Today is the second day of the Paganalia. Don't forget to pray to Ceres/Demeter, goddess of harvest, and Tellus/Gaia, goddess of the earth, that the birds don't eat your seeds. Or something.
It's also a Feast of Bacchus, which means you have justification for getting drunk. Have fun.
-------------------
So there are 2,191 people with my first and last name together. My first name is the 36th most popular name, and my last name ranks #25.
There's 1,048 people named James Bond and 113 Harry Potters; 503 George Bushes and 31 Emily Dickinsons. Absolutely no one in the US today is named Hermione.
Mistake's name is really uncommon. She's one of the only people with it, though both her first and last name is common. My sister shares her name with 769 people, and Closer's one of 305. Only 49 KTMacks, though. I totally win for the most boring name.
There are seven Clark Kents and nineteen Charles Xaviers. Yes, I looked it up...
How many people share your name?
-------------------
It seems that my plans to become an RA are already helping me socially. At least, they're offering me a bit of practice. First my RA and the 2nd floor female RA (it took me WAY too long to figure out that they've set it up so there's one girl and one guy per floor) talked to me and Loquatia about it, and then tonight the 2nd floor male RA stopped by on his rounds. I was sort of impressed that he not only remembered that I was at the RA meeting, but that I seemed apprehensive about it and that I used to read poetry at the coffeehouses (he mentioned this because he thought I was an English major).
It's nice that they're so interested (though none of them are continuing as RAs so I guess it's entirely possible that I would wind up as one of their RAs, therefore making it in their best interest to get people who aren't crazy or power-hungry... little do they know), but at the same time, you can only say "I'm going to apply and hopefully things work out" so many times.
-------------------
I was translating from English to Latin as a part of a grammar exercise, and may I say, grammar exercises always have the weirdest sentences to translate. Honestly, "Incenderunt pontem in quo pugnamus"? "Agricola cui dedi pecuniam factus est socium meum?" "Sagittae delectaverunt Marcum?"* I don't know who Marcus is, but he needs to stop playing with his arrows, and I have never paid a farmer to be my friend. I have nothing against farmers. I have lots of stuff against paying people to be my friends. They charge too much.
And this Marcus, through the course of the assignment, was established to be a foot soldier, got paid, saw a girl, got a gift from the king, and was delighted by his arrows. An excellent day for him. I wish these people would remember that Caius and Cassius and Brutus are also excellent names and Marcus doesn't have to do everything, and they should stop before they have to pay him overtime.
You can tell I'm sick of translating when the grammar exercises get personalities.
-------------------
I finally got the rug vacuumed today. It looked very nice until about five seconds afterwards when I walked on it. Oh well. Nice while it lasted.
Today was better.
*"They have set fire to the bridge on which we are fighting," "The farmer to whom I gave the money became my friend," and "The arrows delighted Marcus," respectively.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Friday, December 15, 2006
Now tell me about your parents...
Today is the Consualia, a festival honoring Consus, the god of counsel, who protects the harvest while it's being stored. Mules, horses, and donkeys were exempt from all labor and were garlanded and led through Rome, and there were chariot races in the Circus Maximus, which I guess doesn't count as work. They even had mules race chariots.
Weird.
------------------------
Well, I'm at home. Today was a flurry of packing broken by a Mythology test. The room looked weird and stripped without it's usual junk. I also discovered large collections of dirt under the fridge, under my desk, under where Loquatia puts her shoes... Ugh. I need to wash that floor.
Five trips down the stairs later, Daddy brought me home. I've been here for less than four hours and I've already settled my fish in, eaten dinner (...fish), wrapped several Christmas presents, put in a load of laundry and cleaned my bedroom. And I watched Dr. Who with my dad. I feel empowered. But mostly tired.
And I got my work schedule from TJ Maxx today. I'm not working Sunday or Monday, which gives me time to clean the house for my sainted mother who can't tell her boss that she's sorry, she can't help them with yet another software glitch, since she won't get credit for it and she has a project due at the end of the month, and she was sort of intending to celebrate Christmas at some point, thank you very much (My mother has a history of overworking, but this is pretty bad even for her, so I promised I'd get the house clean for the holidays and subsequent neat-freak-grandmother visits if she'd pay me for it).
Tuesday and Friday I work from 11:00 to 8:00, so I don't have to wake up at a decent hour (yay!) but I still get home at one. Wednesday and Thursday it's 10:00 to 7:00, so I should be able to cook dinner for my mother as well (yes, we eat that late sometimes) if she's too busy. Then Saturday I work from 3:00 to 11:15 at night, because I told them I could work "any hours" and I'm guessing most of their employees have those "social life" things that I keep hearing about, which presumably occur on Saturday nights. Maybe you can buy those at TJ Maxx. I'm hoping for a discount.
Speaking of social lives, the Brother certainly has one- he's on a date AGAIN, like EVERY Friday night. He's pretty lucky that his girlfriend drives, or he'd never be able to afford the gas.
-----------------------
Anyway, I aced my Chem final (yeah, I was shocked too- and after all that worrying!). Like, 103 out of 105. Which means, not factoring in the 80 I got in lab, I have an A in the course. This is exciting.
