unfortunately below my level, and most of the moderately sized shelf was German. In this part of the world I would have expected something more like the Borders back home - two shelves of Spanish, a handful of books in French, and, if you are lucky, one or two in German or Italian. As I was scanning the shelves, aware that I needed to get back home, I found a book in Finnish. Imagine! I bought it right away, even though it's a romance of some sort and I probably won't like it. Finnish! And for 3$! I spoke to the lady and she says if I come back later this week she'll give/sell me a stack of Norwegian magazines that her Norwegian friend gave her. If I'm incredibly lucky, I figure there's even a chance I'll run into one of her Norwegian friends. Wouldn't that be marvellous?
Yesterday at Wal-Mart I picked up a three dollar copy of Wuthering Heights. I'm enjoying it so far - reading about the wild, rugged, dark moors from the comfort of our little wooden dock. My skin is starting to colour already, although I try to keep in the shade. It's not burnt yet, but already glowing, and I can't allow it to get a bit worse. I'll be the strange northern girl who hides her lily white skin inside with her books if I have to be. For the moment, though, I notice the tides coming in. We have tides! The water was a foot or two under the dock when I looked out this morning, and it's near noon now and there are little waves and the waters almost up to the bottom of the sea wall. I see glinting in the water - little silvery fish are darting to and fro.
I could live here - just relax, live simply. Not worry about the ages old dirt under the stove. Cook in my rice cooker, sit on the floor, even, if I didn't have any proper furniture. Amazing how far some snacks, a few good books, and a computer will take you. And the location, if I needed more than that! But that's my age speaking, I guess. Tidbit snoozes on the sunbaked wood at my feet. My mother hollers and I go in to see what's bothered her.
We see something strange. While trying to clean out the refrigerator shelf in the sink, it collapsed and broke - the glass shattered. Little fragments cover the counters and the basin of the sink, falling down into the disposal. A giant mess. But what's really odd is that the glass continues to crack, splinter, fall apart. For long minutes it continues to crackle - a fragment of glass, lying in the sink, suddenly develops a long hairline crack along the middle, and then snaps along that line with a sharp sound. The sink full of glass crackles and glistens.
Tidbit loves to hunt geckos. They are her new squirrels and she doesn't yet know whether or not they are possible to catch. She catches them sunning themselves on the walks and runs at them. They remain still until the last moment, and then dart away, quick as lightening, into the lattice or bushes or lime trees. One evening she goes at one with such vehemence that the force of her impact throws her onto her back. For a moment she looks like a ladybug flipped over, running her little feet ineffectually in the air.
I've enjoyed almost all the food I've had on the island, and I'm eager to explore all the nooks and crannies, the variety of restaurants. Besides all the marvellous seafood there is more Thai food than I've ever seen before, and there seem to be a thousand places selling fresh fruit. Other surprises - a mariachi band beside one of these fruit stands, in a sort of alley on the way to Wal Mart, singing and playing for all they were worth, and hardly anyone to listen... a European Grocery next to the post office - I went in, and was a bit disappointed to find mostly Slavic products which I couldn't read and had no special attachment to. I did buy Nutella and have gotten my sister hooked on the stuff.
I've ordered a library card. On Wednesday they have a writer's group. I think I'll attend, for the few weeks I'm here. I'm hoping it'll be a casual sort of thing I can pop into on breaks.
We got up early today for the movers, but both the car mover and the furniture movers have delayed until tomorrow, so the only reason for waiting was the cable hookup. The hours dragged by. Melissa and I took a short trip to Winn Dixie, the southern grocery store. It's the closest one to our new house, so we familiarized ourselves a bit. They were very nice and we got a loyalty card. Quite near Winn Dixie is a little used and new bookstore and a library - the only one on the island, I think. We have to go to the mainland for Wal-Mart but it looks as though most of our other basic needs can be taken care of here.
I snuck a quick visit to the little bookstore. They had all the major categories, although even the new books (what few there were) looked used. They have a rare book section. The signage is bad so it took me a while and a lucky angle to find the foreign language section, but I was in for a nice surprise there. They had a reasonable collection of Swedish and Norwegian instruction books, the Norwegian ones predictably and unfortunately below my level, and most of the moderately sized shelf was German. In this part of the world I would have expected something more like the Borders back home - two shelves of Spanish, a handful of books in French, and, if you are lucky, one or two in German or Italian. As I was scanning the shelves, aware that I needed to get back home, I found a book in Finnish. Imagine! I bought it right away, even though it's a romance of some sort and I probably won't like it. Finnish! And for 3$! I spoke to the lady and she says if I come back later this week she'll give/sell me a stack of Norwegian magazines that her Norwegian friend gave her. If I'm incredibly lucky, I figure there's even a chance I'll run into one of her Norwegian friends. Wouldn't that be marvellous?
Yesterday at Wal-Mart I picked up a three dollar copy of Wuthering Heights. I'm enjoying it so far - reading about the wild, rugged, dark moors from the comfort of our little wooden dock. My skin is starting to colour already, although I try to keep in the shade. It's not burnt yet, but already glowing, and I can't allow it to get a bit worse. I'll be the strange northern girl who hides her lily white skin inside with her books if I have to be. For the moment, though, I notice the tides coming in. We have tides! The water was a foot or two under the dock when I looked out this morning, and it's near noon now and there are little waves and the waters almost up to the bottom of the sea wall. I see glinting in the water - little silvery fish are darting to and fro.
I could live here - just relax, live simply. Not worry about the ages old dirt under the stove. Cook in my rice cooker, sit on the floor, even, if I didn't have any proper furniture. Amazing how far some snacks, a few good books, and a computer will take you. And the location, if I needed more than that! But that's my age speaking, I guess. Tidbit snoozes on the sunbaked wood at my feet. My mother hollers and I go in to see what's bothered her.
We see something strange. While trying to clean out the refrigerator shelf in the sink, it collapsed and broke - the glass shattered. Little fragments cover the counters and the basin of the sink, falling down into the disposal. A giant mess. But what's really odd is that the glass continues to crack, splinter, fall apart. For long minutes it continues to crackle - a fragment of glass, lying in the sink, suddenly develops a long hairline crack along the middle, and then snaps along that line with a sharp sound. The sink full of glass crackles and glistens.
Tidbit loves to hunt geckos. They are her new squirrels and she doesn't yet know whether or not they are possible to catch. She catches them sunning themselves on the walks and runs at them. They remain still until the last moment, and then dart away, quick as lightening, into the lattice or bushes or lime trees. One evening she goes at one with such vehemence that the force of her impact throws her onto her back. For a moment she looks like a ladybug flipped over, running her little feet ineffectually in the air.
I've enjoyed almost all the food I've had on the island, and I'm eager to explore all the nooks and crannies, the variety of restaurants. Besides all the marvellous seafood there is more Thai food than I've ever seen before, and there seem to be a thousand places selling fresh fruit. Other surprises - a mariachi band beside one of these fruit stands, in a sort of alley on the way to Wal Mart, singing and playing for all they were worth, and hardly anyone to listen... a European Grocery next to the post office - I went in, and was a bit disappointed to find mostly Slavic products which I couldn't read and had no special attachment to. I did buy Nutella and have gotten my sister hooked on the stuff.
I've ordered a library card. On Wednesday they have a writer's group. I think I'll attend, for the few weeks I'm here. I'm hoping it'll be a casual sort of thing I can pop into on breaks.
May 31, 2009
Reading
Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.
- Mark Twain
For me this is one of those quotes that hits me every time I read it - it just seems to fit so well with how I see the world. Right now I'm applying it towards reading, serious reading, and all those English class accompaniments to serious reading. I mean I've been annotating, without being obliged to annotate.
I've always read a bit, for pleasure. In Elementary School I actually read quite a bit, but I was in Elementary School after all, and a bit confused about what I should read. The school's recommendations were beneath me - I needed big words and small print to be satisfied - and yet I couldn't branch into the world of adult reading thanks to foul language, mature content, and themes beyond my youthful understanding. My dad tried his best to help me, feeding me carefully selected novels from his collection of fantasy and science fiction. I devoured a lot of trash, and even a few classics, such as the Lord of the Rings and Ender's Game, but I never thought a bit about them.
But who wants to be told that there is something above their understanding? What child understands 'patience, you aren't ready, it won't mean what it should to you'? I have always felt fully capable, in possession of all my faculties, awake. And yet, looking back, I was in a mist. I read things and maybe understood the words but none of the meaning.
In Middle School I read what I wanted, and I read voraciously. Still, the depths of meaning inside of many of my books eluded me. By High School I was beginning to understand, but at the same time I found myself losing my taste for fiction. It seemed more useful to read nonfiction, to devour delicious facts and figures instead of adding more soul-searching, brain-twisting classic fiction to the top of my school pile.
Yes, I read for school. And I made fun of taking notes and such because I was obliged to do it. Emerging from high school I rejoiced! English class was over! It didn't bring the same sort of deep seated relief as being done with Math class brought, but the annotation and test routine had grown old. For a year, I read nothing of any real literary merit.
A stack of nonfiction. My textbooks. Colloquial Japanese, Teach Yourself Finnish, a Guide to Faroese. A handful of memoirs, which were nice enough. Mio Min Mio. Brødrene Løvehjerte. Animal Dreams.
And that was it.
And then I came home with just a few books, knowing my mind needed rest but not recognizing the growing hunger in my soul. I began to read, and read... and I found myself responding to the books in a thousand different ways. Then it happened. A dramatic shift, occurring almost unnoticed - I began to annotate.
Changes
I cut my hair. I love long hair but I cut mine. I wanted to be beautiful, mysterious, Elven, something like that. But wearing my hair long didn't change the rest of me into someone long hair looks good on. It's time to get real. And while I'm at it, make some compromises. There is a time for choosing between two extremes, and a time for making a middle road, and I am not an archetype, but rather my own only shot at happiness.
