Why did the late 19th century suck so much when it came to academia and history? The more I read, the more amply distorted views of historical events and explainations all seem to come out of the 1870-1910 time period. Current example: the English Reformation. Until the 1970s we seem to have lived with this view of:
The Reformation came to England, and it was good. It was godly. Catholicism was morally bankrupt, no one believed in any of it, anti-clericalism was rampant, and besides, it was really just old "celtic" pagan worship smooshed into the Chruch. You can see it in the cult of saints! All saints and Mary, no Jesus. Christianity started out ok, but by 300 it was corrupt (by all of these celtic and gaulish invaders) and it's been downhill ever since. Enter the Lollards, who noticed everything wrong and preped the soil for the seeds of dissent. Yeah, there was Henry and his wives, but the ground was ready for the Reformation anyway (remember Lollards, soil analogy, and duh! we're Anglican now so we must have always wanted to be).. the good English people just needed the smallest indication that they could overthrow Catholicism and it would be all icon-burning from there on out... of course those icons are really PAGAN idols, so it's all good. We had a little blip when Mary took the throne, but everyone hated her and her Spanish husband and she died, so moving on to ELIZABETH - the single greatest Protestant monarch! She beat the pants off the Spanish, protected England formt he papists and just generally kicked ass. End of Story, (don't look to closely into the 17th century...).
Of course, in the last 30 years the cultural and social historical turns overturned much of this narrative. There are now several English reformations, Catholicism in England really flourished up until Henry VIII's split, and arguable through his death. It's possible that the schsm could have been resolved, and that had Mary lived longer England would have gone back into the Catholic fold. It would have been a reformed version of Catholicism, but Catholicism nonetheless. There is also furhter evidence that on the whole your everday Englishman and women generally went with the authority of their worldly rulers rather than their spiritual conviction (at least through the early years of Elizabeth). Abandoning Catholicism did not necessarily mean one became an enthusiastic Protestant. There are numerous accounts of conversions, but on the whole people did what they always do and went with the flow.
What surprises me the most is the current, I would argue non-academic, mainstream misperception of the late medieval Catholic Church, specifically the accusations of "paganism" in late Medieval Catholicism. This is were the 19th century has messed things up. Late 19th century folklorists,looking for 19th revived forms of psuedo Celtic religious "practice" in medieval Catholicism "found it" in practices. TThere is the tendency to take the Reformation-Era Protestant charge of paganism (which was referring to Roman paganism) and read into it a 19th century mystified Celtic paganism, in which pagan rituals are searched for in festivals that were often not only regular Christian practice, but many which had been developed as recently as the 14th century. This extends to view of Guy Fawkes Day, which as been attributed to a pagan bonfire festival, but was really “derived directly from the misfortunes of Guy Fawkes and his partners and not from any pagan tradition of kindling bonfires and burning effigies at the onset of winter” (Hutton, 183). Of the major holy days w/in the traditional religious calendar year, only the celebration of New Year's on Jan 1st and the decorating of Churches/altars with greenery canbe difinitively traced to Roman practice. Yes, other holiday may not be found in the New Testament, but that doesn't mean that they were some how wrenched from a long-dead Celtic or native pagan tradition either. They developed as part of Christianity, Christian life based on good works, and Christian practice. Heck, most of them were as a way of 1) marking the seasons and 2) fundraising for the parish. I guess it comes down to whether you believe that all Christian practices should only be practiced if they can be found in the New Testament - which really limits "real Christianity" to not developing until 1500 years after the life of Christ. As a historian, I find it hard to believe that millions of people got it wrong until Luther (or Huss or Wycliff) came along. Talk about historical removal from your sources... And I think, hope, that most historians today can put their religious beliefs, whatever they may be, aside as they dig into their material. The revisionist work on the Reformation seems to bear that out... but it still hasn't seeped down into the mainstream or even secondary school levels of education.
So on a final note, as someone who believes that all religions are a human construction - and therefore all equally fantasy - I find it funny that I'm still reading some histories where people are fighting over whose sky god is more real.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
Which Student Are You?
The more you teach the more you end up wondering - which student in your class were you when you were "their age"? The Joker? The Wallflower? The Quiet Know-It All? The Talkative Know-It-All? The Slacker?
I think I found a version of myself in one of my classes this year. I've worked with this student in the past, and watching her over the last several quarters I see versions of myself in her section performance. She's smart, confident, well-read, and speaks in class frequently. I can tell there are several things she knows more about on this subject than myself - something she knows, too. She's one of the few students who has 1) genuinely stumped me and 2) asks really deep probing questions. In addition to the wonderful qualities I see in her, I find a need to reign her in. And although I think she is more restrained than I was at her age, my interactions with her in section remind me of myself in her position.
I know I talk too much in my own seminars (that I take, not teach). I've felt the reigning in that profs have tried to do with me, and looking back, I'm sort of astonished with the forceful way in which I generally verbally fought back. I completely dominated discussions, and got away with it because I was pretty much always prepared (ok, there were a *few* books I hadn't read for class but talked about anyway) and I have a knack with talking and public speaking. I wanted to be impressive by my profs. I wanted them to notice and remember me. And for the most part, they did. But it also makes me think: did I drive them crazy? Probably. Was I the student in class that stood out, not for insightful comments of solid preparation, but for sheer talkativeness? I've found that generally, at least in my classes, talkativeness in class does go hand in hand with preparation for class and some thinking on the material - but I guess what I'm asking is whether I just came across as a bully? I had and made friends in my classes, so I'm not figuring that everyone hated me or anything like that... but the more I teach the more I wonder about what kind of student I am. I know my strengths and weaknesses as a student; I talk and I talk too much. Am I now at the point where I need to go about changing them?*
*this is more rhetorical than looking for direct input, however if I've managed to be a total bey-otch in class and no one ever bothered to tell me, you can go ahead and let me know in the comments.
I think I found a version of myself in one of my classes this year. I've worked with this student in the past, and watching her over the last several quarters I see versions of myself in her section performance. She's smart, confident, well-read, and speaks in class frequently. I can tell there are several things she knows more about on this subject than myself - something she knows, too. She's one of the few students who has 1) genuinely stumped me and 2) asks really deep probing questions. In addition to the wonderful qualities I see in her, I find a need to reign her in. And although I think she is more restrained than I was at her age, my interactions with her in section remind me of myself in her position.
I know I talk too much in my own seminars (that I take, not teach). I've felt the reigning in that profs have tried to do with me, and looking back, I'm sort of astonished with the forceful way in which I generally verbally fought back. I completely dominated discussions, and got away with it because I was pretty much always prepared (ok, there were a *few* books I hadn't read for class but talked about anyway) and I have a knack with talking and public speaking. I wanted to be impressive by my profs. I wanted them to notice and remember me. And for the most part, they did. But it also makes me think: did I drive them crazy? Probably. Was I the student in class that stood out, not for insightful comments of solid preparation, but for sheer talkativeness? I've found that generally, at least in my classes, talkativeness in class does go hand in hand with preparation for class and some thinking on the material - but I guess what I'm asking is whether I just came across as a bully? I had and made friends in my classes, so I'm not figuring that everyone hated me or anything like that... but the more I teach the more I wonder about what kind of student I am. I know my strengths and weaknesses as a student; I talk and I talk too much. Am I now at the point where I need to go about changing them?*
*this is more rhetorical than looking for direct input, however if I've managed to be a total bey-otch in class and no one ever bothered to tell me, you can go ahead and let me know in the comments.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
If you could have any superpower - Grad school style
1) Photographic memory combined with speed reading with full retention-
4, 400 page books by Monday? No problem! I have to memorize French grammar and a full dictionary of necessary words and phrases? It'll be done by supper. The ability to speed up and fully retain the sheer amount of information we try to squeeze into to 10% of our brains we use would be priceless. It doesn't mean we could necessarily think more deeply or write any faster, but the memory upgrade would be a big help.
2) Flying or some sort of internal teleportation over space - need to go check out an archive in Paris? Plane tickets cost $1500? You'd have to figure out how to lug all of your grad gear (laptop, cell phone, digital camera for archive work), but you'd avoid the airport, save money, and probably get some shits and giggles out of scaring the crap out of people.
3) The ability to fend off cold and flu viruses. Bacterial infections I'm ok with. Take some antibiotics or sulfa meds and you'll be ok. It's the stupid rhinoviruses that lodge themselves in our poorly designed sinus cavity that just kill me. I've been sick for a week. I was better yesterday, now worse today. Focus is gone, my heartrate skyrockets while walking around campus, and it feels like my left eye ball is about to pop out of my head. If we could develop magic immune systems that would prevent us from catching the colds that all of the lovely students bring back with them it would make me a very happy camper.
4, 400 page books by Monday? No problem! I have to memorize French grammar and a full dictionary of necessary words and phrases? It'll be done by supper. The ability to speed up and fully retain the sheer amount of information we try to squeeze into to 10% of our brains we use would be priceless. It doesn't mean we could necessarily think more deeply or write any faster, but the memory upgrade would be a big help.
2) Flying or some sort of internal teleportation over space - need to go check out an archive in Paris? Plane tickets cost $1500? You'd have to figure out how to lug all of your grad gear (laptop, cell phone, digital camera for archive work), but you'd avoid the airport, save money, and probably get some shits and giggles out of scaring the crap out of people.
3) The ability to fend off cold and flu viruses. Bacterial infections I'm ok with. Take some antibiotics or sulfa meds and you'll be ok. It's the stupid rhinoviruses that lodge themselves in our poorly designed sinus cavity that just kill me. I've been sick for a week. I was better yesterday, now worse today. Focus is gone, my heartrate skyrockets while walking around campus, and it feels like my left eye ball is about to pop out of my head. If we could develop magic immune systems that would prevent us from catching the colds that all of the lovely students bring back with them it would make me a very happy camper.
Friday, September 28, 2007
I want a cookie
that is all. i blame it on the weather and the irresistible goodness of melting chocolate surrounded by the exquisite marriage fo butter to flour and sugar.
-bloody diet
-bloody diet
Weather
It's cloudy, foggy, and drizzly up on the Hill today. While in the Bunker with kungfu I went on rant that expressed my extreme discontentedness with weather of this sort. I'm funny about weather: I don't like too many clear and sunny days, high heat and humidity makes me rather cranky, but too many overcast days makes me depressed, and the sogginess that comes with rain (which I genuinely love when I'm at home eating fondue, baking cookies, drinking wine or hot chocolate, etc) drives me nuts. At the same time, I adjust pretty easily to the weather environments I've been exposed to. The sogginess factor seems to be worse here, I think because of the drainage issue crossed with my shortness issue, which means that water gets absorbed up my pants making me wet from the knees down. Plus there is that it is cold outside but not cold enough so I'm sweating in my raincoat, which is also rather uncomfortable. Maybe I like rain when it's actually cold (colder?).
So what do I like? And why? I like my weather like I like my underware: varied. ( would have gone with an analogy with men, but I'm currently totally stuck on one particular variety of the male species and I think I'm going to keep him for quite a while). This makes up in part my current (and I think lasting) preference for Northern California versus Southern Californis. I like seasons*. I like the change from winter to summer, and most of all, I love the fall. My ideal weather day is semi-cloudy, not with whispy clouds or solid grey, but with lumps of cumulonimbus across the sky - much like a storm breaking up the day after a heavy rain. I like my weather warm at midday, but cool in the evenings and late afternoons. Warm enough during the day to wear short sleeves or a tank top, but not so warm that if you were to go running you'd break a sweat before you even began. Most of all, I love the diffused? diluted? light that we get in the fall. I certainly appreciate warm summer days and nights - when you can show a little skin and not have to bring a coat. And a good solid winter - when you actually have to wear a coat. But I still love fall the best.
*I know all East Coast readers will decry California's lack of seasons, but I argue that we don't have to hold East Coast seasons and THE seasonal standard for this country. We have a definite difference here between the four seaons in terms of temperature, vegitation, and percitipation. Yes we don't have snow or super cold weather, or boiling heats with humidity - but we do have changes. Our winter may not be the same as your winter, but that doesn't mean we don't have one.