And my mythology exam- I think I did tolerably on it despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that I was shaking out and massaging my hand by the time it was over. It was three essays in two hours. The first was on Theseus and why is he a hero, and that was fairly easy because I'd studied Theseus and I knew his legend fairly well anyway. Then there was a question comparing the female characters in Euripides' Medea, The Bacchae, and Alcestis, as well as the women of the Iliad and the female characters in Peter Schaffer's Equus. That was a little harder, as I could only remember one of the women in Equus and I hadn't known we had to study Alcestis or The Bacchae. Oops.
Final questions talked about the male heros in the Iliad and how they all caved in to peer pressure, or something. Then we had to scan WB Yeats' "Leda and the Swan." If you haven't read that poem, you should:
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By his dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
How can anybody, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins, engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
Okay, first of all, amazing imagery. Second of all, it's a poem about a woman having sex... with a bird...
This story is more popular than almost any other story in Greek mythology centering around a woman and a divine or unusual lover. It's more popular than that of Tyro, and Tyro's life was a whirlwind of love, lust, revenge, and politics. Yet it's pretty simple- just a footnote to the life of Helen of Troy and the Dioscuri (the Gemini, Castor and Pollux), who were produced from this liaison. Zeus came to Leda and raped or seduced her in the shape of a swan, and that's why Helen is so beautiful... But yet, incredibly popular in poetry, literature, and art.
I think it's because humans are naturally drawn to the perverted. We don't want to experience it ourselves, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't want to read about it, or imagine it. Why does every news magazine have an article about those poor kids locked up in cages by their parents? Because it's newsworthy. Because we want to hear about it. Humans fly to disturbing images and stories like moths. Trust me, I'm guilty of it too. It's why I know so much about serial killer psychology (thank you Wikipedia).
But... why? Why are we fascinated by the strange and taboo? Pretty much everything in human nature can be traced back to some fundamental reason; if everyone does it (in some way or another) there's usually a reason why we want to. In our ancient history, was there some advantage to learning about things that disgusted and frightened us? Maybe it's some sort of reconnaissance, like learning more about your enemy. Or maybe it's a way of making ourselves feel better (I'm not a bad parent, I mean, look at them!).
I don't know. I think we're jealous. Not of the action itself, god no. Instead, we're jealous of the fact that they aren't bound by our laws. Maybe we don't want to break the same social taboos that they did, but we still wish we could break some taboo- have the courage or the insanity to defy a tenet so crucial to our society's structure. Leda was seduced by a swan- bestiality. It wasn't her fault, unless you live in one of "those" nations, but still- she defied a huge taboo (two, actually, she also cheated on her husband). It's like the combination of a perversion fixation and a rape fantasy- the sense of doing something dirty and wrong, but it's not your fault, no one will blame you, there's nothing you can do.
I think Leda's story is a mirror into the human psyche, like much of mythology. She got to experience what we all fantasize about- a chance to ignore the laws of morality but not face the consequences. We like to hear about the crime, not the punishment, because the punishment reminds us that even those who break the laws are still bound to them. Leda was raped, so those laws don't apply. And that, I believe, is what fascinates us.
And if anyone asks if I want to screw a swan, I swear I will kill them. That's not the point. I'm not excusing my own actions, I seriously think most people do this. Of course, I could be as wrong as Freud and the Oedipus crap...
Weird.
------------------------
Well, I'm at home. Today was a flurry of packing broken by a Mythology test. The room looked weird and stripped without it's usual junk. I also discovered large collections of dirt under the fridge, under my desk, under where Loquatia puts her shoes... Ugh. I need to wash that floor.
Five trips down the stairs later, Daddy brought me home. I've been here for less than four hours and I've already settled my fish in, eaten dinner (...fish), wrapped several Christmas presents, put in a load of laundry and cleaned my bedroom. And I watched Dr. Who with my dad. I feel empowered. But mostly tired.
And I got my work schedule from TJ Maxx today. I'm not working Sunday or Monday, which gives me time to clean the house for my sainted mother who can't tell her boss that she's sorry, she can't help them with yet another software glitch, since she won't get credit for it and she has a project due at the end of the month, and she was sort of intending to celebrate Christmas at some point, thank you very much (My mother has a history of overworking, but this is pretty bad even for her, so I promised I'd get the house clean for the holidays and subsequent neat-freak-grandmother visits if she'd pay me for it).
Tuesday and Friday I work from 11:00 to 8:00, so I don't have to wake up at a decent hour (yay!) but I still get home at one. Wednesday and Thursday it's 10:00 to 7:00, so I should be able to cook dinner for my mother as well (yes, we eat that late sometimes) if she's too busy. Then Saturday I work from 3:00 to 11:15 at night, because I told them I could work "any hours" and I'm guessing most of their employees have those "social life" things that I keep hearing about, which presumably occur on Saturday nights. Maybe you can buy those at TJ Maxx. I'm hoping for a discount.
Speaking of social lives, the Brother certainly has one- he's on a date AGAIN, like EVERY Friday night. He's pretty lucky that his girlfriend drives, or he'd never be able to afford the gas.
-----------------------
Anyway, I aced my Chem final (yeah, I was shocked too- and after all that worrying!). Like, 103 out of 105. Which means, not factoring in the 80 I got in lab, I have an A in the course. This is exciting.