My hair is much shorter now. The ends are soft and renewed. The cut frames my face and brings light to my smile, adds an inch to my height. Alone after a bath, I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. I feel sexy, powerful. Does that seem strange? It does to me.
But listen, it's time to get real. I paint and powder my face, run a black pencil underneath my eyes. Not a lot. I'm getting better at shopping, too. I wear a cute top and a little skirt. Maybe even heels. I look, I feel like a little doll. It's not entirely positive. I prefer the natural light and my own living skin, and anyway we short people don't feel nearly as short without all these things made for ordinary people - clothes, for example.
You know, when I am by myself, I feel normal. The only natural size. I hug my knees to my chest and feel warm and whole and complete. I can't imagine another foot, even another inch, just as you probably can't imagine a third leg or wings shooting from your back. Dressing up in the little skirts I feel consigned to a role, presented, a curiosity, cute as a botton, a little doll. I blame no one, and everyone, for this. I'm frightened, conflicted.
I have always rebelled, either with apathy for the process or by rejecting reality. It's not fair. It's superficial, all surface. It's reality. It does no good to pretend. Sometimes we play roles.
They called me brave last summer. Rohkea. But that sort of bravery is my element. The trip was pure self indulgence. This summer it is different. I am going beyond my comfort zone. Not only that, but I am going to try to bend with it. I am more than a little bit frightened. In the midst of profound changes, I am venturing into a culture that is the opposite of my old self. The culture of Tatemae and Honne.
Am I over-thinking, seeing faces in the branches of trees? Does it seem to no one else that things were meant to fall this way? I am more than a little bit frightened. It's time to get real, learn a lesson all the others learned long ago - to wear a mask without losing myself.
My hair is much shorter now. The ends are soft and renewed. The cut frames my face and brings light to my smile, adds an inch to my height. Alone after a bath, I hardly recognize myself in the mirror. I feel sexy, powerful. Does that seem strange? It does to me.
But listen, it's time to get real. I paint and powder my face, run a black pencil underneath my eyes. Not a lot. I'm getting better at shopping, too. I wear a cute top and a little skirt. Maybe even heels. I look, I feel like a little doll. It's not entirely positive. I prefer the natural light and my own living skin, and anyway we short people don't feel nearly as short without all these things made for ordinary people - clothes, for example.
You know, when I am by myself, I feel normal. The only natural size. I hug my knees to my chest and feel warm and whole and complete. I can't imagine another foot, even another inch, just as you probably can't imagine a third leg or wings shooting from your back. Dressing up in the little skirts I feel consigned to a role, presented, a curiosity, cute as a botton, a little doll. I blame no one, and everyone, for this. I'm frightened, conflicted.
I have always rebelled, either with apathy for the process or by rejecting reality. It's not fair. It's superficial, all surface. It's reality. It does no good to pretend. Sometimes we play roles.
They called me brave last summer. Rohkea. But that sort of bravery is my element. The trip was pure self indulgence. This summer it is different. I am going beyond my comfort zone. Not only that, but I am going to try to bend with it. I am more than a little bit frightened. In the midst of profound changes, I am venturing into a culture that is the opposite of my old self. The culture of Tatemae and Honne.
Am I over-thinking, seeing faces in the branches of trees? Does it seem to no one else that things were meant to fall this way? I am more than a little bit frightened. It's time to get real, learn a lesson all the others learned long ago - to wear a mask without losing myself.
Duck Drama
We see a lot of ducks in the neighborhood these days - both mallards and the brown females. They waddle around in the street, seem oblivious to cars until the last moment, fight and sometimes fly, huddle close to the tiny pools of water created by imperfect drainage systems. And one little brown duck decided to nest right outside of our laundry room door, in a little bit of green. I'm sure she thought she had her back against the wall, and she really was well nestled in, but when we opened the door we scared her and then she scared us as she bolted in a burst of feathers and wingbeats. From a safe distance, we peered in at her nest. Almost a dozen long white eggs, chicken-like and yet different, lay inside.
She came back not long afterwards, but we messed up and walked past again, and again she bolted. This time she was gone for a long time. Night fell, a storm rose. We thought for sure that she had abandoned the nest. I wondered how much a duck can feel, how complex and how deep it's emotions. Imagine waiting until the last minute to leave the nest, then flying away, frightened... not knowing what is taking place behind you, in the nest you thought you had hidden well. Do you dare to return, not knowing what you will find? Were your eggs taken, eaten, crushed? Did the enemy still lay in wait? Then perhaps she was caught in the storm. Did she think of her nest? Did she fear? Did she worry?
She was back the next day, and we were ready for her. We put post it notes on the door leading to the nest, requesting that it not be disturbed. "Do Not Use: Ducks!" one read. And the other: "Favor de no usar esta puerta. Hay Patos!" Every once in a while we peered at her through the blinds. She was cautious, watchful, moved at the slightest sound. The day after that she was gone for a while and we saw one broken egg on the sidewalk.
We left that afternoon and didn't see her before we leave. We came home to find the nest full of egg fragments. My dad says they hatched. I wish I could believe that.
Either way, that's the end.
She came back not long afterwards, but we messed up and walked past again, and again she bolted. This time she was gone for a long time. Night fell, a storm rose. We thought for sure that she had abandoned the nest. I wondered how much a duck can feel, how complex and how deep it's emotions. Imagine waiting until the last minute to leave the nest, then flying away, frightened... not knowing what is taking place behind you, in the nest you thought you had hidden well. Do you dare to return, not knowing what you will find? Were your eggs taken, eaten, crushed? Did the enemy still lay in wait? Then perhaps she was caught in the storm. Did she think of her nest? Did she fear? Did she worry?
She was back the next day, and we were ready for her. We put post it notes on the door leading to the nest, requesting that it not be disturbed. "Do Not Use: Ducks!" one read. And the other: "Favor de no usar esta puerta. Hay Patos!" Every once in a while we peered at her through the blinds. She was cautious, watchful, moved at the slightest sound. The day after that she was gone for a while and we saw one broken egg on the sidewalk.
We left that afternoon and didn't see her before we leave. We came home to find the nest full of egg fragments. My dad says they hatched. I wish I could believe that.
Either way, that's the end.
May 26, 2009
Business and Bad Omens
Every day from now to the move is full of appointments. Today I have to see the dermatologist, then go off to school for attempt #2 at a surprise attack, then pedicure, then haircut, then babysitting.
I'm not sure I'll even try to do anything for Japan until I'm in Florida. It's just too hectic here. That said, I'm calling Laura on Sunday to ask her what she's done, and I'll probably go ahead and order my rail pass. I think I'll send everything to her house because it's more permanent, and just in case things get lost in the mail or whatever we're there until the end, so we have the most chance of receiving it.
The days leading up to the move have seen some bad omens:
Bees in the Birdnest:
We tried to take down the birdhouse for Mrs. Maniscalco, because she said she wanted it. I walked across the mulch barefoot towards it, looked down to see no fewer than three spiders, none of them poisonous. I swallowed and kept walking until I had my hands around the long wooden stem of the birdhouse. I heard a fantastic hissing noise and quickly backed up, not knowing whether I had hallucinated or what. My sister tried next and heard the same thing. Bees! She said. And, sure enough, a bee flew out of the hole. My dad went out next and grabbed it, running upstairs with it. We thought there was just the one bee, and eventually it flew off. Then suddenly a whole swarm flew out. My dad finally had to powerwash the inside of the birdhouse with the hose, and afterwards kill up to 20 bees by stomping on them. A bit sad, really, but what could we do? The honeycomb itself, with the honey in it, came out too.
Yesterday I went to that spot and found scores of homeless bees, wandering aimlessly or else sucking the honey from their squashed honeycomb, pieces scattered amoung the dead and blackening bodies of the rest of their family.
The Dead Snake:
In our front yard we have some bricks that line the garden. A snake managed to wedge itself between two of these, and we can only assume that it became stuck there and so died. It was a green-grey snake, and a reasonably sized on. We went over to see it and found that it had been dead a long time. It split open at the gentle poking of a stick, and it was crawling with maggots from tail up.
I'm not sure I'll even try to do anything for Japan until I'm in Florida. It's just too hectic here. That said, I'm calling Laura on Sunday to ask her what she's done, and I'll probably go ahead and order my rail pass. I think I'll send everything to her house because it's more permanent, and just in case things get lost in the mail or whatever we're there until the end, so we have the most chance of receiving it.
The days leading up to the move have seen some bad omens:
Bees in the Birdnest:
We tried to take down the birdhouse for Mrs. Maniscalco, because she said she wanted it. I walked across the mulch barefoot towards it, looked down to see no fewer than three spiders, none of them poisonous. I swallowed and kept walking until I had my hands around the long wooden stem of the birdhouse. I heard a fantastic hissing noise and quickly backed up, not knowing whether I had hallucinated or what. My sister tried next and heard the same thing. Bees! She said. And, sure enough, a bee flew out of the hole. My dad went out next and grabbed it, running upstairs with it. We thought there was just the one bee, and eventually it flew off. Then suddenly a whole swarm flew out. My dad finally had to powerwash the inside of the birdhouse with the hose, and afterwards kill up to 20 bees by stomping on them. A bit sad, really, but what could we do? The honeycomb itself, with the honey in it, came out too.
Yesterday I went to that spot and found scores of homeless bees, wandering aimlessly or else sucking the honey from their squashed honeycomb, pieces scattered amoung the dead and blackening bodies of the rest of their family.
The Dead Snake:
In our front yard we have some bricks that line the garden. A snake managed to wedge itself between two of these, and we can only assume that it became stuck there and so died. It was a green-grey snake, and a reasonably sized on. We went over to see it and found that it had been dead a long time. It split open at the gentle poking of a stick, and it was crawling with maggots from tail up.