So what do I like? And why? I like my weather like I like my underware: varied. ( would have gone with an analogy with men, but I'm currently totally stuck on one particular variety of the male species and I think I'm going to keep him for quite a while). This makes up in part my current (and I think lasting) preference for Northern California versus Southern Californis. I like seasons*. I like the change from winter to summer, and most of all, I love the fall. My ideal weather day is semi-cloudy, not with whispy clouds or solid grey, but with lumps of cumulonimbus across the sky - much like a storm breaking up the day after a heavy rain. I like my weather warm at midday, but cool in the evenings and late afternoons. Warm enough during the day to wear short sleeves or a tank top, but not so warm that if you were to go running you'd break a sweat before you even began. Most of all, I love the diffused? diluted? light that we get in the fall. I certainly appreciate warm summer days and nights - when you can show a little skin and not have to bring a coat. And a good solid winter - when you actually have to wear a coat. But I still love fall the best.
*I know all East Coast readers will decry California's lack of seasons, but I argue that we don't have to hold East Coast seasons and THE seasonal standard for this country. We have a definite difference here between the four seaons in terms of temperature, vegitation, and percitipation. Yes we don't have snow or super cold weather, or boiling heats with humidity - but we do have changes. Our winter may not be the same as your winter, but that doesn't mean we don't have one.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
"fondue en croix" won't make you fat
I'm back in ballet and it feels so good. I'm not going to bore my poor readers to death by going on at length, I'll just say that I love it and didn't realize how much I missed not dancing next year. I'm not even as rusty as I expected to be, so good news all around.
First day of classes, or class as the case may be. My rof was out of town so I got to lead the introduction to his lecture course. it was short, quick, to the point, and let me get back to my own work. I'm somehow going to read 2 400+pg books on the English Reformation by Wednesday. Go go gadget brain...
But while I'm trying to balance copious amounts of reading, at least I get work on perfecting my physical balance as well. Running, at times, lets me focus my thoughts and musings. For me, being alone with my self and running can provide clarity to a seemingly complicated situation. Ballet, on the other hand, takes me away completely. I stop thinking about the historiographical issues of the Reformation, or my obsessive use of the passive construction in my draft writing, and only concentrate on which butt muscles I'm supposed to engage at the proper moment to pull myself onto my toe, spin around a few times, and land w/o killing myself. I feel graceful, beautiful, and no one gives two shits if I can read Derrida in the original French. You do have to put up with the occasional "What did you eat today? Crackers and water? Me too!", but it's worth it for 3 hours of body peace a week.
First day of classes, or class as the case may be. My rof was out of town so I got to lead the introduction to his lecture course. it was short, quick, to the point, and let me get back to my own work. I'm somehow going to read 2 400+pg books on the English Reformation by Wednesday. Go go gadget brain...
But while I'm trying to balance copious amounts of reading, at least I get work on perfecting my physical balance as well. Running, at times, lets me focus my thoughts and musings. For me, being alone with my self and running can provide clarity to a seemingly complicated situation. Ballet, on the other hand, takes me away completely. I stop thinking about the historiographical issues of the Reformation, or my obsessive use of the passive construction in my draft writing, and only concentrate on which butt muscles I'm supposed to engage at the proper moment to pull myself onto my toe, spin around a few times, and land w/o killing myself. I feel graceful, beautiful, and no one gives two shits if I can read Derrida in the original French. You do have to put up with the occasional "What did you eat today? Crackers and water? Me too!", but it's worth it for 3 hours of body peace a week.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Busy doing nothing
I feel busy, but I don't think I'm actually really doing anything at all. Quick update:
1) backpacking in Big Basin = good times. It was my first backpacking trip and it was a blast. Thanks to L,sandychili and Swissastro we got to camp before sundown, consumed a veritable feast, and enjoyed a pleasant hike back to base camp.
2) the new kids are here. So far they are continuing my university's winning combination of brining in totally rad, excited, and beautiful people.
3) L's birthday present arrived: a super thoughtful, super cool gift of interchangable knitting needles! I'm betting that only KnottyHistorian will truly appreciate the wonderfulness of tis gift (as I've been drooling over her set for months now). You can see them here . He went with the beautiful multi colored wood needles after haunting knitting message boards for several days and doing some research on which would be the best material for knitters who get sore wrists. In addition to feeling wonderful, the multi-colored wood tips and rockin' purple chords make the set seriously badass. I haven't used them yet, but you can bet I will.
3a) in other knitting news: I officially don't like knitting with cotton and will try to avoid doing so far into the future. It's heavy, not nearly as elastic as wool and other animal (or even acrylic) fibers, and tires my wrists out. I've been working in Big Bad Baby Blanket for one of our friends and become quite a pain.
A more thoughtful post in the near future.
1) backpacking in Big Basin = good times. It was my first backpacking trip and it was a blast. Thanks to L,sandychili and Swissastro we got to camp before sundown, consumed a veritable feast, and enjoyed a pleasant hike back to base camp.
2) the new kids are here. So far they are continuing my university's winning combination of brining in totally rad, excited, and beautiful people.
3) L's birthday present arrived: a super thoughtful, super cool gift of interchangable knitting needles! I'm betting that only KnottyHistorian will truly appreciate the wonderfulness of tis gift (as I've been drooling over her set for months now). You can see them here . He went with the beautiful multi colored wood needles after haunting knitting message boards for several days and doing some research on which would be the best material for knitters who get sore wrists. In addition to feeling wonderful, the multi-colored wood tips and rockin' purple chords make the set seriously badass. I haven't used them yet, but you can bet I will.
3a) in other knitting news: I officially don't like knitting with cotton and will try to avoid doing so far into the future. It's heavy, not nearly as elastic as wool and other animal (or even acrylic) fibers, and tires my wrists out. I've been working in Big Bad Baby Blanket for one of our friends and become quite a pain.
A more thoughtful post in the near future.
Friday, September 14, 2007
time delayed:New age, new year
This should have posted on the 14th, but I forgot about it, so here it is:
For all my Jewish readers: L'Shanah tovah! May you have a sweet and healthy new year! For my non-Jewish readers, Sept 12 marked the beginning of the Jewish New Year. As a perpetual student (with a 4 year hiatus), beginning the new year in the fall just makes a lot of sense. The seasons change, you start your fall quarter/semester, and the cycle goes on. Jan 1 never really did much for me in terms of the new year really feeling like something new and different. Maybe painful and hungover, but not new and different.
Yesterday I also started a new year. 28 years ago, my mom had suffered through 30+ hours of labor and the shining example of humanity that is me, was born. As you can see, I've grown more modest in my old age.
Favourite things about being 28:
-I gain all that much more authority in speaking disparagingly about "today's youth" and my undergrads in particular.
-I like both the number 2 and 8. Nice, even, round numbers.
-Last year was the year I got my MA, this year will be the year I become ABD.
As anyone who has read this blog, or knows me in person, knows: I love food. I love to cook and I love to eat (which is also why I've taught myself to love to run...). For my birthday, L cooked a fabulous meal out of two of my favourite, and tasty, dead creatures: New Orleans style bbq shrimp and steak.
For all my Jewish readers: L'Shanah tovah! May you have a sweet and healthy new year! For my non-Jewish readers, Sept 12 marked the beginning of the Jewish New Year. As a perpetual student (with a 4 year hiatus), beginning the new year in the fall just makes a lot of sense. The seasons change, you start your fall quarter/semester, and the cycle goes on. Jan 1 never really did much for me in terms of the new year really feeling like something new and different. Maybe painful and hungover, but not new and different.
Yesterday I also started a new year. 28 years ago, my mom had suffered through 30+ hours of labor and the shining example of humanity that is me, was born. As you can see, I've grown more modest in my old age.
Favourite things about being 28:
-I gain all that much more authority in speaking disparagingly about "today's youth" and my undergrads in particular.
-I like both the number 2 and 8. Nice, even, round numbers.
-Last year was the year I got my MA, this year will be the year I become ABD.
As anyone who has read this blog, or knows me in person, knows: I love food. I love to cook and I love to eat (which is also why I've taught myself to love to run...). For my birthday, L cooked a fabulous meal out of two of my favourite, and tasty, dead creatures: New Orleans style bbq shrimp and steak.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
oh baby, oh baby baby
Our first set of friends are having their first baby. The pregnant one is in her third trimester and just started a blog. I'm sharing the blog-love: http://connornicholasdeclario.blogspot.com
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Hot Fresh Loaves
My wonderful beautiful mother, KathysIrishRed, came to visit me earlier in the summer. While she was here we baked one of my latest baking obsessions: baguettes. It all started when a friend turned me onto this blog and Foodiefarmgirl's amazing beer bread. From there I drifted to French Women Don't Get Fat and the recipe the author provides for baguettes. My first attempts were solid on flavor but lacked the right texture. I then followed Foodiefarmgirl's advice for bread making technique and got the texture, but lost some of the original flavor. Meanwhile, my mother had been plotting to send me a special baguette pan to help me in my endeavors, but couldn't actually locate one.
This past weekend, all elements came together to make two beautiful loaves:
You can see in this photo the perforated, loaf-shaped baguette pans my mother ordered from William Sonoma. They maintain the shape and integrity of the loaf through the final rest, rising, and baking. I baked the loaves in the pan on top of a pizza stone (per Foodiefarmgirl). The holes in the bottom allow the heat to transfer and actually bake the bottom of the loaf to a golden sheen. Other elements adding to my success were: the use of a kitchen scale rather than measuring cups (mush more accurate), and using my kitchen aid to do the kneading. I incorporate too much flour when I knead, I'm better off letting the machine do it for me. Weighing ingredients and using thermometers make it feel a little more like chemistry lab and less like my kitchen as an artists canvas... but the accuracy has even a spontaneous cook like me sold - at least for bread... and maybe some meat prep.
Anyway, for any bakers who read this blog, I highly recommend the baguette pans. They work wonderfully and the recipe that comes with them is solid. I served them at dinner the other night and garnered compliments from Mr. Wonderful,S, and ReallyTiny et son ami.
(my beautiful golden bottom - more golden than my real one could ever be...)
This past weekend, all elements came together to make two beautiful loaves:
You can see in this photo the perforated, loaf-shaped baguette pans my mother ordered from William Sonoma. They maintain the shape and integrity of the loaf through the final rest, rising, and baking. I baked the loaves in the pan on top of a pizza stone (per Foodiefarmgirl). The holes in the bottom allow the heat to transfer and actually bake the bottom of the loaf to a golden sheen. Other elements adding to my success were: the use of a kitchen scale rather than measuring cups (mush more accurate), and using my kitchen aid to do the kneading. I incorporate too much flour when I knead, I'm better off letting the machine do it for me. Weighing ingredients and using thermometers make it feel a little more like chemistry lab and less like my kitchen as an artists canvas... but the accuracy has even a spontaneous cook like me sold - at least for bread... and maybe some meat prep.
Anyway, for any bakers who read this blog, I highly recommend the baguette pans. They work wonderfully and the recipe that comes with them is solid. I served them at dinner the other night and garnered compliments from Mr. Wonderful,S, and ReallyTiny et son ami.
(my beautiful golden bottom - more golden than my real one could ever be...)
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Tattoos
Two in one day! Aren't you lucky.
I'm still thinking about tattoos. As established in an earlier post, Mr. Wonderful is not so excited about tattoos on me. As a good partner I have been respectful of his not liking them, but that doesn't stop me from wanting one. It has stopped me from going out and getting one.. but maybe not for too much longer. One of Mr. Wonderful's issues with tattoos is that he likes the continuity of skin. As someone who is herself fascinated by skin (freckles rock), I can understand and respect that. I myself haven't settled on a place I would want to get different colors dyed into my skin for similar reasons. However, after a conversation this morning, I think we may have reached a compromise: the feet. In my younger years I wasn't as keen on feet tattoos, n part b/c I was still in an attention whorish phase and wanted all eyes on my body. Well, as I've gotten older, mellowed, and realized that being an attention whore isn't always the best professional choice, I've begun to rethink the feet and ankle. Living in California my feet are exposed frequently, almost regularly. I wouldn't have to worry about the effects of potential stretch mark sites, and Mr. Wonderful wouldn't be distracted by a colorful tattoo disrupting the visual continuity of my birthday suit.