And my mythology exam- I think I did tolerably on it despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that I was shaking out and massaging my hand by the time it was over. It was three essays in two hours. The first was on Theseus and why is he a hero, and that was fairly easy because I'd studied Theseus and I knew his legend fairly well anyway. Then there was a question comparing the female characters in Euripides' Medea, The Bacchae, and Alcestis, as well as the women of the Iliad and the female characters in Peter Schaffer's Equus. That was a little harder, as I could only remember one of the women in Equus and I hadn't known we had to study Alcestis or The Bacchae. Oops.
Final questions talked about the male heros in the Iliad and how they all caved in to peer pressure, or something. Then we had to scan WB Yeats' "Leda and the Swan." If you haven't read that poem, you should:
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By his dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
How can anybody, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins, engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
Okay, first of all, amazing imagery. Second of all, it's a poem about a woman having sex... with a bird...
This story is more popular than almost any other story in Greek mythology centering around a woman and a divine or unusual lover. It's more popular than that of Tyro, and Tyro's life was a whirlwind of love, lust, revenge, and politics. Yet it's pretty simple- just a footnote to the life of Helen of Troy and the Dioscuri (the Gemini, Castor and Pollux), who were produced from this liaison. Zeus came to Leda and raped or seduced her in the shape of a swan, and that's why Helen is so beautiful... But yet, incredibly popular in poetry, literature, and art. I think it's because humans are naturally drawn to the perverted. We don't want to experience it ourselves, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't want to read about it, or imagine it. Why does every news magazine have an article about those poor kids locked up in cages by their parents? Because it's newsworthy. Because we want to hear about it. Humans fly to disturbing images and stories like moths. Trust me, I'm guilty of it too. It's why I know so much about serial killer psychology (thank you Wikipedia).
But... why? Why are we fascinated by the strange and taboo? Pretty much everything in human nature can be traced back to some fundamental reason; if everyone does it (in some way or another) there's usually a reason why we want to. In our ancient history, was there some advantage to learning about things that disgusted and frightened us? Maybe it's some sort of reconnaissance, like learning more about your enemy. Or maybe it's a way of making ourselves feel better (I'm not a bad parent, I mean, look at them!).
I don't know. I think we're jealous. Not of the action itself, god no. Instead, we're jealous of the fact that they aren't bound by our laws. Maybe we don't want to break the same social taboos that they did, but we still wish we could break some taboo- have the courage or the insanity to defy a tenet so crucial to our society's structure. Leda was seduced by a swan- bestiality. It wasn't her fault, unless you live in one of "those" nations, but still- she defied a huge taboo (two, actually, she also cheated on her husband). It's like the combination of a perversion fixation and a rape fantasy- the sense of doing something dirty and wrong, but it's not your fault, no one will blame you, there's nothing you can do.
I think Leda's story is a mirror into the human psyche, like much of mythology. She got to experience what we all fantasize about- a chance to ignore the laws of morality but not face the consequences. We like to hear about the crime, not the punishment, because the punishment reminds us that even those who break the laws are still bound to them. Leda was raped, so those laws don't apply. And that, I believe, is what fascinates us.
And if anyone asks if I want to screw a swan, I swear I will kill them. That's not the point. I'm not excusing my own actions, I seriously think most people do this. Of course, I could be as wrong as Freud and the Oedipus crap...
Friday, December 1, 2006
"You will develop a strange fascination with steamed vegetables."*
Today's the feast day of Neptune/Poseidon and Salacia/Amphitrite or of Venus/Aphrodite and Cupid/Eros. I assume you know the latter pair, but Amphitrite was the wife of Poseidon and a Nereid- a sea-nymph that looked like our idea of a mermaid. She didn't want to marry Poseidon so when she heard that he wanted to marry her, she swam off to the edge of the world and hid from him. Poseidon sent out all the sea creatures to hunt her down, and the one that found her was Delphin, a dolphin. Delphin convinced Amphitrite to come back and marry Poseidon, and she became queen of the sea. Delphin was immortalized and his image was hung in the sky as a constellation.
Amphitrite is interesting because unlike Hera, and despite the fact that this was the reason she didn't want to marry him in the first place, she really could care less if her husband slept around. And he did. A lot.
---------------------------------
Loquatia is NOT moving out. Tacita is, most likely. See, the current roommate of the girl Loquatia was going to room with decided she didn't want to leave Hubbard after all, and the girl decided it wasn't fair to kick out her roommate, so she apologized profusely to Loquatia, but told her that they weren't going to be able to room together after all.
Meanwhile, Tacita is meeting with Housing to try to get out of this dorm all together, and rejoin her friends over in Englehardt. I'm not sure why- it's not like it's that far away. I walk to Stoke on the weekends all the time, but as much as I love Mistake and Closer, I'm not gonna LIVE there. And only partially because Mistake and I get along best when we don't see each other every day. Also because I like this dorm. And it's easier to meet new friends if the old ones aren't hanging around. But, anyway. Tacita will most likely find a room in the dorm of her choice, and then Loquatia and I will room together next semester.
And yeah, I know that I said she irritates me sometimes, but honestly, I'd rather have a mildly irritating roommate that doesn't drink or smoke or stay up past midnight on school nights or watch TV all the time than try to deal with the Housing Lottery.