May 25, 2009
May 23, 2009
Burgundy
Burgundy.
In these last few days that is what I have begun to call it, as if it is some grand estate with a name that flutters in the mouth, a dream, a memory of youth.
But it does seem to grow, as the day we shall leave it approaches.
The front lawn is familiar and modest, but green up to the terraces, with are lined with fiery red volcanic stone and full of pine bushes and coreopsis. On the walk to the driveway, one thing or another is in flower any time of year, accompanied by the buzzing and swarming of bees.
Upstairs, along with the lesser office and the bedrooms and bathroom belonging to my sister and me, there is my parents large room, with the walk in closet and the magnificent bath - all large and grey with big glass blocks letting light stream in, and a view of the little valley.
On the main floor there is the foyer, with shiny black marble floor. Then my dad's office with it's large mahogany desk and bookshelves and soundproof doors, the dining room with the table passed down from my great great aunt, the family room with the well loved red-brick fireplace and the silver moon set on the hearth - our marble topped hutch, antique cabinet, elegant wheat coloured sofas - the giant television that dominates a full corner of the room. The eating area that overlooks the yard through three giant windows - the kitchen itself, with dark marble countertops swirling with green and flecked with gold when the light hits them, the skylight through which one can see clouds rushing past, or the tops of the pine trees that stand in the yard.
The basement is filled by the warm little den, with the oldest furniture, the billiards room, the guest suite, the workout room, the music center... and it leads out onto the back porch,, covered a dry, with the jacuzzi, the party lights, the bar, the white swing, the table. The pool deck is beyond, with the water glowing with it's gentle blue in spring and summer and fall. The hill falls steeply beyond that, and is covered with ivy. And above, winding towards the top of the house, are the gardens - the bench, the birdhouse and bath, the periwinkle, the pines, the bradford pears which have such lovely white flowers in early spring, the screen porch with the hammock, and the deck, above all, where we set off fireworks on the fourth.
And it is, all of it, filled with the ghosts of eleven years. Not just any eleven years, either - eleven years that took me from an odd eight year old to my nineteen year old self. I can almost hear the clicking of two dachshund's nails as they run across the foyer and leap into the family room to wrestle, see the Barbie Hogwarts set up under the pool table, smell barbecue, roast, and stew cooking in the kitchen, feel the emotion of the countless dramas I've partaken in on the home computer, taste the salt of sweat and tears in my own bedroom.
But a house is just a house.
... Goodbye
In these last few days that is what I have begun to call it, as if it is some grand estate with a name that flutters in the mouth, a dream, a memory of youth.
But it does seem to grow, as the day we shall leave it approaches.
The front lawn is familiar and modest, but green up to the terraces, with are lined with fiery red volcanic stone and full of pine bushes and coreopsis. On the walk to the driveway, one thing or another is in flower any time of year, accompanied by the buzzing and swarming of bees.
Upstairs, along with the lesser office and the bedrooms and bathroom belonging to my sister and me, there is my parents large room, with the walk in closet and the magnificent bath - all large and grey with big glass blocks letting light stream in, and a view of the little valley.
On the main floor there is the foyer, with shiny black marble floor. Then my dad's office with it's large mahogany desk and bookshelves and soundproof doors, the dining room with the table passed down from my great great aunt, the family room with the well loved red-brick fireplace and the silver moon set on the hearth - our marble topped hutch, antique cabinet, elegant wheat coloured sofas - the giant television that dominates a full corner of the room. The eating area that overlooks the yard through three giant windows - the kitchen itself, with dark marble countertops swirling with green and flecked with gold when the light hits them, the skylight through which one can see clouds rushing past, or the tops of the pine trees that stand in the yard.
The basement is filled by the warm little den, with the oldest furniture, the billiards room, the guest suite, the workout room, the music center... and it leads out onto the back porch,, covered a dry, with the jacuzzi, the party lights, the bar, the white swing, the table. The pool deck is beyond, with the water glowing with it's gentle blue in spring and summer and fall. The hill falls steeply beyond that, and is covered with ivy. And above, winding towards the top of the house, are the gardens - the bench, the birdhouse and bath, the periwinkle, the pines, the bradford pears which have such lovely white flowers in early spring, the screen porch with the hammock, and the deck, above all, where we set off fireworks on the fourth.
And it is, all of it, filled with the ghosts of eleven years. Not just any eleven years, either - eleven years that took me from an odd eight year old to my nineteen year old self. I can almost hear the clicking of two dachshund's nails as they run across the foyer and leap into the family room to wrestle, see the Barbie Hogwarts set up under the pool table, smell barbecue, roast, and stew cooking in the kitchen, feel the emotion of the countless dramas I've partaken in on the home computer, taste the salt of sweat and tears in my own bedroom.
But a house is just a house.
... Goodbye
Overpowering Heat
"The heat had become overpowering... Old men could not remember any heat to match this, and the grass curled up like wood shavings on the sod roofs while the tarred walls wept black tears, the windows all stood gaping, and oldsters and sick people that hadn't been seen for years came out into the daylight with squinting eyes and with strangely distant smiles.
It was not a pleasant heat. The word went round that one could get sunstroke from it. Many therefore cautiously stayed in the shade, but even here the heat was persistent. The sweat poured forth as soon as one undertook the slightest thing, and if one sat still, one became sleepy and fell into an unhealthy doze...
It was boiling hot in the sun, and the big thermometer in the yard of the Rømerske Handel showed 65°F."
- Faroese Short Stories
It was not a pleasant heat. The word went round that one could get sunstroke from it. Many therefore cautiously stayed in the shade, but even here the heat was persistent. The sweat poured forth as soon as one undertook the slightest thing, and if one sat still, one became sleepy and fell into an unhealthy doze...
It was boiling hot in the sun, and the big thermometer in the yard of the Rømerske Handel showed 65°F."
- Faroese Short Stories
May 22, 2009
Shopping for Short People
It's hard. It really is. People think it's cute that I'm so small, but they haven't /really/ thought about it.
Take shorts, for example. Shorts make my legs look even shorter than they already are... and if your legs are too short, they can't really look slender. Now, mine don't look fat or thick or anything, but I would need more length for them to actually look slender. The shorter the shorts, the less of an effect this has, but I'm still not a fan of shorts.
Once I have the shorts on, the real fun begins. Most shirts are long on me. I have broad enough shoulders, so I can wear even up to a medium shirt size, depending on the design, but shirts invariably go over the top of my jeans and sometimes several inches below that. Which is fine, when I'm wearing jeans.
When I'm wearing shorts, it looks like I'm not wearing pants.
Finding shorts in size 0 is really easy for some reason, since society wants us to have pencil legs - and even if shorts are 'long' shorts, I still don't have to walk on them like I walk on most pants.
But shoes are fun again. When I tell them size 5, most stores send me to the kids section. And guess what? I've grown out of Barbie and Hannah Montana, even if my feet haven't.
Take shorts, for example. Shorts make my legs look even shorter than they already are... and if your legs are too short, they can't really look slender. Now, mine don't look fat or thick or anything, but I would need more length for them to actually look slender. The shorter the shorts, the less of an effect this has, but I'm still not a fan of shorts.
Once I have the shorts on, the real fun begins. Most shirts are long on me. I have broad enough shoulders, so I can wear even up to a medium shirt size, depending on the design, but shirts invariably go over the top of my jeans and sometimes several inches below that. Which is fine, when I'm wearing jeans.
When I'm wearing shorts, it looks like I'm not wearing pants.
Finding shorts in size 0 is really easy for some reason, since society wants us to have pencil legs - and even if shorts are 'long' shorts, I still don't have to walk on them like I walk on most pants.
But shoes are fun again. When I tell them size 5, most stores send me to the kids section. And guess what? I've grown out of Barbie and Hannah Montana, even if my feet haven't.
May 21, 2009
The End of Endless Possibilities
This is what happens:
We move on from the brilliant light show of our hopes and dreams, endless possibilities...
We make a choice, move on...
To something more earthbound and concrete. But it is real, and ours, we have earned it.
I don't know which I like better.
We move on from the brilliant light show of our hopes and dreams, endless possibilities...
We make a choice, move on...
To something more earthbound and concrete. But it is real, and ours, we have earned it.
I don't know which I like better.
Moving
Did I think that things would be nice and easy once finals ended? Ha!
Finals turned into packing the dorm room, turned into organizing the lake house, turned into emptying St. Louis and yard sales and real estate and God knows what else. It's funny to realize how much more housework I do when I'm home than when I'm living by myself... you'd think it would even out since I have to do all of my own things in Columbia, and am only doing random things here... but I lived to avoid housework 'back home'... used as few dishes as possible, wore as few clothes... and my family doesn't do that, and I'm doing it less here too - simply because we are not as directly responsible for our own messes as I was back in Columbia.
I'm getting more sleep here but otherwise I'm just as busy, with less computer time, even stressful need-to-be-doing-something computer time. Which means less blogging. Which is sad because there are a lot of events and feelings, some of which I can even blog about - or could, if I had time.
Some highlights:
- I have eight days left in my childhood home. We're moving out about 11 days from now but we're going to spend some of them with family due to a wedding and graduation. I have no days left on my childhood bed - I came home to find it already in the drive way for the yardsale.
- Stephanie and I spent a nice day together (with Tidbit XD) at Castlewood, going up the bluffs and walking along the river. Later I taught her to use a ricecooker. She got me a really cool book: "Faroese Short Stories". How she found /that/ I don't know.