Right now, my thought is to get a tattoo after I finish my dissertation. I'm giving myself time b/c i have two designs I really like and I'm not sure on placement. So, for input, here they are:
The first one, the Harp of Erin, is a design I've liked for a long time. My thesis will likely be on Ireland, I'm 1/4 Irish, and my sister's name is Erin. Plus, it's a pretty sweet design that isn't a shamrock or any sort of celtic style knotwork:
This next one follows in the vein of kungfu's tattoo philosophy: fuck meaning and just get something that looks totally rad. I give you the humuhumukunukunupua'a:
I love these fish. They are the national fish of Hawai'i and you can see them all over the reefs there. They're unique and have a cool color scheme. I've spent a lot of time chasing these guys about and Mr. Wonderful and I saw a ton of them while on our honeymoon. Another nice part of the humuhumu tattoo idea is that it would be easy to expand it into a mini reef if I wanted to.
I have some time and I'd love people's input if they have any. Harp: cool and has meaning; humuhumu: love the fish and unique as far as I can tell for fish tattoos (most people go the koi route). Oh, I've also decided to get my mom to draw and color whatever image I decided to go with and see if I can find a tattoo artist who is willing to work with her artwork.
What do you think?
I'm still thinking about tattoos. As established in an earlier post, Mr. Wonderful is not so excited about tattoos on me. As a good partner I have been respectful of his not liking them, but that doesn't stop me from wanting one. It has stopped me from going out and getting one.. but maybe not for too much longer. One of Mr. Wonderful's issues with tattoos is that he likes the continuity of skin. As someone who is herself fascinated by skin (freckles rock), I can understand and respect that. I myself haven't settled on a place I would want to get different colors dyed into my skin for similar reasons. However, after a conversation this morning, I think we may have reached a compromise: the feet. In my younger years I wasn't as keen on feet tattoos, n part b/c I was still in an attention whorish phase and wanted all eyes on my body. Well, as I've gotten older, mellowed, and realized that being an attention whore isn't always the best professional choice, I've begun to rethink the feet and ankle. Living in California my feet are exposed frequently, almost regularly. I wouldn't have to worry about the effects of potential stretch mark sites, and Mr. Wonderful wouldn't be distracted by a colorful tattoo disrupting the visual continuity of my birthday suit.
Right now, my thought is to get a tattoo after I finish my dissertation. I'm giving myself time b/c i have two designs I really like and I'm not sure on placement. So, for input, here they are:
The first one, the Harp of Erin, is a design I've liked for a long time. My thesis will likely be on Ireland, I'm 1/4 Irish, and my sister's name is Erin. Plus, it's a pretty sweet design that isn't a shamrock or any sort of celtic style knotwork:
This next one follows in the vein of kungfu's tattoo philosophy: fuck meaning and just get something that looks totally rad. I give you the humuhumukunukunupua'a:
I love these fish. They are the national fish of Hawai'i and you can see them all over the reefs there. They're unique and have a cool color scheme. I've spent a lot of time chasing these guys about and Mr. Wonderful and I saw a ton of them while on our honeymoon. Another nice part of the humuhumu tattoo idea is that it would be easy to expand it into a mini reef if I wanted to.
I have some time and I'd love people's input if they have any. Harp: cool and has meaning; humuhumu: love the fish and unique as far as I can tell for fish tattoos (most people go the koi route). Oh, I've also decided to get my mom to draw and color whatever image I decided to go with and see if I can find a tattoo artist who is willing to work with her artwork.
What do you think?
There Can Be Only One
If you haven't seen the 1986 sci-fi/fantasy classic, The Highlander, I highly recommend you grab a 12 pack (or two, this movie needs booze), a pair of white high-tops, you're favorite light wash tapered ankle jeans, and prepare yourself for 116 minutes of pure 80s fun. This movie has it all: men in kilts, broadswords, an attempted witch burning, immortal pimps, punks, and flash backs. Pushing it over the edge of awesome and into totally rad is that the entire soundtrack was composed and performed by Queen.
We have our hero: Connor Mcleod (pictured here with Queen)
As all good movies that have no plot but awesome back story, the bulk of this movie is told in flashback. Connor is an immortal whose goal is to protect humanity from evil - which can't be shot and killed, but must be beheaded with a broadsword. In the present day, he rocks a urban casual look: antique collector by day and bad ass in a tan trenchcoat by night. The present-day plot is sort of slim: he has to kill a bad guy or he will be killed, and he boinks a redhead. He gets the girl, the punk gets beheaded and thats about it.
Where this movie is totally awesome is in the flashbacks. We see Connor in his original get up:
Which is less historically accurate than Braveheart and no where near as exciting as his white trainers. It's easy to loose Labmert on screen due to his slightly less than mediocre acting, although his abnormally large forehead keeps the viewers eye firmly affixed to his on-screen character. (Look at his forehead: it looks like to breasts attached to his skull! The should have worked with it and had him sprout horns) McLoed gets stabbed by an evil man wearing a bear skull for a helmet and dies. And then doesn't. He comes back to life, his village freaks out and we get an hysterical attempt at a witch burning.
The film really picks up with the entrance of Pimp of the Year, Sean Connery.
If they had ever put me in a red velvet costume with peacock feathered cloak, red velvet cavalier's hat with more peacock feathers, and a pearl earring the size of a quail egg... they would have had to pry my cold dead corpse out of it. Why he didn't steal this costume and wear it to every red carpet opening since 1986 is totally beyond me.
So Connery shows up playing a Spaniard of sorts. He plays Obi Wan to Connor's Skywalker: revealing the shared immortality of himself and our hero. We get a Rocky style training-montage that shows Connors development, including lots of running to catch up with a horseback riding Connery, sword fighting on mountain tops, sweating, giggling, and disarming each other.
Flip back to the present day and we get our next awesome character: the Kurgen
He starts out (in flashbacks, of course) in this get up:
Yes, that is a bear skull and yes, his body armour has external ribs, nipples, and fur. How can yous trike fear into your enemies unless you pull out the nipples of death?
Fast forward into the present-time, and we get this gem:
Kurgen reflects Hollywood's idea of 80s punks in all their glory. He looks like a Hot Topic sales person who just left the local BDSM convention. Best of all, he is full accessorized with that 80s punk staple: safety pins. Not just to hold his clothing together, but to keep his head attacked to his neck.
With the costuming you get in this movie, you really don't need much of an excuse for a plot, so the little you get is actually a lot of fun. It also has the typical 80s gratuitous sex scene (with shadowed boobies!) which has nothing to do with the plot (the chick he hooks up with was a former gfriend from the 18th century who tried to burn him at the stake after he came back to life) but a whole lot to do with breasts.
All in all, this movie is good fun and a great way to escape into the silliness of Hollywood flix.
We have our hero: Connor Mcleod (pictured here with Queen)
As all good movies that have no plot but awesome back story, the bulk of this movie is told in flashback. Connor is an immortal whose goal is to protect humanity from evil - which can't be shot and killed, but must be beheaded with a broadsword. In the present day, he rocks a urban casual look: antique collector by day and bad ass in a tan trenchcoat by night. The present-day plot is sort of slim: he has to kill a bad guy or he will be killed, and he boinks a redhead. He gets the girl, the punk gets beheaded and thats about it.
Where this movie is totally awesome is in the flashbacks. We see Connor in his original get up:
Which is less historically accurate than Braveheart and no where near as exciting as his white trainers. It's easy to loose Labmert on screen due to his slightly less than mediocre acting, although his abnormally large forehead keeps the viewers eye firmly affixed to his on-screen character. (Look at his forehead: it looks like to breasts attached to his skull! The should have worked with it and had him sprout horns) McLoed gets stabbed by an evil man wearing a bear skull for a helmet and dies. And then doesn't. He comes back to life, his village freaks out and we get an hysterical attempt at a witch burning.
The film really picks up with the entrance of Pimp of the Year, Sean Connery.
If they had ever put me in a red velvet costume with peacock feathered cloak, red velvet cavalier's hat with more peacock feathers, and a pearl earring the size of a quail egg... they would have had to pry my cold dead corpse out of it. Why he didn't steal this costume and wear it to every red carpet opening since 1986 is totally beyond me.
So Connery shows up playing a Spaniard of sorts. He plays Obi Wan to Connor's Skywalker: revealing the shared immortality of himself and our hero. We get a Rocky style training-montage that shows Connors development, including lots of running to catch up with a horseback riding Connery, sword fighting on mountain tops, sweating, giggling, and disarming each other.
Flip back to the present day and we get our next awesome character: the Kurgen
He starts out (in flashbacks, of course) in this get up:
Yes, that is a bear skull and yes, his body armour has external ribs, nipples, and fur. How can yous trike fear into your enemies unless you pull out the nipples of death?
Fast forward into the present-time, and we get this gem:
Kurgen reflects Hollywood's idea of 80s punks in all their glory. He looks like a Hot Topic sales person who just left the local BDSM convention. Best of all, he is full accessorized with that 80s punk staple: safety pins. Not just to hold his clothing together, but to keep his head attacked to his neck.
With the costuming you get in this movie, you really don't need much of an excuse for a plot, so the little you get is actually a lot of fun. It also has the typical 80s gratuitous sex scene (with shadowed boobies!) which has nothing to do with the plot (the chick he hooks up with was a former gfriend from the 18th century who tried to burn him at the stake after he came back to life) but a whole lot to do with breasts.
All in all, this movie is good fun and a great way to escape into the silliness of Hollywood flix.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
My Ass, It Was Handed to Me
French sucked today. Today we broke the American-taught French tradition of "Just use 'est-ce que' for all questions" and struggled through inversion, quel, lequel, and all the other fun interrogative pronouns and adjectives. It was awful, but at least it was awful for everyone. The real highlight (lowlight?) was out in class translation of Pierre Marcherey's "Les Philosophes Francais de l'apres guerre face a la politique: de marleau-Ponty et de Kojeve."
It was the double handling of 1) I'm not in hist con/lit/philosophy and haven't read everyone referenced and the genealogy of their works, 2) Reading French off a page outloud and then translating is really flipping hard, and 3) my spoken French sucks. Kungfu will probably generously beg to differ, but it's really quite painful. Speed by laisons like Nick Holgan in Miami, I still confuse "un and une" with "un and una" (and "il and elle" with "el and la"), and successfully pronounced all French philosophers to be female.
I'm sure anyone who has tried to translate out loud, in front of a class in a language they aren't really all that comfortable will be familiar with this next issue: When I read to myself at home, I can see the phrases and the way the words fit together. I talk through it to myself and I recognize the formation. But when you're reading out loud, and you're nervous, you begin to focus visually on each individual word as if it were both and anchor to and a portal into the language you are in the process of butchering. The higher the nervousness, the higher the tendency to focus word by word, until you've lost all sense of context, phrasing, and even understanding of basics such as "dont" and "danc". As the nervousness picks up you then lose the differentiation between articles and pronouns and you begin to wish you had taken that shot (or two or three) of whiskey at the break so at least you'd have something to blame.
The prof described me as fighting, with all my might, the current of translation.
Well, back to the fray...
It was the double handling of 1) I'm not in hist con/lit/philosophy and haven't read everyone referenced and the genealogy of their works, 2) Reading French off a page outloud and then translating is really flipping hard, and 3) my spoken French sucks. Kungfu will probably generously beg to differ, but it's really quite painful. Speed by laisons like Nick Holgan in Miami, I still confuse "un and une" with "un and una" (and "il and elle" with "el and la"), and successfully pronounced all French philosophers to be female.
I'm sure anyone who has tried to translate out loud, in front of a class in a language they aren't really all that comfortable will be familiar with this next issue: When I read to myself at home, I can see the phrases and the way the words fit together. I talk through it to myself and I recognize the formation. But when you're reading out loud, and you're nervous, you begin to focus visually on each individual word as if it were both and anchor to and a portal into the language you are in the process of butchering. The higher the nervousness, the higher the tendency to focus word by word, until you've lost all sense of context, phrasing, and even understanding of basics such as "dont" and "danc". As the nervousness picks up you then lose the differentiation between articles and pronouns and you begin to wish you had taken that shot (or two or three) of whiskey at the break so at least you'd have something to blame.