---------------------------------
Meanwhile, the Brother apparently does, in fact, know how to communicate. At least with his girlfriend. Because on Wednesday night, according to Mummy, he had a three-hour-long phone conversation with the girl. This amuses me greatly and mildly annoys our mother, as she can't get him to stick two words together in a crude facsimile of a sentence.
Mummy wants him to invite his girlfriend to her Prom, but he countered by mentioning that some of his senior buddies who can't get dates are having a LAN party that night (hey, could be worse, a friend of mine in high school had a "let's burn various chemicals in a massive bonfire" party on Prom night last year). Our mother spent a decent amount of time explaining a cardinal rule of dating, you don't go to a LAN party instead of Prom with your girlfriend, before she caught on that he was kidding.
Heh.
---------------------------------
My poem, my miserable poem... she is finally finished. All seventy lines in iambic-pentameter goodness. I posted it on my livejournal here, if you'd like to see the fruit of my labors. I also included the little pre-poem explanation I had to submit to the professor, since neither "Orpheus" nor "Eurydice" fits the meter and thus neither was included in the actual poem, so you'd probably not have the slightest clue what I was writing about.
But... done. And turned in. And no longer my problem. Niiiiiiiiice.
---------------------------------
Thanks to our floor winning the Floor Wars back in October, I was recently awarded a UNH Geeks T-shirt. The front says "UNH Geeks" with the Es as sigma signs (to promote geekiness), so it's pronounced "UNH Gssks." Yeah, we're so smart we don't NEED to understand what Greek letters we put on our clothing! The back says "Hubbard Hall- you're just jealous," which I'm sure you are.
I wore the T-shirt for the first time today. So, apparently, did a bunch of other kids. Hmm. This reminds me of high school when we all wore our French T-shirts on the same day (or the Physics t-shirts, but those had cheat codes on them and we wore them for exams). I feel like I was accidentally initiated into a secret gang or something, and soon Williamson ninjas will jump me on my way to class for wearing gang paraphernalia in public.
Among the other people who wore the T-shirt: Deandron, whom I haven't mentioned yet on this blog and I wanted an excuse to mention because I picked a name for him at last. He's the kid I know from high school, who lives down the hall and has all the hot roommates. And yes, "de andron" means "down the hall." I said I picked one, I didn't say it was amazingly creative. At least I didn't name him "Amicinlesebrosus," which, besides being a mouthful, means "attractive friends." He gets a real name because we're friends, I don't just talk about him behind his back like I do for most guys.
---------------------------------
I recently took the most inaccurate personality test EVER. Sooooo bad. Let's see... According to it, I value pride and money over career or love, and love is the least important thing to me. I want to date someone who is proud, I think sex "smells good, but tastes nasty" and my life is "salty," I'm in love with my mom and Candida is my "twin soul." Then it told me my life would improve if I sent the link to 42 people. Riiiiight. I think I need to talk to my grandmother about what constitutes a "good forward."
---------------------------------
It was ridiculously warm this morning, so I wandered around in a T-shirt. This was annoying enough- it's December, for Pete's sake. But then, naturally, during Latin class, it started to rain- no, pour. Like buckets. So I sprinted across campus in the pouring, FREEZING rain, in just a T-shirt. That was the day's excitement, I decided. Nothing else after that.
Consequently, I haven't left my hall since. Mummy's picking me up in two hours, and I felt like I should clean before I left, so my roommates didn't have to deal with my mess if I wasn't there causing it...
---------------------------------
One last thing before I finish. Today is World AIDS Day. So if you're religious, say a little prayer or something for all the people afflicted with that horrible disease that kills so many people worldwide every year. I know in my head that we can't be completely free of incurable disease, or we'd have worse overpopulation than we do now, but I wish, sometimes, that the diseases didn't have to be so miserable... or that fewer of the victims had to be children.
---------------------------------
*Don't worry, that wasn't in a cookie, that's my humorscope of the day. Il m'amuse.
Amphitrite is interesting because unlike Hera, and despite the fact that this was the reason she didn't want to marry him in the first place, she really could care less if her husband slept around. And he did. A lot.
---------------------------------
Loquatia is NOT moving out. Tacita is, most likely. See, the current roommate of the girl Loquatia was going to room with decided she didn't want to leave Hubbard after all, and the girl decided it wasn't fair to kick out her roommate, so she apologized profusely to Loquatia, but told her that they weren't going to be able to room together after all.
Meanwhile, Tacita is meeting with Housing to try to get out of this dorm all together, and rejoin her friends over in Englehardt. I'm not sure why- it's not like it's that far away. I walk to Stoke on the weekends all the time, but as much as I love Mistake and Closer, I'm not gonna LIVE there. And only partially because Mistake and I get along best when we don't see each other every day. Also because I like this dorm. And it's easier to meet new friends if the old ones aren't hanging around. But, anyway. Tacita will most likely find a room in the dorm of her choice, and then Loquatia and I will room together next semester.
And yeah, I know that I said she irritates me sometimes, but honestly, I'd rather have a mildly irritating roommate that doesn't drink or smoke or stay up past midnight on school nights or watch TV all the time than try to deal with the Housing Lottery.