- I'm so distanced already from Mizzou life that I sometimes forget about it - next week I need to do a few things for Japan (namely, look into the phone situation and buy my railpass)... and I can't forget to do that just because I no longer see Mayumi, Mitsuki, Mimi, Tomomi, Laura, or any of my other reminders of that nature anymore! :P
Finals turned into packing the dorm room, turned into organizing the lake house, turned into emptying St. Louis and yard sales and real estate and God knows what else. It's funny to realize how much more housework I do when I'm home than when I'm living by myself... you'd think it would even out since I have to do all of my own things in Columbia, and am only doing random things here... but I lived to avoid housework 'back home'... used as few dishes as possible, wore as few clothes... and my family doesn't do that, and I'm doing it less here too - simply because we are not as directly responsible for our own messes as I was back in Columbia.
I'm getting more sleep here but otherwise I'm just as busy, with less computer time, even stressful need-to-be-doing-something computer time. Which means less blogging. Which is sad because there are a lot of events and feelings, some of which I can even blog about - or could, if I had time.
Some highlights:
- I have eight days left in my childhood home. We're moving out about 11 days from now but we're going to spend some of them with family due to a wedding and graduation. I have no days left on my childhood bed - I came home to find it already in the drive way for the yardsale.
- Stephanie and I spent a nice day together (with Tidbit XD) at Castlewood, going up the bluffs and walking along the river. Later I taught her to use a ricecooker. She got me a really cool book: "Faroese Short Stories". How she found /that/ I don't know.
- I'm so distanced already from Mizzou life that I sometimes forget about it - next week I need to do a few things for Japan (namely, look into the phone situation and buy my railpass)... and I can't forget to do that just because I no longer see Mayumi, Mitsuki, Mimi, Tomomi, Laura, or any of my other reminders of that nature anymore! :P
May 13, 2009
No Tears
Laura left today and no tears - I'll see her in about two months, after all, and they'll be busy two months... no time to waste away in longing. I cry easily but with a reason - leaving people in foreign countries who I may never meet again, graduating with my best friend since 3rd grade and knowing things would never be the same again... not to say goodbye to (even good) friends who I'll see again in just a few short months.
I won't cry for Tabi either - same reason, although it will be three months in her case. This is the last night that we'll share a wall, though, which is an interesting thought...
It's depressing that I'm one of the last ones to leave, because I have to watch everyone else leave. But really it's just vaguely depressing, not sad. I'm ready to go home for the summer, and for a number of complex and various reasons I'm not going to weep buckets even about any of the foreigners who are leaving, although I probably won't see them again.
Will there be those I think about fondly from time to time? Sure. Am I happy that I'll see a certain five of them in Japan this summer, and say a better goodbye then? Sure. But even the two who I've developed the (erm... most complex?) relationships with, Mayumi and Jorge, aren't going to make my cry, and with most of the others I've only had surface relationships. Jorge and I had our fun, but he's been super awkward ever since and I'm ready to not have to look at him anymore. Mayumi has been a great roommate, but I'll see her in Japan this summer, and afterall we've never really been close friends.
I WILL miss Ju and Prite, who may or may not be back next fall, and will certainly leave by next winter. They've suddenly become my closest foreign friends, and I will really and truly miss them.
But you know what? It's okay that there are only two, because I have enough people to miss from back home already. :)
I won't cry for Tabi either - same reason, although it will be three months in her case. This is the last night that we'll share a wall, though, which is an interesting thought...
It's depressing that I'm one of the last ones to leave, because I have to watch everyone else leave. But really it's just vaguely depressing, not sad. I'm ready to go home for the summer, and for a number of complex and various reasons I'm not going to weep buckets even about any of the foreigners who are leaving, although I probably won't see them again.
Will there be those I think about fondly from time to time? Sure. Am I happy that I'll see a certain five of them in Japan this summer, and say a better goodbye then? Sure. But even the two who I've developed the (erm... most complex?) relationships with, Mayumi and Jorge, aren't going to make my cry, and with most of the others I've only had surface relationships. Jorge and I had our fun, but he's been super awkward ever since and I'm ready to not have to look at him anymore. Mayumi has been a great roommate, but I'll see her in Japan this summer, and afterall we've never really been close friends.
I WILL miss Ju and Prite, who may or may not be back next fall, and will certainly leave by next winter. They've suddenly become my closest foreign friends, and I will really and truly miss them.
But you know what? It's okay that there are only two, because I have enough people to miss from back home already. :)
May 12, 2009
Rice Cooker Clam Chowder
I needed comfort food today. (Allergies do that. :P) So I made some clam chowder. In my rice cooker, naturally. I started with an ordinary can of the stuff... I think it was Whole Foods brand but it didn't look very different than any other ready to eat kind when it came out of the can. I added a can of clams, partially drained, that I had lying around. I wanted to add some milk, but I didn't have any, so I added about half a cup of cream and almost a cup of water. It is /very/ rich but /very/ delicious. Then I added just a bit of oregano, as well as a clove of garlic that I chopped up real quick. I didn't get as much of the garlic on my hands as usual, yay! I'd never put garlic in clam chowder and I was afraid to because I have a bit of an addiction to garlic and sometimes even put it where it doesn't belong, but oh my, it made a huge and positive difference here. It's interesting for me, because I normally improvise with Asian-flavour foods which have a lot of spices, etc, and you can easily add 2 or 3 cloves of garlic and barely notice it. Here I added one and the warmth of garlic suffuses the whole soup, because there aren't any other strong flavours for it to compete with. This is probably the best clam chowder I've had outside of a fancy seafood restaurant. I'm actually going to write down the approximate ingredients:
- 1 Can Clam Chowder
- 1 Can of Clams (drain partially, leave only about 1/4 cup of clam juice)
- 1/2 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
- 3/4 cup Water
- Sprinkle of Oregano (to taste)
- 1 clove of Garlic
P.S.) I like my clam chowder thing. If you like it thicker, add less water, more potatoes, and even some flour.
- 1 Can Clam Chowder
- 1 Can of Clams (drain partially, leave only about 1/4 cup of clam juice)
- 1/2 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
- 3/4 cup Water
- Sprinkle of Oregano (to taste)
- 1 clove of Garlic
P.S.) I like my clam chowder thing. If you like it thicker, add less water, more potatoes, and even some flour.
Finals Week Update
Allergies are getting worse, not better. The last week has been almost unbearable, and if things don't break soon, I don't know what I'm going to do. Nights are the worst - I can't just sleep through it, I wake up coughing and sneezing, too cold or too hot, and feeling like shit. And it makes it worse that I have a roommate, because, despite her insistence that it never wakes her up, I know I'm coughing really loudly and obnoxiously and a lot of times when it gets too bad I go to the bathroom to do it.
Anyway. This morning the plan was to take the German final, then work all day on my Spanish essay. I woke up on time and went to the German classroom only to see it full of strangers. I was really freaked out and thought that I had somehow missed the exam. Then I couldn't remember what day it was... Tuesdays are hard for me to remember because Mondays are so long, you know? Anyhow, I found out that ALL my exams are actually Wednesday! I thought two of them were Tuesday, haven't the faintest idea why. They were all in my calendar correctly. None of them conflict, luckily.
I started walking back and sat by the fountain for three or four minutes. The sound and coolness was nice. I woke up cold and had worn a long sleeve shirt and a jacket, but suddenly it was unbearably hot. I thought to myself that at least now I was woken up, I'd just pretend for my pride that that's why I had gone out, and I could start my Spanish essay. But I came back and spent an hour or so reading blogs before settling down to begin.
I don't feel like I'm getting that deep into the topic, but I feel like it's kind of difficult to. The topic is to explain the quote, "(something like) stories are fiction, but they reflect the truth.", using stories we have read in class. So far I've been going through and scanning the author bios for some idea about what's important to them, then talk about what problem, idea, or emotion (most common) they are trying to express with the invented elements of their story. I hope this is the right idea, but since there are many stories it feels kind of shallow... I dunno.
Anyway. This morning the plan was to take the German final, then work all day on my Spanish essay. I woke up on time and went to the German classroom only to see it full of strangers. I was really freaked out and thought that I had somehow missed the exam. Then I couldn't remember what day it was... Tuesdays are hard for me to remember because Mondays are so long, you know? Anyhow, I found out that ALL my exams are actually Wednesday! I thought two of them were Tuesday, haven't the faintest idea why. They were all in my calendar correctly. None of them conflict, luckily.
I started walking back and sat by the fountain for three or four minutes. The sound and coolness was nice. I woke up cold and had worn a long sleeve shirt and a jacket, but suddenly it was unbearably hot. I thought to myself that at least now I was woken up, I'd just pretend for my pride that that's why I had gone out, and I could start my Spanish essay. But I came back and spent an hour or so reading blogs before settling down to begin.
I don't feel like I'm getting that deep into the topic, but I feel like it's kind of difficult to. The topic is to explain the quote, "(something like) stories are fiction, but they reflect the truth.", using stories we have read in class. So far I've been going through and scanning the author bios for some idea about what's important to them, then talk about what problem, idea, or emotion (most common) they are trying to express with the invented elements of their story. I hope this is the right idea, but since there are many stories it feels kind of shallow... I dunno.
May 11, 2009
Exit Strategy
For a week that was supposed to be empty and easy, I'm finding that I have a surprisingly large number of things to do, divided into four categories: Finals, Next Year Job, Japan Preparations, and Packing.
Today I Planned To Do:
- Begin packing.
- Talk to Laura, figure out when we're doing what for Japan.
- Get about halfway through my Spanish essay.
- Study a bit for German final tomorrow.
Well, I got /a lot/ more packing done than I expected or planned on. I'm about half done with that. The room still looks like a mess but it's not nearly the dense mess that it was. I did all my laundry and dishes, packed 1 huge box and 7 medium boxes (which I got free from Dobbs), and damn near emptied my closet. Laura and I made a run to my storage bay and dropped off the sleeping bags she still had from our trip to the lake, as well as the big box of clothes, a couple other boxes of bags and such, and a lot of cookware - my frying pan, my pot, my strainer, my truly horrifyingly enormous metal pot, my crockpot, my cutting board and all my cookbooks. Almost all of my books are packed now, as are all of my movies. I reckon I only have an hour or two more of work which I can actually do before Friday, since I still have to sleep, eat, and clothe myself here until then.