The prof described me as fighting, with all my might, the current of translation.
Well, back to the fray...
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Holy Hell
Ok, I'll keep the personal references to a minimum, but I'm not toning down my swearing, at least not completely. (for non home-based readers, some of our dept students' blogs were found and there was much closing down of blogs. I'm staying up, just somewhat censored).
French is hard. My graduate intensive French class is hard. It's easier from French tutoring b/c it's in English, not French, but I still have that "It's 10:40 in the morning and man I could use a some scotch." And I'm not even a big hard alcohol person. This is way beyond wine or beer - straight to the straight up. I have to drink tea and not coffee b/c the anxiety and the caffeine makes me a bit jittery.
I'm so glad I'm taking this class. I'm so glad I have the opportunity to take this class. It's hard and embarrassing and takes a lot of the wind out of your sails.
But I need to be able to read easily and (somewhat) quickly in French. I feel like an idiot, but its good to be humbled.
Ok, the pause is over, we're back to work, and hopefully I'll be able to remember what "souvent" means and not have to look it up for the millionth time. (It's the little stupid words I can't seem to remember).
French is hard. My graduate intensive French class is hard. It's easier from French tutoring b/c it's in English, not French, but I still have that "It's 10:40 in the morning and man I could use a some scotch." And I'm not even a big hard alcohol person. This is way beyond wine or beer - straight to the straight up. I have to drink tea and not coffee b/c the anxiety and the caffeine makes me a bit jittery.
I'm so glad I'm taking this class. I'm so glad I have the opportunity to take this class. It's hard and embarrassing and takes a lot of the wind out of your sails.
But I need to be able to read easily and (somewhat) quickly in French. I feel like an idiot, but its good to be humbled.
Ok, the pause is over, we're back to work, and hopefully I'll be able to remember what "souvent" means and not have to look it up for the millionth time. (It's the little stupid words I can't seem to remember).
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Supercool
This is mainly for ReallyTiny and Tweak, but for any walker or runner this site is super cool:
www.runstoppable.com
It combines with Google Maps and Google Earth to chart and save running/walking routes. You can plan them out ahead of time and it has maps for the entire world.
www.runstoppable.com
It combines with Google Maps and Google Earth to chart and save running/walking routes. You can plan them out ahead of time and it has maps for the entire world.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Notes from the Garden State
Things I love about the Jersey Shore:
-beach
-warm water (as in 74 degrees warm and no jellyfish so far)
-people watching at the beach (gold chains + baby oil + chest hair + beer belly = awesome)
-not having to do dishes (b/c my MIL actually loves to do them)
And finally, things Tweak will be jealous of:
-seeing the local rep version of 1776
Vocally, they were excellent. Acting wise, they needed a bit of work, but will probably be there for the second week of the fun. Hancock was set on level 10 for the whole show, Addams reminded me too much of Robin Williams, and McKean's Scottish brogue was from long lost Loch Brooklyn. But the harmonies were outstanding and overall the cast did and excellent job.
-beach
-warm water (as in 74 degrees warm and no jellyfish so far)
-people watching at the beach (gold chains + baby oil + chest hair + beer belly = awesome)
-not having to do dishes (b/c my MIL actually loves to do them)
And finally, things Tweak will be jealous of:
-seeing the local rep version of 1776
Vocally, they were excellent. Acting wise, they needed a bit of work, but will probably be there for the second week of the fun. Hancock was set on level 10 for the whole show, Addams reminded me too much of Robin Williams, and McKean's Scottish brogue was from long lost Loch Brooklyn. But the harmonies were outstanding and overall the cast did and excellent job.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
She sells Seashells
Ah New Jersey... Actually, it's quite nice here. Everything is green, the humidity is low and it's still in the low 70s. Our red eye landed at 7am this morning EST and I"m a little out of it, but the strong black elixir of the gods has helped put me back to something resembling normal.
I'll be out of town, chillin' in the Garden State for about 2 weeks. I will have limited internet, but will try to post updates and pics when I can.
Toodles.
I'll be out of town, chillin' in the Garden State for about 2 weeks. I will have limited internet, but will try to post updates and pics when I can.
Toodles.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Meet Achaean
If you haven't read these books, you must (thank you Beetlegirl and Kungfu). I don't think the patronus has anything on the daemons.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Love and Hate in So Cal (aka We're also flying next time)
Mr. Wonderful and I took a 5 day long trip to So Cal to visit my family about a week ago. We said good-bye to my sister, who is headed to Philly for med school, and George, Luke's oldest friend who finished her PhD in social psych and a sweet job at a Community College in the DC area. We also had the incredibly opportunity to see the Dead Sea Scrolls and were treated "Avenue Q". There was some drama over a batch of chili, but all in all it was good times.
However, despite the number of people I know and love in San Diego, there is nothing like driving to said city that reinforces why we'll never move back* like sitting in Southern California traffic. On Thursday it took us 3.5 hours from Glendale to Irvine. On Friday, 3 hours from Irvine to San Diego. It took us a combined total of 6.5 freakin' hours to drive a little over 130 miles. Gas mileage plummeted, stress levels rose, and we got to spend 3 hours asking ourselves why we drove. And on either side of the concrete river: strip malls as far as the eye can see. I never appreciated living in a place where trees aren't all the same height, grass isn't all exactly the same color, and asphalt isn't the dominant material until moving to Santa Cruz.
The real pain in the ass is that driving is still the cheapest way to travel from No Cal to SD. Plane tickets would have run us in the vicinity of at least $150 a piece, plus the cost of leaving the car at the airport. The train is a cheaper option at $90 pp, but we have to drive 3 hours to SLO and then take the 7-8 hour train ride (which I think we actually will try next time).
Either way, glad to be home, even if I am leaving again in a week.
* By "never" I of course mean, "unless someone offers us a butt load of money" and by "us" I mean Luke, because really, the big bucks aren't in history. Shocking, I know.
However, despite the number of people I know and love in San Diego, there is nothing like driving to said city that reinforces why we'll never move back* like sitting in Southern California traffic. On Thursday it took us 3.5 hours from Glendale to Irvine. On Friday, 3 hours from Irvine to San Diego. It took us a combined total of 6.5 freakin' hours to drive a little over 130 miles. Gas mileage plummeted, stress levels rose, and we got to spend 3 hours asking ourselves why we drove. And on either side of the concrete river: strip malls as far as the eye can see. I never appreciated living in a place where trees aren't all the same height, grass isn't all exactly the same color, and asphalt isn't the dominant material until moving to Santa Cruz.
The real pain in the ass is that driving is still the cheapest way to travel from No Cal to SD. Plane tickets would have run us in the vicinity of at least $150 a piece, plus the cost of leaving the car at the airport. The train is a cheaper option at $90 pp, but we have to drive 3 hours to SLO and then take the 7-8 hour train ride (which I think we actually will try next time).
Either way, glad to be home, even if I am leaving again in a week.
* By "never" I of course mean, "unless someone offers us a butt load of money" and by "us" I mean Luke, because really, the big bucks aren't in history. Shocking, I know.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Estoy celoso
A good friend of mine from many years ago just bought a house. Considering I'm in my late 20s,this may not be surprising to all that many people reading this blog - particularly those gentle readers who happen to reside outside of California, New York, and major cities such as Boston. He is, after all, in State College, PA, pretty much close to nowhere in the western part of good old Pennsyl-Tucky. He and his lovely partner have to deal with things like: snow, mosquitos, humidity, and don't have the advantages that us Californians have such as: nice weather, beautiful scenery we can be in year-round, and (in Santa Cruz) sea otters.
But what he does have is a house. One that is over 2,000 ft sq, on a good chunk of land for less than many manufactured homes sell for here, and has a kick ass name.
Where it is hard for me to believe is that this is affordable for them as two grad students. You couldn't afford a house like that out here if you were two professionals raking in over 100K a year.
Per a conversation with kungfuramone, I remind myself that I choose to be here. We could have gone to Univ of AZ and probably purchased a home in what for me is a less than desirable area with a program that wasn't a good fit, didn't guarantee TAs, had no union and only one other history grad student. But we're here for a variety of reasons and I feel truly lucky that I have the opportunity to live in such a beautiful place. I'm never again going to be able to afford the view I have out of my kitchen, I love having redwood trails in my backyard, and I remind myself of what I love each day.
On the other hand, I'm jealous that they have the opportunity to live in a place they own. No landlord telling them they can't have a cat, no sharing a wall, no more saving quarters to do the laundry, and a place indoors they can put their cars at night where they don't have to worry about them getting broken into. (We've had break-ins at FSH, Luke's stereo was stole out of East Remote, not to mention our place in LA...).
Combined with that is a general "move-weariness" that is particularly strong in my generation and even more so amongst us crazy nutcakes going into academia. I have now lived in my place in FSH longer than any other home since I was 15 and my mom and I moved out (it'll be 2 years in Sept). Most of us have been moving around every year or so since we were 18 or so. I'm tired of moving. I'll probably be here another 2-3 years, making this the most stable home I will have had in years, but it's always with the look towards a future move date: to who knows where and who knows when.
I feel like a lot of things in my life (with the exception of my husband) are very semi-permanent: home, classes, work relationships, grad school friendships. I'm looking forward to a time when I can put down some roots, and not have them have to be in a pot that I can throw in the car and move somewhere else.
PS Finally, a few large things that are advantages when renting: it's always someone else's problem to take care of the stuff that breaks, no property taxes, no homeowners insurance, and if you hate your neighbors there's always the possibility that one of the two of you will leave.
But what he does have is a house. One that is over 2,000 ft sq, on a good chunk of land for less than many manufactured homes sell for here, and has a kick ass name.
Where it is hard for me to believe is that this is affordable for them as two grad students. You couldn't afford a house like that out here if you were two professionals raking in over 100K a year.
Per a conversation with kungfuramone, I remind myself that I choose to be here. We could have gone to Univ of AZ and probably purchased a home in what for me is a less than desirable area with a program that wasn't a good fit, didn't guarantee TAs, had no union and only one other history grad student. But we're here for a variety of reasons and I feel truly lucky that I have the opportunity to live in such a beautiful place. I'm never again going to be able to afford the view I have out of my kitchen, I love having redwood trails in my backyard, and I remind myself of what I love each day.
On the other hand, I'm jealous that they have the opportunity to live in a place they own. No landlord telling them they can't have a cat, no sharing a wall, no more saving quarters to do the laundry, and a place indoors they can put their cars at night where they don't have to worry about them getting broken into. (We've had break-ins at FSH, Luke's stereo was stole out of East Remote, not to mention our place in LA...).
Combined with that is a general "move-weariness" that is particularly strong in my generation and even more so amongst us crazy nutcakes going into academia. I have now lived in my place in FSH longer than any other home since I was 15 and my mom and I moved out (it'll be 2 years in Sept). Most of us have been moving around every year or so since we were 18 or so. I'm tired of moving. I'll probably be here another 2-3 years, making this the most stable home I will have had in years, but it's always with the look towards a future move date: to who knows where and who knows when.
I feel like a lot of things in my life (with the exception of my husband) are very semi-permanent: home, classes, work relationships, grad school friendships. I'm looking forward to a time when I can put down some roots, and not have them have to be in a pot that I can throw in the car and move somewhere else.
PS Finally, a few large things that are advantages when renting: it's always someone else's problem to take care of the stuff that breaks, no property taxes, no homeowners insurance, and if you hate your neighbors there's always the possibility that one of the two of you will leave.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
And now for a rant
Blogger/Google sometimes drives me crazy. I have two Google accounts (actually 3, but only 2 I use regularly): this one and a personal account. I get most of my email and use the calendar at my other account and use KellysIrishRed as my public account and contact site for this blog. I hate HATE that I can't easily switch between the accounts. Recently I've been using Safari for KellysIrishRed and firefox for my primary account. But Safari sucks for blogger. The you lose a lot of the easy to access buttons, the photos upload differently, and the spell check is a pain in the ass to use. I'd do everything in Firefox, but then I end up having to sign in an out of my accounts to go back an forth between my gmail, calendar, homepage (all on one) and blogger. It's becoming more of a pain now that I'm using picassa web albums. I'm duplicating too much. I wish google could link the accounts, or have both saved with a simple "switch accounts" button. Or at the bare minimum, update the support for Safari for those of us who run two browsers, one for each account. I realize I could condense into one account, but which one? And I'm not sure I want my primary email address to be accessible through blogger.