---------------------------------
Meanwhile, the Brother apparently does, in fact, know how to communicate. At least with his girlfriend. Because on Wednesday night, according to Mummy, he had a three-hour-long phone conversation with the girl. This amuses me greatly and mildly annoys our mother, as she can't get him to stick two words together in a crude facsimile of a sentence.
Mummy wants him to invite his girlfriend to her Prom, but he countered by mentioning that some of his senior buddies who can't get dates are having a LAN party that night (hey, could be worse, a friend of mine in high school had a "let's burn various chemicals in a massive bonfire" party on Prom night last year). Our mother spent a decent amount of time explaining a cardinal rule of dating, you don't go to a LAN party instead of Prom with your girlfriend, before she caught on that he was kidding.
Heh.
---------------------------------
My poem, my miserable poem... she is finally finished. All seventy lines in iambic-pentameter goodness. I posted it on my livejournal here, if you'd like to see the fruit of my labors. I also included the little pre-poem explanation I had to submit to the professor, since neither "Orpheus" nor "Eurydice" fits the meter and thus neither was included in the actual poem, so you'd probably not have the slightest clue what I was writing about.
But... done. And turned in. And no longer my problem. Niiiiiiiiice.
---------------------------------
Thanks to our floor winning the Floor Wars back in October, I was recently awarded a UNH Geeks T-shirt. The front says "UNH Geeks" with the Es as sigma signs (to promote geekiness), so it's pronounced "UNH Gssks." Yeah, we're so smart we don't NEED to understand what Greek letters we put on our clothing! The back says "Hubbard Hall- you're just jealous," which I'm sure you are.
I wore the T-shirt for the first time today. So, apparently, did a bunch of other kids. Hmm. This reminds me of high school when we all wore our French T-shirts on the same day (or the Physics t-shirts, but those had cheat codes on them and we wore them for exams). I feel like I was accidentally initiated into a secret gang or something, and soon Williamson ninjas will jump me on my way to class for wearing gang paraphernalia in public.
Among the other people who wore the T-shirt: Deandron, whom I haven't mentioned yet on this blog and I wanted an excuse to mention because I picked a name for him at last. He's the kid I know from high school, who lives down the hall and has all the hot roommates. And yes, "de andron" means "down the hall." I said I picked one, I didn't say it was amazingly creative. At least I didn't name him "Amicinlesebrosus," which, besides being a mouthful, means "attractive friends." He gets a real name because we're friends, I don't just talk about him behind his back like I do for most guys.
---------------------------------
I recently took the most inaccurate personality test EVER. Sooooo bad. Let's see... According to it, I value pride and money over career or love, and love is the least important thing to me. I want to date someone who is proud, I think sex "smells good, but tastes nasty" and my life is "salty," I'm in love with my mom and Candida is my "twin soul." Then it told me my life would improve if I sent the link to 42 people. Riiiiight. I think I need to talk to my grandmother about what constitutes a "good forward."
---------------------------------
It was ridiculously warm this morning, so I wandered around in a T-shirt. This was annoying enough- it's December, for Pete's sake. But then, naturally, during Latin class, it started to rain- no, pour. Like buckets. So I sprinted across campus in the pouring, FREEZING rain, in just a T-shirt. That was the day's excitement, I decided. Nothing else after that.
Consequently, I haven't left my hall since. Mummy's picking me up in two hours, and I felt like I should clean before I left, so my roommates didn't have to deal with my mess if I wasn't there causing it...
---------------------------------
One last thing before I finish. Today is World AIDS Day. So if you're religious, say a little prayer or something for all the people afflicted with that horrible disease that kills so many people worldwide every year. I know in my head that we can't be completely free of incurable disease, or we'd have worse overpopulation than we do now, but I wish, sometimes, that the diseases didn't have to be so miserable... or that fewer of the victims had to be children.
---------------------------------
*Don't worry, that wasn't in a cookie, that's my humorscope of the day. Il m'amuse.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
"Your Deeds Today Will Be Your Memories Tomorrow"
Today is the Fili Saturni, a festival to honor the sons of Saturn/Cronus- Jupiter/Zeus, Neptune/Poseidon, and Pluto/Hades.
----------------------
I am sick. My throat kills and I generally feel like I'm falling apart. This also means that while I am STARVING, I can't actually eat, because my throat's too sore. This is NOT COOL. I need chicken noodle Ramen...
I was trying to choke down lunch today (luckily there was scampi, which was soft and oily so easy to handle) with Libentra, and we were approached (in the cafeteria, mind you) by an overly bubbly salesgirl who was offering a promotional deal to the first 100 girls who signed up. The deal was for a spa in Portsmouth, and it was for a hair analysis, style consultation, design cut, shampoo, and style, deep conditioning treatment, scalp massage, eyebrow shaping, manicure, pedicure, hand paraffin treatment, face-framing highlights, color gloss (no idea what this is, sounds like they spray-paint you, or maybe your car), light therapy treatment, skin analysis, and ultra sound corrective facial.
So it's pretty pricey, right? I mean, that's a lot of stuff. I know a manicure is like $15 and a facial can be like $60... No. It was $38. For the whole thing (well, excluding tips). I mean, like, damn. Good deal. So I'm thinking I know quite a few ladies who wouldn't mind some of this stuff, like my mom, my sister, and some of my friends (Candida would mind horribly, but besides her), and since it's Christmastime and all, I figured, eh, why not, and I bought it.