It's all very complicated because I essentially have six categories to sort things into:
1.) Things that are going to my storage bay for a pretty long time.
2.) Things that are going to my storage bay and returning to campus with me next year.
3.) Things that are going to my lake house for a pretty long time.
4.) Things that are going to my lake house and returning to campus with me next year.
5.) Things that are going to Florida for a pretty long time.
6.) Things that are going to Florida and returning to campus with me next year.
The main deciding factors are...
A.) Do I need it this summer?
Yes? ---- Florida
No? ---- Read On
B.) Will it die if left in extreme heat?
Yes? ---- Lake House
No? ---- Storage Bay
Keep in mind that 'this summer' includes Japan, and you've got a recipe for a major headache. Basically though, I am assuming that I don't need my cooking or dorm room living stuff this summer or in Japan, and not worrying about it. This leaves books, of which I'll want a few in Florida (can't take too many, though), and one or two in Japan, and clothes, of course, which are needed everywhere. I'm trying to sort clothes now, and I'm leaving some of the other stuff until the lake this weekend. For example, all of my books are going to the lake, but I'll take out the ones I want at that point, when I unpack them. There are also things I'll want to pack for Japan that would be a major to think up right now, because I'm already dealing with 100 different things. Mostly, though, these aren't expensive or a big deal, so I'll probably survive even if I have to buy new ones. (Passport holder, etc) I need to NOT forget to pack a good bag, though, in addition to my suitcase, for day trips. Probably my Marimekko bag.
I also have Japan almost wrapped up. All I need now is to buy my rail pass and probably a rentaphone for when I'm over there. Laura and I have talked about the itinerary and different options pretty extensively and we're on the same page for almost everything, which is great. I think we'll travel well together.
For Tomorrow: Take German final. Write Spanish essay.
That's it. Seriously. I need to get the Spanish essay done by a reasonable hour, and I neglected it today.
For Wednesday: Spanish final, Statistics Final, Racquetball in the evening with Ju.
For Thursday: Maybe a bit more packing if I'm bored. Otherwise, just sitting around. Most of my friends are gone. That's okay, though, I can always read/otherwise entertain myself. Also I have to make and send in my syllabus, but that's the work of an hour, two at the most. I also need to see Ben about being the AMG secretary next year. I'll probably play Racquetball with Ju again.
For Friday: Make sure Mayumi wakes up for her flight. See her off. Depending on the time, go to Ju/Prite's graduation. Finish packing everything and clean off furniture/floor. Have Melissa and Dad help me put everything in the car. Leave.
Today I Planned To Do:
- Begin packing.
- Talk to Laura, figure out when we're doing what for Japan.
- Get about halfway through my Spanish essay.
- Study a bit for German final tomorrow.
Well, I got /a lot/ more packing done than I expected or planned on. I'm about half done with that. The room still looks like a mess but it's not nearly the dense mess that it was. I did all my laundry and dishes, packed 1 huge box and 7 medium boxes (which I got free from Dobbs), and damn near emptied my closet. Laura and I made a run to my storage bay and dropped off the sleeping bags she still had from our trip to the lake, as well as the big box of clothes, a couple other boxes of bags and such, and a lot of cookware - my frying pan, my pot, my strainer, my truly horrifyingly enormous metal pot, my crockpot, my cutting board and all my cookbooks. Almost all of my books are packed now, as are all of my movies. I reckon I only have an hour or two more of work which I can actually do before Friday, since I still have to sleep, eat, and clothe myself here until then.
It's all very complicated because I essentially have six categories to sort things into:
1.) Things that are going to my storage bay for a pretty long time.
2.) Things that are going to my storage bay and returning to campus with me next year.
3.) Things that are going to my lake house for a pretty long time.
4.) Things that are going to my lake house and returning to campus with me next year.
5.) Things that are going to Florida for a pretty long time.
6.) Things that are going to Florida and returning to campus with me next year.
The main deciding factors are...
A.) Do I need it this summer?
Yes? ---- Florida
No? ---- Read On
B.) Will it die if left in extreme heat?
Yes? ---- Lake House
No? ---- Storage Bay
Keep in mind that 'this summer' includes Japan, and you've got a recipe for a major headache. Basically though, I am assuming that I don't need my cooking or dorm room living stuff this summer or in Japan, and not worrying about it. This leaves books, of which I'll want a few in Florida (can't take too many, though), and one or two in Japan, and clothes, of course, which are needed everywhere. I'm trying to sort clothes now, and I'm leaving some of the other stuff until the lake this weekend. For example, all of my books are going to the lake, but I'll take out the ones I want at that point, when I unpack them. There are also things I'll want to pack for Japan that would be a major to think up right now, because I'm already dealing with 100 different things. Mostly, though, these aren't expensive or a big deal, so I'll probably survive even if I have to buy new ones. (Passport holder, etc) I need to NOT forget to pack a good bag, though, in addition to my suitcase, for day trips. Probably my Marimekko bag.
I also have Japan almost wrapped up. All I need now is to buy my rail pass and probably a rentaphone for when I'm over there. Laura and I have talked about the itinerary and different options pretty extensively and we're on the same page for almost everything, which is great. I think we'll travel well together.
For Tomorrow: Take German final. Write Spanish essay.
That's it. Seriously. I need to get the Spanish essay done by a reasonable hour, and I neglected it today.
For Wednesday: Spanish final, Statistics Final, Racquetball in the evening with Ju.
For Thursday: Maybe a bit more packing if I'm bored. Otherwise, just sitting around. Most of my friends are gone. That's okay, though, I can always read/otherwise entertain myself. Also I have to make and send in my syllabus, but that's the work of an hour, two at the most. I also need to see Ben about being the AMG secretary next year. I'll probably play Racquetball with Ju again.
For Friday: Make sure Mayumi wakes up for her flight. See her off. Depending on the time, go to Ju/Prite's graduation. Finish packing everything and clean off furniture/floor. Have Melissa and Dad help me put everything in the car. Leave.
At the Epicenter of Swine Flu
Okay, that's overly dramatic. But read on.
I didn't think I would end up blogging about Swine Flu, even though it seemed as though everyone else was, ranging from those who had a good reason (The Mexile, based in Mexico City) to those who just felt like they should, I guess (Life in the Faroes) XD.
But this morning, as soon as Mayumi and I woke up and started reading our emails and other such morning activities, Mayumi seemed alarmed and asked, "Miranda, is it true that a Chinese student from the University of Missouri has swine flu??"
I hadn't heard anything about that, so I googled it. The first reports of it came in only six hours before, so it wasn't strange that I hadn't, but it sent shivers down my spine just the same. Missouri hasn't had many cases, there haven't been any in my University, but here the second case of swine flu in China (and the first case was a Mexican) comes from here!
I don't think many people outside Missouri know that there are actually four Universities of Missouri, in the same system. (UMKC, UMSL, University of Missouri Columbia, and Rolla), so the newspapers just said "University of Missouri" and technically we weren't sure which one it was, although almost always, if they don't specify, it's us - we're the biggest. Later the University Newspaper confirmed this.
For someone who has many international friends and, in particular, several Chinese friends, it hit very close to home. Even though the man in question was a graduate student, it almost felt as though I should know him. My friend Anlan is going back to China at the end of this week and she was nervous about Swine flu, and being quarantined, before this. Now I wonder if China, whose anti-swine flu policy has been very strict, would go so far as to quarantine her just from coming from the infected university?
It's all very strange. I still haven't even heard of the friend of a friend of a friend having swine flu, although that may change as stories of this case spread.
I didn't think I would end up blogging about Swine Flu, even though it seemed as though everyone else was, ranging from those who had a good reason (The Mexile, based in Mexico City) to those who just felt like they should, I guess (Life in the Faroes) XD.
But this morning, as soon as Mayumi and I woke up and started reading our emails and other such morning activities, Mayumi seemed alarmed and asked, "Miranda, is it true that a Chinese student from the University of Missouri has swine flu??"
I hadn't heard anything about that, so I googled it. The first reports of it came in only six hours before, so it wasn't strange that I hadn't, but it sent shivers down my spine just the same. Missouri hasn't had many cases, there haven't been any in my University, but here the second case of swine flu in China (and the first case was a Mexican) comes from here!
I don't think many people outside Missouri know that there are actually four Universities of Missouri, in the same system. (UMKC, UMSL, University of Missouri Columbia, and Rolla), so the newspapers just said "University of Missouri" and technically we weren't sure which one it was, although almost always, if they don't specify, it's us - we're the biggest. Later the University Newspaper confirmed this.
For someone who has many international friends and, in particular, several Chinese friends, it hit very close to home. Even though the man in question was a graduate student, it almost felt as though I should know him. My friend Anlan is going back to China at the end of this week and she was nervous about Swine flu, and being quarantined, before this. Now I wonder if China, whose anti-swine flu policy has been very strict, would go so far as to quarantine her just from coming from the infected university?
It's all very strange. I still haven't even heard of the friend of a friend of a friend having swine flu, although that may change as stories of this case spread.
May 09, 2009
Two Worlds
Quotes from Andrea Lewis' Facebook Note:
"A year has past and now we stand on the brink of returning to a world where we are surrounded by the paradox of everything yet nothing being the same. In a few weeks we will reluctantly give our hugs and, fighting the tears, say goodbye to the people who were once just names on a sheet of paper to return to people that we hugged and fought tears to say goodbye to before we ever left. We will leave our best friends to return to our best friends. We will go back to places we came from and go back to the same things we did last summer and every summer before. We will come into town on that same familiar road, and even though it has been months, it will seem like only yesterday."