I'm annoyed, and it's actually part of why I don't update my blog as often: because it can be a real pain in the ass.
I'm annoyed, and it's actually part of why I don't update my blog as often: because it can be a real pain in the ass.
Knitting Update
The summer is into full swing and I'm enjoying my period of academic decompression. This has allowed me to get back into some of my crafting projects that were neglected over the course of the year.
First I give you a sleeve and a half for Rogue. This is my first sweater and first cabling project. I'm very excited that I haven't had to frog anything yet *fingers crossed*
The three balls below are projects to be started. Pink for a kittyville hat for my sister, blue for a sizzle tank for me, and purple for a scarf to match odessa
Thanks to tips from knottyhistorian I've been able to avoid wrist strain while knitting and really made some good progress. I'm also working on the Big Bad Baby Blanket for our friend's first baby (due in Dec), which I'll post when I've made more headway.
First I give you a sleeve and a half for Rogue. This is my first sweater and first cabling project. I'm very excited that I haven't had to frog anything yet *fingers crossed*
The three balls below are projects to be started. Pink for a kittyville hat for my sister, blue for a sizzle tank for me, and purple for a scarf to match odessa
Thanks to tips from knottyhistorian I've been able to avoid wrist strain while knitting and really made some good progress. I'm also working on the Big Bad Baby Blanket for our friend's first baby (due in Dec), which I'll post when I've made more headway.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Done
I'm done with my work for the quarter, and as a bonus I have my first annotated syllabus for my QEs about 99% done. I've never been done this early and with relatively such little stress. I still have 55 papers to grade by Monday and then a batch of finals coming on Tuesday - but as far as my work goes I'm finished.
Frankly, I'm sort of in shock that I've already finished my second year. Grad school does that bizarre thing to time where it simultaneously flies by and slogs along like refrigerated molasses.
Plan for this summer:
-being outside as much as possible and "read" on the beach
-forcing The Last Modernist to get a jump start on conference planning so I don't get screwed in April 08 (should we live so long...) and have to do it all last minute
-Reminding myself of the French I know still lurks in the back of my grey matter. (be forewarned, when I feel like I know what I'm doing I tend to bust out in French when I'm drunk. Hopefully it won't mix with the German and we'll avoid, "mais non! Je voudrais nicht bier sondern wein!"
-blogging (and knitting). You'll be seeing much more from me in the coming months.
For now, off to my last lecture of the quarter.
Frankly, I'm sort of in shock that I've already finished my second year. Grad school does that bizarre thing to time where it simultaneously flies by and slogs along like refrigerated molasses.
Plan for this summer:
-being outside as much as possible and "read" on the beach
-forcing The Last Modernist to get a jump start on conference planning so I don't get screwed in April 08 (should we live so long...) and have to do it all last minute
-Reminding myself of the French I know still lurks in the back of my grey matter. (be forewarned, when I feel like I know what I'm doing I tend to bust out in French when I'm drunk. Hopefully it won't mix with the German and we'll avoid, "mais non! Je voudrais nicht bier sondern wein!"
-blogging (and knitting). You'll be seeing much more from me in the coming months.
For now, off to my last lecture of the quarter.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The ugly orange stairs
It's been too long, I've been too busy. Between graduation at Duke (you don't know privilege until you've seen men in $1K suits and $800 shoes swilling Miller Light and $2 Chuck in a parking lot acting like they were hobnobbing at a country club - no working class, no middle class, no upper middle class, just plain old Southern and New England money rich. One-of-these-things-was-not-like-the-other...), and Bay to Breakers (naked men, lots of costumes, kegs in shopping carts, and a 12K in 1 hour 23 min finish, it was TOTALLY RAD; crepes too, can't forget about the crepes...).
So, to welcome myself back, I've decided to shelve (for now) the privilege and naked man talk and instead turn to this:
For those unenlightened who don't watch the show, this staircase, and the twin tower office buildings it stands in front of, has been prominently featured in the last several episodes of Heroes. Supposed to be "Kirby Square" in NYC, it's actually the City National Plaza in downtown LA, and was my professional home for two years. Now, I'm all about suspension of disbelief (so if you want to keep the illusion, stop reading now), but they literally filmed almost every scene in the last 4 weeks in the same plaza, street in front of the plaza, parking lot, and 1 suite in the North tower. Literally, the suite Micha was being held at and some of Linderman's office space and the facility Molly was being held at was like, 2 rooms. I know TV and movies are all about dressing up sets and making them believable as different locations (porn, of course, having cornered the market on this one: new lamp, move the plant over, change the bed spread, voila! new set), but having spent so much time and recognizing so many of the places (which is really just one or two places re-shot from slightly different angles) makes the whole thing unbelievable for me. Not that it's ruined the show or anything, but you hit a point where you've see so many freaking NYC scenes in downtown LA that it just gets old when you recognize the same 2 blocks used again and again. They filmed a bunch of 24 scenes at Union station and at my metro stop. I would regularly come in around 6:45 (I worked at 7), to see movie crews lined up with "New York" cabs on the street in order to recreate NYC.
Maybe, and this is my Cali pride talking, just maybe, they could have set it in LA?
So, to welcome myself back, I've decided to shelve (for now) the privilege and naked man talk and instead turn to this:
For those unenlightened who don't watch the show, this staircase, and the twin tower office buildings it stands in front of, has been prominently featured in the last several episodes of Heroes. Supposed to be "Kirby Square" in NYC, it's actually the City National Plaza in downtown LA, and was my professional home for two years. Now, I'm all about suspension of disbelief (so if you want to keep the illusion, stop reading now), but they literally filmed almost every scene in the last 4 weeks in the same plaza, street in front of the plaza, parking lot, and 1 suite in the North tower. Literally, the suite Micha was being held at and some of Linderman's office space and the facility Molly was being held at was like, 2 rooms. I know TV and movies are all about dressing up sets and making them believable as different locations (porn, of course, having cornered the market on this one: new lamp, move the plant over, change the bed spread, voila! new set), but having spent so much time and recognizing so many of the places (which is really just one or two places re-shot from slightly different angles) makes the whole thing unbelievable for me. Not that it's ruined the show or anything, but you hit a point where you've see so many freaking NYC scenes in downtown LA that it just gets old when you recognize the same 2 blocks used again and again. They filmed a bunch of 24 scenes at Union station and at my metro stop. I would regularly come in around 6:45 (I worked at 7), to see movie crews lined up with "New York" cabs on the street in order to recreate NYC.
Maybe, and this is my Cali pride talking, just maybe, they could have set it in LA?
Sunday, May 06, 2007
When Irish Skin is Burning
Sometimes I forget I'm Irish and I put on the 30 spf insted of the 50. I run around all day, soaking in the hot sun. Maybe I do some grading outside, and then hop about the field during softball practice... Then I come home, put my legs up, and notice that I'm the color of an overly ripened tomato. How did that happen? I say to myself as reach up to scratch a itch on my neck and scream in pain at the 2" strip of flesh between by bra and tank top strap that I didn't get enough sunscreen on.
Goddamn "ivory bisque" Irish skin.
The legs are particularly cool: red on top and white on the bottom. Urg.
So I'm in a particularly foul mood where my legs ache and literally every step is painful. I'm supposed to be running quite a bit this week as my lead up for the Bay to Breakers and b/c I was an idiot just going up stairs or walking on flat ground hurts like a mother.*
It's been a good weekend, but I'm busy. I hardly have enough time to do my work, much less blog. Per reallytiny and goat, we won our Friday softball game (go Bangers!). I will echo their assessment that with the exception of L, and a few others (tiny and goat included), we are better as a whole than as individual players. But what really helps us win games is the other team. We'll see how we do wen we play against a team of good hitter with a fully staffed outfield.
Speaking of softball, yesterday really drove me nuts. We had practice and I could barely hit the ball. I can generally make good contact, but I'm trying to move the bat around faster and failing miserably. I just end up throwing my balance off b/c I'm muscling through the swing rather than working with it. I know the general idea of the problem; it's the same as in dance. You have to spin faster to land a triple, but that actually means relaxing more and moving with the physics of your body rather than hurling yourself into a spin (you'll just land on you ass). It took me years to figure out how that worked in dance, and I didn't have to swing and hit something at the same time!
When I comes down to it I'm just scared of the ball and being hit. As a result, I don't look at the ball and it hits me. It's a never ending cycle.
Despite the whining, I have a whole lot of fun when we play and take comfort that although I'm a weaker link, we haven't yet lost b/c of me .
*which is why apologize for any snarkiness/bitchiness/brusquness at 99 bottles tonight, I hurt, my head is pounding and I still have papers to grade and a damn reaction paper to write.
Goddamn "ivory bisque" Irish skin.
The legs are particularly cool: red on top and white on the bottom. Urg.
So I'm in a particularly foul mood where my legs ache and literally every step is painful. I'm supposed to be running quite a bit this week as my lead up for the Bay to Breakers and b/c I was an idiot just going up stairs or walking on flat ground hurts like a mother.*
It's been a good weekend, but I'm busy. I hardly have enough time to do my work, much less blog. Per reallytiny and goat, we won our Friday softball game (go Bangers!). I will echo their assessment that with the exception of L, and a few others (tiny and goat included), we are better as a whole than as individual players. But what really helps us win games is the other team. We'll see how we do wen we play against a team of good hitter with a fully staffed outfield.
Speaking of softball, yesterday really drove me nuts. We had practice and I could barely hit the ball. I can generally make good contact, but I'm trying to move the bat around faster and failing miserably. I just end up throwing my balance off b/c I'm muscling through the swing rather than working with it. I know the general idea of the problem; it's the same as in dance. You have to spin faster to land a triple, but that actually means relaxing more and moving with the physics of your body rather than hurling yourself into a spin (you'll just land on you ass). It took me years to figure out how that worked in dance, and I didn't have to swing and hit something at the same time!
When I comes down to it I'm just scared of the ball and being hit. As a result, I don't look at the ball and it hits me. It's a never ending cycle.
Despite the whining, I have a whole lot of fun when we play and take comfort that although I'm a weaker link, we haven't yet lost b/c of me .
*which is why apologize for any snarkiness/bitchiness/brusquness at 99 bottles tonight, I hurt, my head is pounding and I still have papers to grade and a damn reaction paper to write.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
My students freakin' rock
You'll never hear that again :) And if any of my students have found this page and were in section today, yeah, I'm talkin' about you.
29 students. All talked. Without being called on. And all more than once!
They respectfully disagreed with each other, supported each other at times, and were really prepared to discuss the reading.
Best of all, they made deeper connections between the poems w/in the collection and then again within the deeper historical context.
It was awesome, they were great, I got to run around and write on the board.... good times were had.
29 students. All talked. Without being called on. And all more than once!
They respectfully disagreed with each other, supported each other at times, and were really prepared to discuss the reading.
Best of all, they made deeper connections between the poems w/in the collection and then again within the deeper historical context.
It was awesome, they were great, I got to run around and write on the board.... good times were had.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Beer Bread
Beer is the wonder food! and now it makes wonder bread.
This is a super easy recipe my friend Corrie sent me, the original recipe can be found here:
If you can turn on an overn, measure, open a beer, mix, and set a timer... you can make this recipe.
I've made a few adjustments in the version I'm posting they will be in parenthesis:
Ingredients:
3 c. white flour
1 Tbl sugar
1 tsp salt
1 Tbl baking powder
2 Tbl herbs (literally, just measure some of the dried stuff you have. I recommend rosemary, basil, and/or thyme)
1 c. freshly grated cheese (Instead I use 1.5-2 Tbl melted butter
2 beers; one for the recipe and one for the cook. Dark beer makes a darker sweeter bread; light beer makes a lighter bread, something like and IPA or ESB adds a tangy flavor
1. Turn oven on to 350F
2. Measure and dump dry ingredients into a big bowl. Mix with big spoon (or little spoon or hands if you have no spoons).