Now, naturally, I'm sitting here debating the choice... because I never make a impetuous decision without debating it six ways from Sunday after the fact. But I have decided not to regret this choice. I refuse. At least not until I call the spa to make an appointment and discover that I've been scammed or something. But they have a website, which validates the offer somewhat...
Meh. Worst happens, the salesgirl uses the credit card number and robs me, and then discovers that it's got a $500 limit on purchases so it was a waste of time.
That's NOT my Christmas present, though. That's just a nice thing I want to do for people. I still have Christmas shopping to do. I can't really do it yet, though, because I want to make sure I have a job and figure out how much I'll be earning before I start spending money. And yes, I know that I'm broke and I shouldn't have bought the spa thing, but honestly, it's probably worth it and more.
Oh, and by the way, if anyone knows someone who highlights their hair (with something besides henna), someone who might want to get face-framing highlights for free, let me know. Or, you know, if you feel you particularly deserve something on the above list (and are female). I haven't a clue what some of them are, anyway, you're welcome to those.
----------------------
A new word, which I am trying to get into common usage: mythologic, n. 1. The alternative form of logic, involving much leaping, that is used in mythology. 2. An oxymoron.
This is due to two conversations I was in today, in myth class and then in latin, both unrelated but along the same vein. The first discussed the logic of Leda having sex with a man and a swan in the same night, but all four of her children- two from each father- being born from eggs. Even the mortal ones. That was in myth class.
In Latin, we're translating Ovid's "Midas" from the Metamorphoses, and in the discussion of the god Dionysus and his role, the professor mentioned the story about Semele, Dionysus' mother, dying, and how Zeus sewed the unborn Dionysus into his thigh. One of the brighter (sarcasm here) students, a young man named for a city, asked, "Wait- is that logical? Like, could that happen biologically?"
Yes, honey. It's really possible for a man to deliver a child by sewing him into his thigh. Riiiiiight. Can we get some sex ed in here, stat!?
----------------------
I was saddened somewhat by the news that Blue Eyes won't be continuing in Latin next semester. Not that I'm definitely going into the class he would have taken anyway. Blue Eyes, by the way, is the young man who sits next to me in class. His eyes are very, very blue (hence the moniker). You will find that while I name friends and girls I talk about a lot by Latin names, like "Tacita" or "Libentra," I give Native-American-esque names to the guys that I'm not friends with but talk about semi-frequently. Hence names like "Blue Eyes." Or "Incredibly Hot Guy," who's in most of my classes and lives on my floor.
By the way, Blue Eyes is a nice guy, who has actually occasionally tried to talk to me, which is why I'm kinda saddened that he doesn't like Latin enough to continue. It's not just for the eyes. I'm not shallow... all the time.
---------------------
Well, that's about it for today, I guess. I have a lab report to finish and then the pre-lab, and I have to work on that miserable poem. I'm about halfway done at this point, I think. I still need Libentra to check it over, though, and scan it to let me know if it sounds iambic enough. That poem shall be the death of me.
16 Days until Break!
----------------------
I am sick. My throat kills and I generally feel like I'm falling apart. This also means that while I am STARVING, I can't actually eat, because my throat's too sore. This is NOT COOL. I need chicken noodle Ramen...
I was trying to choke down lunch today (luckily there was scampi, which was soft and oily so easy to handle) with Libentra, and we were approached (in the cafeteria, mind you) by an overly bubbly salesgirl who was offering a promotional deal to the first 100 girls who signed up. The deal was for a spa in Portsmouth, and it was for a hair analysis, style consultation, design cut, shampoo, and style, deep conditioning treatment, scalp massage, eyebrow shaping, manicure, pedicure, hand paraffin treatment, face-framing highlights, color gloss (no idea what this is, sounds like they spray-paint you, or maybe your car), light therapy treatment, skin analysis, and ultra sound corrective facial.
So it's pretty pricey, right? I mean, that's a lot of stuff. I know a manicure is like $15 and a facial can be like $60... No. It was $38. For the whole thing (well, excluding tips). I mean, like, damn. Good deal. So I'm thinking I know quite a few ladies who wouldn't mind some of this stuff, like my mom, my sister, and some of my friends (Candida would mind horribly, but besides her), and since it's Christmastime and all, I figured, eh, why not, and I bought it.
Now, naturally, I'm sitting here debating the choice... because I never make a impetuous decision without debating it six ways from Sunday after the fact. But I have decided not to regret this choice. I refuse. At least not until I call the spa to make an appointment and discover that I've been scammed or something. But they have a website, which validates the offer somewhat...
Meh. Worst happens, the salesgirl uses the credit card number and robs me, and then discovers that it's got a $500 limit on purchases so it was a waste of time.
That's NOT my Christmas present, though. That's just a nice thing I want to do for people. I still have Christmas shopping to do. I can't really do it yet, though, because I want to make sure I have a job and figure out how much I'll be earning before I start spending money. And yes, I know that I'm broke and I shouldn't have bought the spa thing, but honestly, it's probably worth it and more.
Oh, and by the way, if anyone knows someone who highlights their hair (with something besides henna), someone who might want to get face-framing highlights for free, let me know. Or, you know, if you feel you particularly deserve something on the above list (and are female). I haven't a clue what some of them are, anyway, you're welcome to those.