"Then you realize how much things have changed, you realize the hardest part of college is balancing the two completely different worlds you now live in, trying desperately to hold on to everything all the while trying to figure out what you have to leave behind. In the matter of one day's traveling time, we will leave our world of living next door to our best friends, walking across campus to eat, instant messenger, 8:00 classes, and perpetual procrastination to a world that will seem foreign to us despite the fact that we have lived in it for nineteen years."
This says a lot. I'd just like to add that the move to Florida is simultaneously making this easier and harder for me. Also that all of our friends went through the same thing, so there's that aspect of it. And it probably helps me that I've come back home from things that I felt had fundamentally altered my being only to find myself settling back into the old habits remarkably quickly, holding only traces of my 'life changing' experience. (But even a small change is a change.)
This whole situation, while true, is pretty darn universal and stereotypical and I don't know how much more I have to add to reflections on it. But there it is.
"A year has past and now we stand on the brink of returning to a world where we are surrounded by the paradox of everything yet nothing being the same. In a few weeks we will reluctantly give our hugs and, fighting the tears, say goodbye to the people who were once just names on a sheet of paper to return to people that we hugged and fought tears to say goodbye to before we ever left. We will leave our best friends to return to our best friends. We will go back to places we came from and go back to the same things we did last summer and every summer before. We will come into town on that same familiar road, and even though it has been months, it will seem like only yesterday."
"Then you realize how much things have changed, you realize the hardest part of college is balancing the two completely different worlds you now live in, trying desperately to hold on to everything all the while trying to figure out what you have to leave behind. In the matter of one day's traveling time, we will leave our world of living next door to our best friends, walking across campus to eat, instant messenger, 8:00 classes, and perpetual procrastination to a world that will seem foreign to us despite the fact that we have lived in it for nineteen years."
This says a lot. I'd just like to add that the move to Florida is simultaneously making this easier and harder for me. Also that all of our friends went through the same thing, so there's that aspect of it. And it probably helps me that I've come back home from things that I felt had fundamentally altered my being only to find myself settling back into the old habits remarkably quickly, holding only traces of my 'life changing' experience. (But even a small change is a change.)
This whole situation, while true, is pretty darn universal and stereotypical and I don't know how much more I have to add to reflections on it. But there it is.
Friends that Leave
Prite and Ju are graduating this semester, which means that when I leave on Friday, the chances are overwhelming that I won't see them hardly at all afterwards. There is a microscopic chance that they'll get some sort of job in Columbia, or very close. They might also come and visit Columbia once in a blue moon. I only met them last fall, after Thanksgiving really, and it's strange to think that we've already made so many memories and that we're seperating on Friday.
A lot of people I've met this year are leaving, of course, since I lived in Pangaea. In another time, I might try to get the addresses of one or two of them, send them a Christmas card or something next year and then never really think of them again. The internet really had made things easier, though. Now I can keep in reasonable touch with whomever I like. And Facebook has REALLY changed things. There are many International Students I wouldn't even try to keep in touch with actively, but we'll remain lightly linked to each other's lives through Facebook, for better or for worse. I'll see random status updates and laugh at old memories. More than likely, I'll see their wedding pictures and the pictures of their children. And, of course, it keeps alive the possibility that if I'm ever stopping by their hometown we can go out and get coffee. It's nice.
But this is a secondary... no, tertiary type of relationship. The primary kind is ending. Now. Some of the International Students are leaving as early as Wednesday.
Of course, our time with anyone isn't infinite. And memories remain, and...
Take Fangbai. I went to her party last night with Ju and Prite. They are leaving but she isn't, and she's great, and we'll probably hang out next year.
Take Thailand. If I ever go there, and knowing me I very well might, I have two people who have promised to show me around. :)
There's no use, really, making calculations about the value of friendships. They are not carefully considered investments to be made. I've found that it's best to just spend time with good people - the rest will fall into place. ^^
But it's still sad. :(
A lot of people I've met this year are leaving, of course, since I lived in Pangaea. In another time, I might try to get the addresses of one or two of them, send them a Christmas card or something next year and then never really think of them again. The internet really had made things easier, though. Now I can keep in reasonable touch with whomever I like. And Facebook has REALLY changed things. There are many International Students I wouldn't even try to keep in touch with actively, but we'll remain lightly linked to each other's lives through Facebook, for better or for worse. I'll see random status updates and laugh at old memories. More than likely, I'll see their wedding pictures and the pictures of their children. And, of course, it keeps alive the possibility that if I'm ever stopping by their hometown we can go out and get coffee. It's nice.
But this is a secondary... no, tertiary type of relationship. The primary kind is ending. Now. Some of the International Students are leaving as early as Wednesday.
Of course, our time with anyone isn't infinite. And memories remain, and...
Take Fangbai. I went to her party last night with Ju and Prite. They are leaving but she isn't, and she's great, and we'll probably hang out next year.
Take Thailand. If I ever go there, and knowing me I very well might, I have two people who have promised to show me around. :)
There's no use, really, making calculations about the value of friendships. They are not carefully considered investments to be made. I've found that it's best to just spend time with good people - the rest will fall into place. ^^
But it's still sad. :(
May 08, 2009
False Forever
Even knowing that it's natural, this moving apart... not drifting but rushing, each of us pursuing our own dreams... even knowing that it's how it should be... the word 'never' catches in our throats.
We know it will never be as it was.
We know that coming together again, all of us, even just a few of us, becomes more and more difficult with each bend in each of our roads, and even if we manage it, it will be precious.
Precious. We'll count each minute like pearls on a necklace until they are all over.
Remembering that sense of infinity, endlessness, that we'd be together forever.
Remembering it, looking back, a shake of the head and a wistful smile and almost thinking,
"I didn't understand what it was. Wasteful."
But without that waste, we wouldn't have what we have, forged in false forever.
We know it will never be as it was.
We know that coming together again, all of us, even just a few of us, becomes more and more difficult with each bend in each of our roads, and even if we manage it, it will be precious.
Precious. We'll count each minute like pearls on a necklace until they are all over.
Remembering that sense of infinity, endlessness, that we'd be together forever.
Remembering it, looking back, a shake of the head and a wistful smile and almost thinking,
"I didn't understand what it was. Wasteful."
But without that waste, we wouldn't have what we have, forged in false forever.
May 07, 2009
五十かんじ！ （５２ Kanji)
本田下上山川日国人語英一二三四五六七八九十男女子大小好時何月半百千万円高安学生先校私間毎来週今年火水木金土曜
I now know 52 Kanji. My goal is 200 by the time I go to Japan.
An original (and true) sentence in beautiful Kanji:
三週間日本にいます。
I will be in Japan for three weeks.
I now know 52 Kanji. My goal is 200 by the time I go to Japan.
An original (and true) sentence in beautiful Kanji:
三週間日本にいます。
I will be in Japan for three weeks.
Japanese Flash Cards
Here's the thing about Flash Cards.
They well... have two sides.
And ideally, you want them to go both ways.
Normally this works well for languages. You can put "Hello" on one side and "Hola" on the other and when you've mastered remembering that Hola means Hello you can reverse it and see if you can produce Hola when presented with Hello.
But it's not always that easy. There are sometimes multiple translations, for example.
And sometimes it's even harder. Take Japanese.
I want to learn the phrase "This Week". Simple enough, right? Write "This Week" on one side, and "Konshuu" on the other? Sort of. But I want to learn the Kanji for "This Week" as well. (今週）
Maybe you can already see the problem. If I just put the Kanji, then how will I know if I have remembered the sound of the word properly? (And which is more important - can I put the card in the 'I know it' pile if I remember /just/ the Kanji or /just/ the sound? Or do I make four columns - 'know it completely' 'know the Kanji' 'know the sound' 'don't know it'?) Likewise, if I read from the Kanji side, I won't be able to test myself on the reading.
There's also the debate about whether I should write in Romaji or in Hiragana. I know Hiragana is better for me but I learn /so/ much faster in Romaji, and I'm on a schedule here. But this last question provides a reasonable solution.
I have decided to put the Kanji (large) on one side, and the English (large) on the other, and on each side, smallish and in the corner, the sound in Hiragana (こんしゅう）. I read the English alphabet so automatically that I wouldn't be able to test myself if it was written there, but I can avoid looking at the Hiragana, and I don't yet read it without thinking, so it essentially hides it from my view if I have any willpower at all. That way I can test myself Kanji - Meaning or Meaning - Kanji, and try to read the Kanji right, and if I have any doubt, I have the reading on both sides.
They well... have two sides.
And ideally, you want them to go both ways.
Normally this works well for languages. You can put "Hello" on one side and "Hola" on the other and when you've mastered remembering that Hola means Hello you can reverse it and see if you can produce Hola when presented with Hello.
But it's not always that easy. There are sometimes multiple translations, for example.
And sometimes it's even harder. Take Japanese.
I want to learn the phrase "This Week". Simple enough, right? Write "This Week" on one side, and "Konshuu" on the other? Sort of. But I want to learn the Kanji for "This Week" as well. (今週）
Maybe you can already see the problem. If I just put the Kanji, then how will I know if I have remembered the sound of the word properly? (And which is more important - can I put the card in the 'I know it' pile if I remember /just/ the Kanji or /just/ the sound? Or do I make four columns - 'know it completely' 'know the Kanji' 'know the sound' 'don't know it'?) Likewise, if I read from the Kanji side, I won't be able to test myself on the reading.
There's also the debate about whether I should write in Romaji or in Hiragana. I know Hiragana is better for me but I learn /so/ much faster in Romaji, and I'm on a schedule here. But this last question provides a reasonable solution.
I have decided to put the Kanji (large) on one side, and the English (large) on the other, and on each side, smallish and in the corner, the sound in Hiragana (こんしゅう）. I read the English alphabet so automatically that I wouldn't be able to test myself if it was written there, but I can avoid looking at the Hiragana, and I don't yet read it without thinking, so it essentially hides it from my view if I have any willpower at all. That way I can test myself Kanji - Meaning or Meaning - Kanji, and try to read the Kanji right, and if I have any doubt, I have the reading on both sides.