3. Melt butter in microwave. dump on top of dry ingredients.
4. open 1 beer. Drink
5. open second beer, pour over dry ingredients. Mix with spoon/hand/whatever.
6. put in a loaf pan
7. Bake about 45 min ( I bake or 50-55)
8. cool in pan 10 m.
9. cool on rack for 10 min.
10. congratulate self on a well made bread and drink another beer.
This is a super easy recipe my friend Corrie sent me, the original recipe can be found here:
If you can turn on an overn, measure, open a beer, mix, and set a timer... you can make this recipe.
I've made a few adjustments in the version I'm posting they will be in parenthesis:
Ingredients:
3 c. white flour
1 Tbl sugar
1 tsp salt
1 Tbl baking powder
2 Tbl herbs (literally, just measure some of the dried stuff you have. I recommend rosemary, basil, and/or thyme)
1 c. freshly grated cheese (Instead I use 1.5-2 Tbl melted butter
2 beers; one for the recipe and one for the cook. Dark beer makes a darker sweeter bread; light beer makes a lighter bread, something like and IPA or ESB adds a tangy flavor
1. Turn oven on to 350F
2. Measure and dump dry ingredients into a big bowl. Mix with big spoon (or little spoon or hands if you have no spoons).
3. Melt butter in microwave. dump on top of dry ingredients.
4. open 1 beer. Drink
5. open second beer, pour over dry ingredients. Mix with spoon/hand/whatever.
6. put in a loaf pan
7. Bake about 45 min ( I bake or 50-55)
8. cool in pan 10 m.
9. cool on rack for 10 min.
10. congratulate self on a well made bread and drink another beer.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
VA shooting
My mom called me this evening to see if I was alright. Neither of us know anyone at VA Tech, what she was calling about was to see if I was scared of my students. If I had anyone in my classes who I thought might be violent/crazy/suicidal. Was I at risk to be shot by a student or fellow grad?
At first, I sort of blew off the question. Of course I'm not at risk. I go to Santa Cruz! Bannan slugs... hippies... we're a pretty chill group. We're dedicated to building a safe community and we try to tackle issues of on campus violence and sexual assault. I may be offered a 40 oz by a student* or if I'll make it out to the Porter meadow on Friday afternoon, but I can possibly imagine a student shooting me or my class.
There were warning signs, I told her. His profs were cued to disturbing behavior and he had been sent for mental health treatment.
"So what would you do if you had a student who raised red flags for you? How would you protect yourself? What if it was a fellow graduate student?"
And I was stumped. Being afraid of my students is not the answer (nor anything I feel). I certainly haven't seen any work produced for me or attitude problems in my cass that would raise alarm bells. Although my cell phones must be off rule seems more justified now. I encourage my students to talk to me when they are overwhelmed, to let me know I will work with them. I check in with the ones I know, and the ones I don't know as well but look a little like death warmed over - either physically or mentally.
But the question still remains: what do I do if I have a student who has sent signs that they may do harm to themselves of others? What is the procedure? Do I talk to the student first? The supervising professor? How do I follow up on how the admin might be dealing with the situation? What do you do when you know someone who desperately needs help but there's nothing that it seems you can do to help them get it?
How do we deal with suicidal undergrads? How do we deal with suicidal grads?
College is a stressful time. In addition to the pressures of school, being away from home, or being at home, life, sex, drugs, and rock and roll, the early 20s are a time when certain mental problems emerge. I had an acquaintence who attended the Engineering school north of my campus who had a mental breakdown while in college. He walked into someone's home, sat down at their kitchen table and simply refused to leave. He was checked into a hospital for in-patient care for an extended epriod of time, and, frankly, that was just the episode we knew about.
There's been a lot of talk on campus about the mental well-being of the student body and concers regarding the psychological health of the campus. Much of this was in wake of our chancellor's suicide, but I can only image the cries will get stronger after this week's shooting.
I guess what I want to know is what are we going to do about it? What should we do? and What can we do?
*this actually happened to me last quarter.
At first, I sort of blew off the question. Of course I'm not at risk. I go to Santa Cruz! Bannan slugs... hippies... we're a pretty chill group. We're dedicated to building a safe community and we try to tackle issues of on campus violence and sexual assault. I may be offered a 40 oz by a student* or if I'll make it out to the Porter meadow on Friday afternoon, but I can possibly imagine a student shooting me or my class.
There were warning signs, I told her. His profs were cued to disturbing behavior and he had been sent for mental health treatment.
"So what would you do if you had a student who raised red flags for you? How would you protect yourself? What if it was a fellow graduate student?"
And I was stumped. Being afraid of my students is not the answer (nor anything I feel). I certainly haven't seen any work produced for me or attitude problems in my cass that would raise alarm bells. Although my cell phones must be off rule seems more justified now. I encourage my students to talk to me when they are overwhelmed, to let me know I will work with them. I check in with the ones I know, and the ones I don't know as well but look a little like death warmed over - either physically or mentally.
But the question still remains: what do I do if I have a student who has sent signs that they may do harm to themselves of others? What is the procedure? Do I talk to the student first? The supervising professor? How do I follow up on how the admin might be dealing with the situation? What do you do when you know someone who desperately needs help but there's nothing that it seems you can do to help them get it?
How do we deal with suicidal undergrads? How do we deal with suicidal grads?
College is a stressful time. In addition to the pressures of school, being away from home, or being at home, life, sex, drugs, and rock and roll, the early 20s are a time when certain mental problems emerge. I had an acquaintence who attended the Engineering school north of my campus who had a mental breakdown while in college. He walked into someone's home, sat down at their kitchen table and simply refused to leave. He was checked into a hospital for in-patient care for an extended epriod of time, and, frankly, that was just the episode we knew about.
There's been a lot of talk on campus about the mental well-being of the student body and concers regarding the psychological health of the campus. Much of this was in wake of our chancellor's suicide, but I can only image the cries will get stronger after this week's shooting.
I guess what I want to know is what are we going to do about it? What should we do? and What can we do?
*this actually happened to me last quarter.
Monday, April 16, 2007
In!
I turned in my MA essay/thesis today!
And what do I get as a reward?
250 more pages on nationalism and notes and a reaction paper to type up!
Yay! I feel like a living PhD comic.
I *love* being a graduate student.
On another good note, I got to listen to 2 of my favorite professors lecture today on their favourite subjects: Toqueville and Genocide. So much to aspire to.
On a bad note: When I showed up to watch Peter the first thing he said was: shouldn't you be *makes typing motions with hands* and smiled.
Did I mention that graduate school is the most fun you'll have EVAR!!!11!!!
Seriously though, glad the paper is in, I feel good about it, and now, back to work.
And what do I get as a reward?
250 more pages on nationalism and notes and a reaction paper to type up!
Yay! I feel like a living PhD comic.
I *love* being a graduate student.
On another good note, I got to listen to 2 of my favorite professors lecture today on their favourite subjects: Toqueville and Genocide. So much to aspire to.
On a bad note: When I showed up to watch Peter the first thing he said was: shouldn't you be *makes typing motions with hands* and smiled.
Did I mention that graduate school is the most fun you'll have EVAR!!!11!!!
Seriously though, glad the paper is in, I feel good about it, and now, back to work.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Spike
When Luke and I moved in together in the spring of 2002, my mother offered to buy us a house warming gift. Instead of a bath mat or towels, Luke and I decided to bring home our first pet. The three of us went to Bird Crazy, the queer friendly, owned, and operated speciality bird store that most of my families feathered friends have come from. They sell only the birds they breed and help to rescue abandoned and no-longer-desired pets. After playing in the store for a good long while we decided on the bird for us: a baby spoon-fed cinnamon cockatiel.
I've lived with birds (and cats) for almost my whole life. For those who have never been exposed to birds, they are friendly, intelligent, quirky little creatures who really develop distinct personalities. We got a bird we figured was probably a male (it's hard to tell by coloring until they've hit puberty) and after three days, settled on "Spike" for his name (Turbo and Killer were also in the running). However, much like Dude (the grey cockatiel who we were sure was a male - until she started laying eggs) and Fred (my father's very confused bisexual female cockatoo), we realized within a couple of months that our baby boy bird was actually a baby girl bird. The major difference in tiels is that the males make much more noise and are more easily able to mimic sounds, so having a quiet female actually worked much better for apt living.
Spike was a picky bird. She wasn't nearly as adventurous with food as my other tiels, but she adored peas and popcorn. On the whole she preferred men to women, loved chewing on glasses, and found the true love of her life in Luke. She rarely screeched, frequently cuddled, and was never happier than when she was able to liberate a tension-held ball from someone's piercing.
Spike journeyed with us from San Diego to Glendale and Pasadena. In our big move to Santa Cruz we decided to leave her temporarily with my father and his wife, while we adjusted to grad school and new schedules. We were trying to figure out a time this summer when we could drive down to San Diego and bring her home to Santa Cruz, when I got the call from my father that they found her ill in the cage this morning. She passed while they were on the phone with the vet.
I'm more upset about Spike dying than I thought I would be. By now, we've all had pets and we've all had pets die on us - even if it's just the godlfish you won at the local fair. But Spike was Luke's and my first pet together. Luke never lived with birds and since having one in our home he's become a real bird lover. She was very much a part of our family - a very missed part that we were hoping to bring back home. She died fairly young for a tiel, I just hope she had a good life and knew how much she was loved.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wonder Jews Uni.... oh, man, that hurt...
I fucked up my left wrist. It's been weak since an overanxious knitting rampage back in the fall of '05, and I did something to it while typing like a mad woman in the last week and now I can barely type this. As a historian who takes all of her notes on her laptop, not being able to type is like walking by a bakery the morning you started your diet. Or for my lactose troubled readers, going to a cheese fondue party...
enough, I need to stop. I keep going and it just hurts. Kungfu and Knotty may get typed notes this week.
Between Tweak and myself, we win for totally stupid injuries.
Argh.
enough, I need to stop. I keep going and it just hurts. Kungfu and Knotty may get typed notes this week.
Between Tweak and myself, we win for totally stupid injuries.
Argh.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
What I did over Spring Break
We went to see the Weaners at Ano Nuevo (almost 1,000)!
Visited the snow leopards at the San Francisco Zoo
Took my in-laws to San Francisco
Planted our garden (3 tomato, 6 jalepeno, 6 green pepper, 6 peas, shallots, cilantro, and basil)
And hiked 10 miles round trip to see beautiful waterfall.
Visited the snow leopards at the San Francisco Zoo
Took my in-laws to San Francisco
Planted our garden (3 tomato, 6 jalepeno, 6 green pepper, 6 peas, shallots, cilantro, and basil)
And hiked 10 miles round trip to see beautiful waterfall.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Here I go
In addition to "grammar nazi" I've got to start calling kungfuramone, magic8ball.
You see, back in Jan? Feb? Maybe it was even Nov, kungfu turned to me and said, "I think you're an Irish historian." Having taken only one class on British history, and nothing specifically on Ireland, I skoffed at his remark, rolled my eyes, and went back to pounding through German's dative, genitive, accusative, nominative, der-die-das-dem-den-des cases. Because of the whole public access bit of the interwebs, I've been hesitant to blog about my increasing frustrations with the awful german language and my slow academic distancing from the German history I thought I would be writing. All the while I've had a wonderful (and frustrating, hey, it is academics...) time with my Whiteboys research project. I'm fascinated by scars and markings as the visible trace of the violent intersection be ween two bodies, and it looks like I may have a research "in" into the penal system in 18th century Ireland. Doing work on the penal system and markings on the body would give me: 1) the visual culture I like so much 2) a research topic with room to bring in some cool theoretical works 3) a topic it so far looks like no one has done, and 4) work in English! (some French, but that's fine). Regardless, I've been hesitant to make a quick decision, and so have taken this quarter to talk to everyone I know under the sun for their input, and dwell on the idea of switching countries and centuries.