----------------------
A new word, which I am trying to get into common usage: mythologic, n. 1. The alternative form of logic, involving much leaping, that is used in mythology. 2. An oxymoron.
This is due to two conversations I was in today, in myth class and then in latin, both unrelated but along the same vein. The first discussed the logic of Leda having sex with a man and a swan in the same night, but all four of her children- two from each father- being born from eggs. Even the mortal ones. That was in myth class.
In Latin, we're translating Ovid's "Midas" from the Metamorphoses, and in the discussion of the god Dionysus and his role, the professor mentioned the story about Semele, Dionysus' mother, dying, and how Zeus sewed the unborn Dionysus into his thigh. One of the brighter (sarcasm here) students, a young man named for a city, asked, "Wait- is that logical? Like, could that happen biologically?"
Yes, honey. It's really possible for a man to deliver a child by sewing him into his thigh. Riiiiiight. Can we get some sex ed in here, stat!?
----------------------
I was saddened somewhat by the news that Blue Eyes won't be continuing in Latin next semester. Not that I'm definitely going into the class he would have taken anyway. Blue Eyes, by the way, is the young man who sits next to me in class. His eyes are very, very blue (hence the moniker). You will find that while I name friends and girls I talk about a lot by Latin names, like "Tacita" or "Libentra," I give Native-American-esque names to the guys that I'm not friends with but talk about semi-frequently. Hence names like "Blue Eyes." Or "Incredibly Hot Guy," who's in most of my classes and lives on my floor.
By the way, Blue Eyes is a nice guy, who has actually occasionally tried to talk to me, which is why I'm kinda saddened that he doesn't like Latin enough to continue. It's not just for the eyes. I'm not shallow... all the time.
---------------------
Well, that's about it for today, I guess. I have a lab report to finish and then the pre-lab, and I have to work on that miserable poem. I'm about halfway done at this point, I think. I still need Libentra to check it over, though, and scan it to let me know if it sounds iambic enough. That poem shall be the death of me.
16 Days until Break!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
"A Different World Cannot Be Built By Indifferent People"
Today is the Egyptian feast of Hathor-Sekhmet. As in, Egyptian celebration of the fertility goddess Hathor. So pretty standard fertility rites. Knock yourselves out.
--------------------------
I have this really bad habit of eavesdropping, which is to say that I have a bad habit of not not listening, and consequently overhearing stuff that was not intended for my ears. This is especially true for when my roommates have phone conversations in the room when I'm studying. It's not that I'm trying to overhear, I just do.
Anyway, normally nothing of interest is said, but last night Loquatia was talking on the phone with her mother, and she described this movie she'd seen in sociology about transgendered people, and I got the distinct impression that she was seriously questioning the tenets of her Christian faith regarding them. She was calling to ask her mother what Christians were supposed to think about people who despite their biological gender, considered themselves the opposite gender from a very young age. As in, long before it could be a result of rebelliousness or something.
This struck me for two reasons: first, that she needed to call her mother to know what to think. That's the only problem I have with religion: some followers believe that all their thoughts have to be dictated by the faith. But more important, I think, is that she was thinking about transgenderation to begin with. That's why we're at college- to learn and to broaden our horizons. If Loquatia could come out of school with doubts about the validity of anti-transgender claims, then clearly her education was worth it. Whatever the pastor may say.
--------------------------
Countdown to Christmas Break: 17 Days.
I'm working on my final project for Myth, the epic poem in iambic pentameter. It's due Now, "And you did in distress no more sing sweet" may be iambic pentameter (or close), but it's lousy grammar... See, I wrote the whole thing first, a seventy-line poem about Orpheus and Eurydice, in something vaguely resembling pentameter, at least, if not iambs. Now I'm going through and carefully correcting each line to the proper meter. So "Who swiftly to Hades Hermes did take" becomes "Who swift to Hades Hermes Guide did take" and the aforementioned line was originally the much more logical-sounding "And you in sadness no more did sing sweet."
Writing seventy lines of poetry in rhyming couplets took me half an hour. Correcting the first nine of those lines to something close to iambic pentameter took me an hour and a half.
It's gonna be a fun week.
--------------------------
Some bright individual has either abandoned an egg salad sandwich in a particularly secretive spot, or exploded a stink bomb on the main stairwell. It smells SO BAD. Nasty. I really hope they live in this dorm, so they have to deal with the effects of this prank like the rest of us...
--------------------------
Loquatia is listening to a Christian Radio talk show, right now, and they're telling a story- it's for kids, but she grew up on it and she loves it. It's weird, though. They're telling the story of this family that gets robbed on Christmas Eve and how they "pull together with the spirit of Christmas" and sit around reading the Bible about the birth of Jesus.
Now, I dunno about you, but if I had a family and was robbed on Christmas Day, I'd give my kids a hug and call up Auntie Shrewd or someone, tell her what happened, get the turkey out of the fridge (because no one would steal a raw turkey, I mean, come on) and go celebrate at her house, then replace the gifts a few days later. I certainly wouldn't expect my kids to sit around while I told them Nativity stories.
This is why I don't like Christian talk radio.