Trees and Storms
This is the most violent most beautiful time of year in Missouri. Late Spring brings the last of the sweet spring rains and the first of the tremendous summer thunderstorms, and everything is so painfully vibrant and green that it hurts. The trees are so thick with leaves and flowers and the fragrance wafts throughout campus and even covers most of the smell of fast food and exhaust. The trees provide shade, though it's not yet really needed - thick, moist, deep shade that turns tree lined pathways into near tunnels. Did you know that the University of Missouri Columbia is a registered botanical garden? You can tell this time of year. In Winter it's not so noticeable and last semester I was so overwhelmed by the newness of everything that I didn't see but now I'm absolutely astonished by the biodiversity.
We're in the middle of one of those storms now. Trees are whipping the air mercilessly, the street signs are shaking violently, and of course the rain is beating down incessantly and the wind is creating waves and tides and feels like it is shaking our building, making us rather glad to live in a giant hunk of concrete and making Ben come down to tell us to shut all the doors and windows and we might have to go to the basement. We hear hail. Water starts to come in sideways.
Then it is over.
We're in the middle of one of those storms now. Trees are whipping the air mercilessly, the street signs are shaking violently, and of course the rain is beating down incessantly and the wind is creating waves and tides and feels like it is shaking our building, making us rather glad to live in a giant hunk of concrete and making Ben come down to tell us to shut all the doors and windows and we might have to go to the basement. We hear hail. Water starts to come in sideways.
Then it is over.
I Pick the Sea
I've never had to deal with allergies and finals at the same time before, and it's miserable. Luckily I think the worst is over for the school year. I have one more essay to do tonight (German) and one due Wednesday (Spanish) and two low stress finals (German and Statistics) on Tuesday. That's it. Other than that I have just random tasks to do, like getting my external hard drive fixed, buying a new power cord, finalizing a few of the last details for Japan (I have two more hotels to book, and one hotel stay to extend, and I want to order my rail pass) and... erm... sleeping? Haha.
Oh yeah, and I have to move out, which is a daunting task. :) I'll probably get a good start Wednesday and finish up on Friday. My dad is coming in the evening with the car and boxes, and without the boxes I'm limited as to what I can actually pack, but I can organize things before then. There's a lot going on right now and I'm really looking forward to having some time to deal.
I'm long term and short term exhausted. Sick of allergies. Sick of feeling trapped and all that shit. I want to relax. There is the sea longing, for example...
I have an exceptional imagination. Today I took a different turn than normal from Journalism and found myself looking up a hill towards the main University. I was actually looking at part of the Business building but I didn't quite recognizing it, just seeing walls and trees behind. And what trees! I never, ever, ever have too many trees. Every kind in every season amazes me. I don't know. :) But these were summer green, and the sun was shining through their leaves.
This is what I saw: red brick walls, bright green leaves behind, and then nothing. The angle of the landscape left what was beyond to my imagination. I imagined a wide green field. Perhaps some low and unobtrusive sand coloured ruins. They weren't central to the theme. Beyond, the sea... calm, blue, crystal clear, waiting. A few families. Picnics. Swim Diapers. Soft Laughter. A yellow lab was playing at the edge of the water.
I saw it in my mind's eye and more than that I felt it. I felt as if that was beyond the wall and the trees and that changed the flavour of the street I was on entirely. I felt contented and relaxed. I wonder if it's not my adjusting to the move to Florida, but I think it's something more than that too.
I think you can tell something about someone's personality by whether they prefer mountains or the sea. Ideally, I'd like to have both, but if I have to choose, mountains win with no contest. For me, the sea is too calm, too relaxed... a place to lay down and let the world pass by. It's pleasant, sure, but we have only so much time in our lives, and I'd rather spend it on my feet.
But right now, I pick sea. Because sometimes even those who go go go need to recharge.
Oh yeah, and I have to move out, which is a daunting task. :) I'll probably get a good start Wednesday and finish up on Friday. My dad is coming in the evening with the car and boxes, and without the boxes I'm limited as to what I can actually pack, but I can organize things before then. There's a lot going on right now and I'm really looking forward to having some time to deal.
I'm long term and short term exhausted. Sick of allergies. Sick of feeling trapped and all that shit. I want to relax. There is the sea longing, for example...
I have an exceptional imagination. Today I took a different turn than normal from Journalism and found myself looking up a hill towards the main University. I was actually looking at part of the Business building but I didn't quite recognizing it, just seeing walls and trees behind. And what trees! I never, ever, ever have too many trees. Every kind in every season amazes me. I don't know. :) But these were summer green, and the sun was shining through their leaves.
This is what I saw: red brick walls, bright green leaves behind, and then nothing. The angle of the landscape left what was beyond to my imagination. I imagined a wide green field. Perhaps some low and unobtrusive sand coloured ruins. They weren't central to the theme. Beyond, the sea... calm, blue, crystal clear, waiting. A few families. Picnics. Swim Diapers. Soft Laughter. A yellow lab was playing at the edge of the water.
I saw it in my mind's eye and more than that I felt it. I felt as if that was beyond the wall and the trees and that changed the flavour of the street I was on entirely. I felt contented and relaxed. I wonder if it's not my adjusting to the move to Florida, but I think it's something more than that too.
I think you can tell something about someone's personality by whether they prefer mountains or the sea. Ideally, I'd like to have both, but if I have to choose, mountains win with no contest. For me, the sea is too calm, too relaxed... a place to lay down and let the world pass by. It's pleasant, sure, but we have only so much time in our lives, and I'd rather spend it on my feet.
But right now, I pick sea. Because sometimes even those who go go go need to recharge.
May 05, 2009
Translations are Like Wives
"Translations are like wives. The beautiful ones are not faithful, and the faithful ones are not beautiful." - Some Saying
Love this. :)
Love this. :)
Best Cities To Live
http://www.forbes.com/2009/04/27/cities-best-live-lifestyle-real-estate-best-places-to-live.html?feed=rss_popstories
Best Cities to Live:
#1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 16 are all in German speaking Countries! (I would say that they are all German speaking, but I am pretty ignorant about Switzerland, so probably one of those speaks French. XD)
# 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, (14), 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20 are all in Germanic speaking Countries! (I put Brussels in parenthesis because I know it's mostly Francophone. But surely it would have rated higher if they let the Dutchies do more talking ;))
The top 3 speak German, the top 20 speak a Germanic language - that's conclusive enough evidence for me that it's speaking German that makes you happy!
Canada did very well, but I was a bit surprised that Scandinavian cities didn't do as well as might be expected given how high the countries rank for best COUNTRIES to live. Yes, Copenhagen and Stockholm both made a showing, but no Norway, etc. I thought about blaming climate, which is apparently one of the factors that they look at, but the cold didn't seem to have hurt Germany at all. I guess it's because of the lack of big cities in Scandinavia, or maybe all the happy people live outside of cities? For all the shit Norwegians give Oslo, it didn't actually do too bad. (It's 24th). America's first showing is Honolulu at 29th. The only real person I've ever heard of coming from Hawaii is Obama, and I've never met anyone from Hawaii. It just doesn't feel real to me, so I'm not sure we can count it. The next one is San Francisco at 30.
By the way, you can count Germanic-speaking countries all the way to 32 if you give Singapore wiggle room (Danial says that everyone there speaks English, and it's the ordinary language, far more than Malay), and count Swedish for Finland (which seems cruel, but oh well.) At that point, France starts popping in, as does Japan, and the list as a whole becomes far more diverse.
The numbers, btw, are comparing them to New York, which is 100.
Rank 2009 | Rank 2008 | City | Country | Index 2009 | Index 2008 |
| 1 | 2 | VIENNA | AUSTRIA | 108.6 | 107.9 |
| 2 | 1 | ZURICH | SWITZERLAND | 108 | 108 |
| 3 | 2 | GENEVA | SWITZERLAND | 107.9 | 107.9 |
| 4 | 4 | VANCOUVER | CANADA | 107.4 | 107.6 |
| 4 | 5 | AUCKLAND | NEW ZEALAND | 107.4 | 107.3 |
| 6 | 6 | DUSSELDORF | GERMANY | 107.2 | 107.2 |
| 7 | 7 | MUNICH | GERMANY | 107 | 107 |
| 8 | 7 | FRANKFURT | GERMANY | 106.8 | 107 |
| 9 | 9 | BERN | SWITZERLAND | 106.5 | 106.5 |
| 10 | 10 | SYDNEY | AUSTRALIA | 106.3 | 106.3 |
| 11 | 11 | COPENHAGEN | DENMARK | 106.2 | 106.2 |
| 12 | 12 | WELLINGTON | NEW ZEALAND | 105.9 | 105.8 |
| 13 | 13 | AMSTERDAM | NETHERLANDS | 105.7 | 105.7 |
| 14 | 14 | BRUSSELS | BELGIUM | 105.4 | 105.4 |
| 15 | 15 | TORONTO | CANADA | 105.3 | 105.3 |
| 16 | 19 | OTTAWA | CANADA | 105 | 104.7 |
| 16 | 16 | BERLIN | GERMANY | 105 | 105 |
| 18 | 17 | MELBOURNE | AUSTRALIA | 104.8 | 104.8 |
| 19 | 17 | LUXEMBOURG | LUXEMBOURG | 104.6 | 104.8 |
| 20 | 20 | STOCKHOLM | SWEDEN | 104.5 | 104.5 |
Best Cities to Live:
#1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 16 are all in German speaking Countries! (I would say that they are all German speaking, but I am pretty ignorant about Switzerland, so probably one of those speaks French. XD)
# 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, (14), 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, and 20 are all in Germanic speaking Countries! (I put Brussels in parenthesis because I know it's mostly Francophone. But surely it would have rated higher if they let the Dutchies do more talking ;))
The top 3 speak German, the top 20 speak a Germanic language - that's conclusive enough evidence for me that it's speaking German that makes you happy!