Yesterday I spoke with my (ex)advisor. He not only was fine with the switch but thought it was a wonderful idea. (20th century German Jewish history is what we call in the biz: oversaturated). So, a few more pieces of paper work, and it's done. I'm not exactly going to be an "Irish historian" (too specific), but will be a historian of the British Isles (see, not Britain-centric, recognizes the isles separately, gives me more room to work with), in the late 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. We're going to try to reposition the Isles w/in a larger European context, specifically by looking at the Catholic connections between Scotland, France, and Ireland, and just see what I can make of it. I'll be able to approach the 20th century German stuff through my minor in modern Jewish history, which will give me the 19th/20th century background and teaching material for most of Europe as well as religion in modern world history.
So good-bye (at least for the time being):
and hello:
You see, back in Jan? Feb? Maybe it was even Nov, kungfu turned to me and said, "I think you're an Irish historian." Having taken only one class on British history, and nothing specifically on Ireland, I skoffed at his remark, rolled my eyes, and went back to pounding through German's dative, genitive, accusative, nominative, der-die-das-dem-den-des cases. Because of the whole public access bit of the interwebs, I've been hesitant to blog about my increasing frustrations with the awful german language and my slow academic distancing from the German history I thought I would be writing. All the while I've had a wonderful (and frustrating, hey, it is academics...) time with my Whiteboys research project. I'm fascinated by scars and markings as the visible trace of the violent intersection be ween two bodies, and it looks like I may have a research "in" into the penal system in 18th century Ireland. Doing work on the penal system and markings on the body would give me: 1) the visual culture I like so much 2) a research topic with room to bring in some cool theoretical works 3) a topic it so far looks like no one has done, and 4) work in English! (some French, but that's fine). Regardless, I've been hesitant to make a quick decision, and so have taken this quarter to talk to everyone I know under the sun for their input, and dwell on the idea of switching countries and centuries.
Yesterday I spoke with my (ex)advisor. He not only was fine with the switch but thought it was a wonderful idea. (20th century German Jewish history is what we call in the biz: oversaturated). So, a few more pieces of paper work, and it's done. I'm not exactly going to be an "Irish historian" (too specific), but will be a historian of the British Isles (see, not Britain-centric, recognizes the isles separately, gives me more room to work with), in the late 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. We're going to try to reposition the Isles w/in a larger European context, specifically by looking at the Catholic connections between Scotland, France, and Ireland, and just see what I can make of it. I'll be able to approach the 20th century German stuff through my minor in modern Jewish history, which will give me the 19th/20th century background and teaching material for most of Europe as well as religion in modern world history.
So good-bye (at least for the time being):
and hello:
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I can see the light
I'm nearly done with this quarter. I have to clean up my MA biblio (scheduled to be done in the 3 hour exam I will proctor at 8am tomorrow), grade 40 finals, write evals, and then I'm finished. The end to this quarter hasn't been the frantic push that my other quarters have been, but I feel pretty much fried. I have things I should probably be doing this afternoon (straightening the house, sewing pillowcases for my MIL (late xmas gift), other stuff I can't really think of right now...) but I'm not doing any of it. I did some work on my thesis this morning, re-edited Tweak's paper on Rousseau vs. the American Founders, and then picked up free herb seeds at the Affiliates. After that, I went to Hart's and finally picked up the fabrics I will need to make a "Garden of Eden" quilt block (jungle, snake, apple, sky). I think I'm going to the gym around 5:45, but until then I'm going to put on the TV, knit, and vege.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Tattoo
I dream a lot at the end of the quarter. It must have something to do with stress.
In my latest dream Luke and I were talking about the possibility of me getting a tattoo. he was amenable to the idea, provided that I get one of two things: Nibbler from futurama, or Tyra Banks. The idea behind Nibbler was that Nibbler is adorable, I'm adorable, so it's like adorable squared. The reasoning behind Tyra is that dreamland-Luke thought she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, next to me, and that if I got her photo tattooed on my tush that he would have the best of both worlds.
I'm not sure what this dream means, but I'll take it as a sign that he is warming to the idea of me inked.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Confessions of a naught knitter.
I've been a bad knitter. I broke all of the cardinal rules, and now I'm paying for it.
1. I didn't check gauge
2. I "eyeballed" rather than measuring
3. I knit merrily away w/o really looking at my piece in progress, so as to catch my mistakes early on.
I am (was) working on a second Paris Loop for my mother. I love my first one. I cast on and knit away. I made one a year ago so the second one should turn out the same, right? Wrong. My second piece is almost 5 inches longer and at least 5 inches wider. My gauge is significantly looser (8 sts/4" versus 10sts/4"). Although my knitting group thought the second piece was cute, the difference between the two garments (the first one actually being cute, and the second one looking sort of like the drape you wear at a hair salon" was astounding when I tried them on one after another. So I'm frogging it and will begin again. I think I'm going to make a hat before I start again. I need some more knitting satisfaction.
Whenever I try to make clothing I spend more time ripping than I do knitting. I don't want to have to be a careful knitter, and I pay for it. Time for me to buckle down and pay more attention.
Grrr.
1. I didn't check gauge
2. I "eyeballed" rather than measuring
3. I knit merrily away w/o really looking at my piece in progress, so as to catch my mistakes early on.
I am (was) working on a second Paris Loop for my mother. I love my first one. I cast on and knit away. I made one a year ago so the second one should turn out the same, right? Wrong. My second piece is almost 5 inches longer and at least 5 inches wider. My gauge is significantly looser (8 sts/4" versus 10sts/4"). Although my knitting group thought the second piece was cute, the difference between the two garments (the first one actually being cute, and the second one looking sort of like the drape you wear at a hair salon" was astounding when I tried them on one after another. So I'm frogging it and will begin again. I think I'm going to make a hat before I start again. I need some more knitting satisfaction.
Whenever I try to make clothing I spend more time ripping than I do knitting. I don't want to have to be a careful knitter, and I pay for it. Time for me to buckle down and pay more attention.
Grrr.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
My basket floweth over
This weekend I went to my first Knitting Convention with Knotty Historian and another friendly knitting companion. I learned that knitters can sometimes be a little... intense about their craft, you can make yarn out of anything - even your pet hair, and the knitted vintage looking lingerie is something every knitter should make in their lifetime. I bought more yarn that I have ever owned in my life: 
While I'm on a knitting topic, I have some finished pieces:
Fetching with an extra cable at the base and at the end. (they're drying in this pic):
My Rainbow Scarf (full and detail), made lovingly in Schafer yarn's Judy Garland - a birthday gift from knotty:
And finally, the soaking of Hot Head - a new hat for Mr. Wonderful. You'll get the full photo once its dry
While I'm on a knitting topic, I have some finished pieces:
Fetching with an extra cable at the base and at the end. (they're drying in this pic):
My Rainbow Scarf (full and detail), made lovingly in Schafer yarn's Judy Garland - a birthday gift from knotty:
And finally, the soaking of Hot Head - a new hat for Mr. Wonderful. You'll get the full photo once its dry
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Late?
This is late, but I'm always late. So it works. Happy Valentine's Day! I'm less of a Valentine's Day fan and more of a "it's an excuse to do something different" kind of person. I think it's the Catholic in me. Let's see... it's Thursday, we want to do something... there's gotta be a saint around here that we can celebrate... ah ha! Swedish saints: Winaman, Unaman & Sunaman, OSB Monks MM (AC)
"Died c. 1040. No this isn't a rock group. Rather this trio of nephews of Saint Sigfrid of Wexlow, followed their uncle to the Swedish mission. The Benedictine monks were martyred at Wexlow (Växjö) by beheading. There bodies were buried deep in the forest but the heads, which had been thrown into the nearby lake, were recovered and enshrined in the church at Växjö until the Lutherans removed them. These three are venerated in Sweden (Benedictines, Husenbeth)." (from www.stpatrickdc.org).
So bring on the ale and a toast to Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman.
In all seriousness, good times were had last night. Champagne + spicy Thai food + aqua teen hungar force = <3. I like excuses to do nice things for people, so I hooked mr. wonderful up with a new copy of Guitar World and cupcakes from the Buttery.
"Died c. 1040. No this isn't a rock group. Rather this trio of nephews of Saint Sigfrid of Wexlow, followed their uncle to the Swedish mission. The Benedictine monks were martyred at Wexlow (Växjö) by beheading. There bodies were buried deep in the forest but the heads, which had been thrown into the nearby lake, were recovered and enshrined in the church at Växjö until the Lutherans removed them. These three are venerated in Sweden (Benedictines, Husenbeth)." (from www.stpatrickdc.org).
So bring on the ale and a toast to Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman.
In all seriousness, good times were had last night. Champagne + spicy Thai food + aqua teen hungar force = <3. I like excuses to do nice things for people, so I hooked mr. wonderful up with a new copy of Guitar World and cupcakes from the Buttery.
Monday, February 12, 2007
the library smells funny
It's not just the "old book smell", there's a really musty smell in our library that drives me nuts.
4.75 hours of looking through microfilm. I made it through 3.5 reels today and collected 65 pages worth of printed articles. I really hope I can use it. What I would like to find: detailed descriptions of the Whiteboy Outrages accompanied by pictures. What I am finding: most of the descriptions include the language "lawless and dastardly" to describe the Whiteboys and/or their acts, followed by "committed their usual Outrages/usual acts", and "nary a night is silent with these rogues about." The language is pretty awesome, although low on the details. What happened to sensationalist journalism?
some favourites:
"The White Boys are, if possible, more audacious than ever..."
"We are sorry to acquaint the public,that those riotous people called White Boys, whom we imagined had sufficient sense to repent of their former wicked proceedings, are still so insensible to their own safety, as to begin their usual (can't read word) and unmeaning excursions."
Last note, best music to listen to when sifting through Irish newspapers on microfilm: Flogging Molly, of course.
From Salty Dog:
They threw a rope around yer neck
To watch you dance the jig of death
Then left ya for the starvin' crows
Hoverin' like hungry whores
One flew down plucked out yer eye
The other he had in his sights
Ya snarled at him, said leave me be
I need the bugger so I can see
and Tobacco:
'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure
They dragged us from our homeland
With the musket and their gun
Cromwell and his roundheads
Battered all we know
Shackled hopes of freedom
We're now but stolen goods
Darken the horizon
Blackened from the sun
This rotten cage of Bridgetown
Is where I now belong
I feel a little like Tweak, getting excited about mentions of Oliver Cromwell (Ollie C?) in my Irish punk.
**To be clear, I couldn't give a flying rat's ass about Oliver Cromwell, it's the incorporation of historical anger, hell, pirates, and getting drunk that really rocks my socks.
**The Dance Hall Crashers is another good choice.
4.75 hours of looking through microfilm. I made it through 3.5 reels today and collected 65 pages worth of printed articles. I really hope I can use it. What I would like to find: detailed descriptions of the Whiteboy Outrages accompanied by pictures. What I am finding: most of the descriptions include the language "lawless and dastardly" to describe the Whiteboys and/or their acts, followed by "committed their usual Outrages/usual acts", and "nary a night is silent with these rogues about." The language is pretty awesome, although low on the details. What happened to sensationalist journalism?
some favourites:
"The White Boys are, if possible, more audacious than ever..."
"We are sorry to acquaint the public,that those riotous people called White Boys, whom we imagined had sufficient sense to repent of their former wicked proceedings, are still so insensible to their own safety, as to begin their usual (can't read word) and unmeaning excursions."
Last note, best music to listen to when sifting through Irish newspapers on microfilm: Flogging Molly, of course.
From Salty Dog:
They threw a rope around yer neck
To watch you dance the jig of death
Then left ya for the starvin' crows
Hoverin' like hungry whores
One flew down plucked out yer eye
The other he had in his sights
Ya snarled at him, said leave me be
I need the bugger so I can see
and Tobacco:
'Twas 1659 forgotten now for sure
They dragged us from our homeland
With the musket and their gun
Cromwell and his roundheads
Battered all we know
Shackled hopes of freedom
We're now but stolen goods
Darken the horizon
Blackened from the sun
This rotten cage of Bridgetown
Is where I now belong
I feel a little like Tweak, getting excited about mentions of Oliver Cromwell (Ollie C?) in my Irish punk.