Speaking of the birth of Jesus, I have decided that I want to see The Nativity Story, when it comes out in theaters. I'm not Christian but I like that story, and it looks like they took an interesting approach to it, focusing on Joseph and Mary's views of the situation rather than rambling on about the glory of God. The problem is that I haven't a clue who I'd go with: I don't go to movies alone, and my usual movie buddy, Shrewd, most likely doesn't want to go to a Christmas movie. Also, whoever I go with would have to deal with my after-movie discussion, so that rules out anyone who is particularly sensitive to having a heathen discuss their faith. Which rules out my dad, who is just now starting to regret not raising us Congregationalist. I think it was the conversation Shrewd and I had about selling our souls to the Devil.
Maybe my mom would go with me.
------------------------
Now I have to go read for Myth. We're supposed to read Book 1, 2, and 3 in the Iliad. One problem: We weren't given the Iliad. We were given the Odyssey. So I have to go buy a book. And I'm doing that now, because the talk radio has switched to someone ranting about how we'd all go to hell if not for the grace of God, and we don't deserve anything that God gives us, and how we're all inherently a bunch of lustful, slothful, greedy liars. The latter part may be true, but honestly, I can only take so much preaching...
--------------------------
I have this really bad habit of eavesdropping, which is to say that I have a bad habit of not not listening, and consequently overhearing stuff that was not intended for my ears. This is especially true for when my roommates have phone conversations in the room when I'm studying. It's not that I'm trying to overhear, I just do.
Anyway, normally nothing of interest is said, but last night Loquatia was talking on the phone with her mother, and she described this movie she'd seen in sociology about transgendered people, and I got the distinct impression that she was seriously questioning the tenets of her Christian faith regarding them. She was calling to ask her mother what Christians were supposed to think about people who despite their biological gender, considered themselves the opposite gender from a very young age. As in, long before it could be a result of rebelliousness or something.
This struck me for two reasons: first, that she needed to call her mother to know what to think. That's the only problem I have with religion: some followers believe that all their thoughts have to be dictated by the faith. But more important, I think, is that she was thinking about transgenderation to begin with. That's why we're at college- to learn and to broaden our horizons. If Loquatia could come out of school with doubts about the validity of anti-transgender claims, then clearly her education was worth it. Whatever the pastor may say.
--------------------------
Countdown to Christmas Break: 17 Days.
I'm working on my final project for Myth, the epic poem in iambic pentameter. It's due Now, "And you did in distress no more sing sweet" may be iambic pentameter (or close), but it's lousy grammar... See, I wrote the whole thing first, a seventy-line poem about Orpheus and Eurydice, in something vaguely resembling pentameter, at least, if not iambs. Now I'm going through and carefully correcting each line to the proper meter. So "Who swiftly to Hades Hermes did take" becomes "Who swift to Hades Hermes Guide did take" and the aforementioned line was originally the much more logical-sounding "And you in sadness no more did sing sweet."
Writing seventy lines of poetry in rhyming couplets took me half an hour. Correcting the first nine of those lines to something close to iambic pentameter took me an hour and a half.
It's gonna be a fun week.
--------------------------
Some bright individual has either abandoned an egg salad sandwich in a particularly secretive spot, or exploded a stink bomb on the main stairwell. It smells SO BAD. Nasty. I really hope they live in this dorm, so they have to deal with the effects of this prank like the rest of us...
--------------------------
Loquatia is listening to a Christian Radio talk show, right now, and they're telling a story- it's for kids, but she grew up on it and she loves it. It's weird, though. They're telling the story of this family that gets robbed on Christmas Eve and how they "pull together with the spirit of Christmas" and sit around reading the Bible about the birth of Jesus.
Now, I dunno about you, but if I had a family and was robbed on Christmas Day, I'd give my kids a hug and call up Auntie Shrewd or someone, tell her what happened, get the turkey out of the fridge (because no one would steal a raw turkey, I mean, come on) and go celebrate at her house, then replace the gifts a few days later. I certainly wouldn't expect my kids to sit around while I told them Nativity stories.
This is why I don't like Christian talk radio.
Speaking of the birth of Jesus, I have decided that I want to see The Nativity Story, when it comes out in theaters. I'm not Christian but I like that story, and it looks like they took an interesting approach to it, focusing on Joseph and Mary's views of the situation rather than rambling on about the glory of God. The problem is that I haven't a clue who I'd go with: I don't go to movies alone, and my usual movie buddy, Shrewd, most likely doesn't want to go to a Christmas movie. Also, whoever I go with would have to deal with my after-movie discussion, so that rules out anyone who is particularly sensitive to having a heathen discuss their faith. Which rules out my dad, who is just now starting to regret not raising us Congregationalist. I think it was the conversation Shrewd and I had about selling our souls to the Devil.
Maybe my mom would go with me.
------------------------
Now I have to go read for Myth. We're supposed to read Book 1, 2, and 3 in the Iliad. One problem: We weren't given the Iliad. We were given the Odyssey. So I have to go buy a book. And I'm doing that now, because the talk radio has switched to someone ranting about how we'd all go to hell if not for the grace of God, and we don't deserve anything that God gives us, and how we're all inherently a bunch of lustful, slothful, greedy liars. The latter part may be true, but honestly, I can only take so much preaching...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