Canada did very well, but I was a bit surprised that Scandinavian cities didn't do as well as might be expected given how high the countries rank for best COUNTRIES to live. Yes, Copenhagen and Stockholm both made a showing, but no Norway, etc. I thought about blaming climate, which is apparently one of the factors that they look at, but the cold didn't seem to have hurt Germany at all. I guess it's because of the lack of big cities in Scandinavia, or maybe all the happy people live outside of cities? For all the shit Norwegians give Oslo, it didn't actually do too bad. (It's 24th). America's first showing is Honolulu at 29th. The only real person I've ever heard of coming from Hawaii is Obama, and I've never met anyone from Hawaii. It just doesn't feel real to me, so I'm not sure we can count it. The next one is San Francisco at 30.
By the way, you can count Germanic-speaking countries all the way to 32 if you give Singapore wiggle room (Danial says that everyone there speaks English, and it's the ordinary language, far more than Malay), and count Swedish for Finland (which seems cruel, but oh well.) At that point, France starts popping in, as does Japan, and the list as a whole becomes far more diverse.
21 | 21 | PERTH | AUSTRALIA | 104.3 | 104.3 |
| 22 | 22 | MONTREAL | CANADA | 104.2 | 104.2 |
| 23 | 23 | NURNBERG | GERMANY | 104.1 | 104.1 |
| 24 | 24 | OSLO | NORWAY | 103.7 | 103.7 |
| 25 | 25 | DUBLIN | IRELAND | 103.6 | 103.5 |
| 26 | 32 | SINGAPORE | SINGAPORE | 103.5 | 102.9 |
| 26 | 25 | CALGARY | CANADA | 103.5 | 103.5 |
| 28 | 27 | HAMBURG | GERMANY | 103.4 | 103.4 |
| 29 | 28 | HONOLULU, HI | UNITED STATES | 103.1 | 103.1 |
| 30 | 29 | SAN FRANCISCO, CA | UNITED STATES | 103 | 103 |
| 30 | 29 | HELSINKI | FINLAND | 103 | 103 |
| 30 | 29 | ADELAIDE | AUSTRALIA | 103 | 103 |
| 33 | 32 | PARIS | FRANCE | 102.9 | 102.9 |
| 34 | 34 | BRISBANE | AUSTRALIA | 102.4 | 102.4 |
| 35 | 35 | TOKYO | JAPAN | 102.2 | 102.2 |
The numbers, btw, are comparing them to New York, which is 100.
Coming Up Next: Japan
We've been planning for a good month or two, but this morning Laura and I bought plane tickets to Japan, so it's official. Our travel dates are July 15 - August 5th, giving us a good three weeks to see most of the 'must sees' in Japan. Our itinerary includes Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, Hiroshima, Miyajima, and Nara among the well known sites, as well as stops in Kamakura, Takayama, Kanazawa, Nikko, Mount Koya, and a few other places off the beaten path.
Here is a (by no means exhaustive) photo tour of some of the things we'll be seeing: (Not including our lovely and gracious Japanese friends, of course. :D)
Tokyo! (Note the sign for Karaoke on the far left - *gulp*)
Nagoya Castle
Giant Buddha, Kamakura
Wedded Rocks, Ise
Old Town Takayama
Kenrokuen Garden, Kanazawa
One of the numerous, beautiful gardens of Kyoto
Kinkakuji (Golden Temple), Kyoto
The biggest wooden building in the world: Todaiji Temple in Nara
Hiroshima Peace Memorial Garden
An overnight temple stay at Mount Koya
Himeji Castle
Osaka
The original "Three Monkeys", Nikko
Lake Chuzenji
Tokyo Disney Sea
May 04, 2009
Japanese Update
I wasn't lying when I thought something broke over spring break. But, as I think I've said, it wasn't the Japanese language, as I had hoped. It was just the script. But now finally the language itself is bending. I actually think it's helped to learn in Romaji. I know I shouldn't, but it's helping a lot. I'm getting the grammar figured out, I'm learning the vocabulary much more quickly... Since I already understand the syllabaries pretty well, the plan is now to keep up with Kanji and work on grammar and vocabulary, then about a week before the trip go back and review the kana.
We'll see. I'm only at chapter 5 in my book. I'm not a big fan of this book, but I am learning important things, just in a disorganized and frustrating fashion. And I say the language is bending because it's looking just a bit more possible, I'm not feeling as trapped when I think about how they express various things... I am not just parroting phrases, I can actually make my own sentences now! I know three verb forms (past, non past, and hortative) and about 12 verbs, and the rest of my vocabulary is slowly growing. Some things I can say now (albeit slowly for most of them):
In English:
Which newspaper do you read?
I bought the apple at a kiosk.
Mobile phones are in the electronics counter on the sixth floor.
I didn't go.
Who will cook?
In that case, let's go to the mountains.
I studied Japanese in Tokyo.
Let's eat at eight o'clock.
Shall I carry the suitcase?
The Japanese eat rice every day.
Let's buy the cheap one.
In Japanese:
Dono shinbun o yomimasu ka.
Kiosuku de ringo o kaimashita.
Keitai denwa wa rokkai no denkaseihin-uriba ni arimasu.
Ikimasen deshita.
Sore dewa, yama e ikimashoo.
Watashi wa nihongo o Tookyoo de benkyoo shimashita.
Hachiji ni tabemashoo.
Suutsukeesu o mochimashoo ka.
Mainichi nihonjin wa gohan o tabemasu.
Yasui no kaimashoo.
We'll see. I'm only at chapter 5 in my book. I'm not a big fan of this book, but I am learning important things, just in a disorganized and frustrating fashion. And I say the language is bending because it's looking just a bit more possible, I'm not feeling as trapped when I think about how they express various things... I am not just parroting phrases, I can actually make my own sentences now! I know three verb forms (past, non past, and hortative) and about 12 verbs, and the rest of my vocabulary is slowly growing. Some things I can say now (albeit slowly for most of them):
In English:
Which newspaper do you read?
I bought the apple at a kiosk.
Mobile phones are in the electronics counter on the sixth floor.
I didn't go.
Who will cook?
In that case, let's go to the mountains.
I studied Japanese in Tokyo.
Let's eat at eight o'clock.
Shall I carry the suitcase?
The Japanese eat rice every day.
Let's buy the cheap one.
In Japanese:
Dono shinbun o yomimasu ka.
Kiosuku de ringo o kaimashita.
Keitai denwa wa rokkai no denkaseihin-uriba ni arimasu.
Ikimasen deshita.
Sore dewa, yama e ikimashoo.
Watashi wa nihongo o Tookyoo de benkyoo shimashita.
Hachiji ni tabemashoo.
Suutsukeesu o mochimashoo ka.
Mainichi nihonjin wa gohan o tabemasu.
Yasui no kaimashoo.
May 03, 2009
Flags
A black tarp. Several rectangular wooden tiles. Paintbrushes. A ruler. Several cans of poorly chosen paint colours - black, white, red, and pastel blue, yellow, and green. Ten to twenty students putting off studying for finals.
We painted flags.
We didn't have the ideal colours, and our attempts at mixing failed horribly and produced only a useless pink and several variations of equally useless grey. We only had enough tiles for about 30 flags - far less than we needed to even give a reasonably share to each corner of the world. Instead, it was anarchy. People made what they wanted. This meant Taiwan, and no China, a very beautiful Serbia, Russia, Seychelles, and Isle of Man, no U.K., no Germany, an very detailed Nicaragua and Mexico, no Brazil or Canada, a few attempts at the U.S. and Texan flags, only one of which was allowed to remain, a Finnish flag, a Norwegian flag, even a Sami flag (can you tell I was involved?), Japan, Angola, Georgia, South Ossetia, and a Pangaea flag showing the 'old' globe. Some of them turned out quite nice:
Actually I think they all did. :) Next year Pangaea is moving, and they're tearing down all the flags we have scattered around the floor. Most of them are outdated, damaged, or bad anyway... but it's still a bit sad. And the worst crime is that they're tearing down our very impressive map of the world... which must have been done in years past with a projector or something, it's so detailed and lovely. I think it would be just fine in World of Business... it's only one wall, after all, and they never decorate theirs, but they'll hear none of it. Still, at least we can pass these flags on to the next generation. And we signed and dated and labled all the backs. :D
We painted flags.
We didn't have the ideal colours, and our attempts at mixing failed horribly and produced only a useless pink and several variations of equally useless grey. We only had enough tiles for about 30 flags - far less than we needed to even give a reasonably share to each corner of the world. Instead, it was anarchy. People made what they wanted. This meant Taiwan, and no China, a very beautiful Serbia, Russia, Seychelles, and Isle of Man, no U.K., no Germany, an very detailed Nicaragua and Mexico, no Brazil or Canada, a few attempts at the U.S. and Texan flags, only one of which was allowed to remain, a Finnish flag, a Norwegian flag, even a Sami flag (can you tell I was involved?), Japan, Angola, Georgia, South Ossetia, and a Pangaea flag showing the 'old' globe. Some of them turned out quite nice:
Actually I think they all did. :) Next year Pangaea is moving, and they're tearing down all the flags we have scattered around the floor. Most of them are outdated, damaged, or bad anyway... but it's still a bit sad. And the worst crime is that they're tearing down our very impressive map of the world... which must have been done in years past with a projector or something, it's so detailed and lovely. I think it would be just fine in World of Business... it's only one wall, after all, and they never decorate theirs, but they'll hear none of it. Still, at least we can pass these flags on to the next generation. And we signed and dated and labled all the backs. :D
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