**To be clear, I couldn't give a flying rat's ass about Oliver Cromwell, it's the incorporation of historical anger, hell, pirates, and getting drunk that really rocks my socks.
**The Dance Hall Crashers is another good choice.
How my garden grows
Never before in my life have I had a garden. With the exception of the citrus trees we had around our house, and the small watermelon and corn plants that sprung up from where my sister threw some seeds, we never grew our own produce. I think the primary reason for the citrus was so my dad always had mixers on hand. Unfortunately a cross pollination accident resulting in lemon-orange-grapefruits, and lemon-lime-kumquats resulted in some pretty nasty citrus.
We applied for and got a garden plot in our complex's community garden. Not knowing a thing about gardening, and having an extraordinary talent for killing green things (if they don't cry, how do I know they're hungry?), I haven't done a thing with the plot since the summer. The weeds, however, have colonized our garden. Following this weekend's rain, and a nasty letter from FSH, I decided to tackle the weeds.
I had never weeded anything before but this weekend I became a weeding machine. The tactile experience of massaging the base of the root in damp soil to get the damn thing to release was more fun that I ever thought it would be. After 45 min I had cleared the plot and redistributed the soil. Working in a field where you always have one more book, one more draft, one more article, I revel in hobbies where I have a tangible sense of completion. When I knit, I have a project at the end of it; same for quilting. Seeing a whole trashcan over-flowing with plant material you extracted from the ground was a wonderfully satisfying experience.I conquered the invading plants and can now prep for planting.
Which means I now have to figure out what to plant...
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Been a While
I had a very cheery post about knitting during the superbowl and wine tasting with mr. and mrs. kungfuramone that unfortunately got derailed by 1) my battery dying before I plugged in and 2) finding out that an old high school friend passed away on Sunday night due to a brain aneurysm. He was the slightly chubby, well-dressed, cracking wise, ladies man. Smooth in his goofiness and with an Irish twinkle that let him get away with anything (especially in class). Although I have fond memories of the 8 years I knew him, he is forever ingrained as the guy who asked me if I was "a moaner or a groaner", a question to which I had no qualifications to answer. It was actually much less offensive than I can seem to convey in writing, and the scene in particular-on the bus- is ingrained as one of those "typical" high school experiences. When I actually figured out which one I was (and no, I'm not telling), I later reflected back on that afternoon bus ride. Funny, the things you remember.
Although my friend's divorce announcement did not cause me to reflect on my own relationship, this "first" did. Pat left behind a wife of 3 years(also from the same high school), and a restaurant, although no children. There were no symptoms, his wife just found him in the morning. I think less about what would happen if I died and more about losing Luke. Would I stay in Santa Cruz? Move home? Which home? West Coast? East Coast? Stay in the program? Deal with my loss by throwing myself into nothing but history, or break down and never return? Losing your partner is something that I think crosses every one's mind from time to time as a "what if..."- but this death of an old friend who was my own age feels different.
Not exactly a happy post, but they can't all be.
Although my friend's divorce announcement did not cause me to reflect on my own relationship, this "first" did. Pat left behind a wife of 3 years(also from the same high school), and a restaurant, although no children. There were no symptoms, his wife just found him in the morning. I think less about what would happen if I died and more about losing Luke. Would I stay in Santa Cruz? Move home? Which home? West Coast? East Coast? Stay in the program? Deal with my loss by throwing myself into nothing but history, or break down and never return? Losing your partner is something that I think crosses every one's mind from time to time as a "what if..."- but this death of an old friend who was my own age feels different.
Not exactly a happy post, but they can't all be.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Happiness...
... is a warm electric blanket. After visiting over the one rainy weekend in December my mom decided that Luke and I needed to be warm. So she bought us 2 electric blankets, one for the bedroom (remember, our bedroom gets no heat and has very drafty windows) and one for the upstairs (which gets heat, but heating a not well insulated house gets... how do you say... expensive). I've never had an electric blanket before but I think I'm in love. Normally I rely on the heat radiating from my laptop battery as I work on the couch, but now I can I actually stay warm all over rather just on one part of my leg. What can I say, I live for the small pleasures.
And speaking of small pleasures, JK Rowlings announced that the final Harry Potter book is coming out on July 21, 2007. The 5th film will be released on the 13th. I became a Potter fan around book three for two reasons: because magic is cool, and I like the pure escapism of the books. Hogwarts looks like way more fun that high school (or college, or grad school). Granted, I have to give some props to Luke for pointing out some serious gender issues in the series (Harry, who is a good magician but generally a fuck up, is always superior to Hermionie, who is smart and talented enough to be able to school everyone and their mother, always has to play second fiddle/gets taken out before the big battle). Nonetheless, it looks to be a good July.And because I'm in favor of gratuitous nudity, Harry like you've never seen him before:
Monday, January 29, 2007
First one down, of sorts
A good friend of mine from the college years, with whom I've kept in-6mo-updates touch, announced her divorce today. Apparently it was finalized in November after 1.5 years of marriage. Sadly, it's not exactly a shock (the wedding was actually a more surprising decision), but it is the first one of my friends from a younger part of my life to get divorced.
We're not close, it doesn't affect me in a way that makes me look deeply at my relationship and wonder, or anything like that. I guess I'm just recording it as one of those life's firsts.
We're not close, it doesn't affect me in a way that makes me look deeply at my relationship and wonder, or anything like that. I guess I'm just recording it as one of those life's firsts.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Wine, wine, wine
For my readers who do not know: I love Trader Joe's. I love their food, I love their beer, their cheese, and their wine.
My recommendations for tonight:
1- Old Moon Old Vines Zin is outstanding (and $5 a bottle). I also love my husband who when I asked "Should we put wine in the pasta sauce?" answered, "Definitely. And let's break out the expensive $5 bottle instead of the Shaw this time."
Honestly though, nice body, not as heavy as most Zins, but also less fruity, with a better finish and a better blend.
2-Trader Joe's (relabeled Gordon Biersch) Winterbrew. 7.5% sweet dopplebock and very good for the $5/6 pack price.
3-Trader Joes special ale that comes in a wine bottle with a champagne top, 2006 Vintage Ale. This is bottled and produced by unibroue, and outstanding Canadian brewery that brews in the Belgian style. More flavorful than a Chamay, but with all the complexity. This is basically unibroue's "Terrible" (pronounce it French-style) rebottled at and $5 a 750 ml rather than 10. It's very good, very strong (9% I think) and outstanding with burgers, nachos, or a good, rare, steak. (then again, what isn't?)
My recommendations for tonight:
1- Old Moon Old Vines Zin is outstanding (and $5 a bottle). I also love my husband who when I asked "Should we put wine in the pasta sauce?" answered, "Definitely. And let's break out the expensive $5 bottle instead of the Shaw this time."
Honestly though, nice body, not as heavy as most Zins, but also less fruity, with a better finish and a better blend.
2-Trader Joe's (relabeled Gordon Biersch) Winterbrew. 7.5% sweet dopplebock and very good for the $5/6 pack price.
3-Trader Joes special ale that comes in a wine bottle with a champagne top, 2006 Vintage Ale. This is bottled and produced by unibroue, and outstanding Canadian brewery that brews in the Belgian style. More flavorful than a Chamay, but with all the complexity. This is basically unibroue's "Terrible" (pronounce it French-style) rebottled at and $5 a 750 ml rather than 10. It's very good, very strong (9% I think) and outstanding with burgers, nachos, or a good, rare, steak. (then again, what isn't?)
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
State of the Union
For anyone who is watching tonight, may I suggest: the state of the union drinking game.
A few nice things about getting older
At the ripe old age of 27, I have made some observations of things that seem to be getting easier in life rather than harder:
1. Teenagers listen to you more. Or at least they do when they're drunk and you're asking them to keep the party down, go to bed, and get off my lawn!
2. I don't get as embarassed trying new things for the first time and looking like a total fool.
3. My grey streak will kick serious ass when it grows in, and until then, I get to color it sparkly henna red.
4. Letting go of some of the body nonesence. A friend recently asked me if the body image baggage ever goes away. I'm sure some of it remains, but it does seem to get easier in you late twenties. As someone who has particularly memorable teenage experiences of sobbing in dressing rooms (flourescent lights are pure torture), the last few years I'm grown increasingly comfortable in my own skin. We'll see if that holds up as the wrinkles come...
5. Getting to make references to my young adult pop culture, have the references missed completely by my students/younger generation, and then getting to bemoan the state of today's youth/culture to my commrades.
6. Increasingly not getting carded.
1. Teenagers listen to you more. Or at least they do when they're drunk and you're asking them to keep the party down, go to bed, and get off my lawn!
2. I don't get as embarassed trying new things for the first time and looking like a total fool.
3. My grey streak will kick serious ass when it grows in, and until then, I get to color it sparkly henna red.
4. Letting go of some of the body nonesence. A friend recently asked me if the body image baggage ever goes away. I'm sure some of it remains, but it does seem to get easier in you late twenties. As someone who has particularly memorable teenage experiences of sobbing in dressing rooms (flourescent lights are pure torture), the last few years I'm grown increasingly comfortable in my own skin. We'll see if that holds up as the wrinkles come...
5. Getting to make references to my young adult pop culture, have the references missed completely by my students/younger generation, and then getting to bemoan the state of today's youth/culture to my commrades.
6. Increasingly not getting carded.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
One more...
Last Thursday night I had a dream that the goat proposed to my mom and they decided to get married. Yeah, my mom, who he has never met and is already married herself. It ended with my screaming, "I will not call you dad!"
Needless to say, it was pretty fucked up, and I forgot about it until reading goat's blog when it all came back. I'm not sure what I means, and I really don't want to know. I generally have fucked up dreams so I'll be sure to keep 'em coming as they float through my brain.
Needless to say, it was pretty fucked up, and I forgot about it until reading goat's blog when it all came back. I'm not sure what I means, and I really don't want to know. I generally have fucked up dreams so I'll be sure to keep 'em coming as they float through my brain.
Tahoe
I spent a wonderful 4 days in Tahoe over MLK Weekend. It took us 7 hours to get up there, but worth every minute waiting in traffic (and we hit none on the way home). I decided to take a skiing lesson my first day and it was the best $80 for lesson, lift ticket, and rentals, that I ever spent. My teacher was great and I had a wonderful time after that. Luke, Adam, Prabath and I all went out the second day as well. Despite a early set back due to an overestimation of my skill and confidence level, I went back to some easier slopes in the afternoon and had a blast.
Tahoe itself was cold (-5 - 20), but beautiful, and I'd love to go back.
I had time to get some knitting in, making progress on my "muppet scarf" and reknitting my dark red and gold scarf (pics will follow on Sat).
Two final pics of the hardcore snow-goers and further proof that snow clothing (especially the jacket I inherited from an old high school bfriend) is super hawt.
Tahoe itself was cold (-5 - 20), but beautiful, and I'd love to go back.
I had time to get some knitting in, making progress on my "muppet scarf" and reknitting my dark red and gold scarf (pics will follow on Sat).
Two final pics of the hardcore snow-goers and further proof that snow clothing (especially the jacket I inherited from an old high school bfriend) is super hawt.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Clarification and Dye Release
A brief note of clarification re: last post and Kungfu's comment re: food trumping sex. In the case of hot wings (and chile relleno burritos), it is the lingering chili/pepper oil that is sometimes forgotten in the heat of passion, only to remind the receiving victim of its presence with a slow and steady burn. If you wouldn't touch your eyes after handling certain foods, hands (and mouths) off pink bits, too.
and now for something completely different:
I had dye release with my henna. It only took 49 freakin' hours. But I glopped it on my head, read about Russian Jews, and several hours later have meadowy-smelling auburn hair. Hennaing my hair combines three of my favourite things: cooking, making a mess, and changing, even if subtle, my hair. I dig the no chemicals and they make my white streak bright red. Maybe when I'm completely white/grey I'll fulfill my dreams of becoming a redhead.
I also got to spend a lovely hour knitting with the Santa Cruz Fiber Artists, and tried out a new Eggplant recipe that Luke, who hates Eggplant, really liked.
I'll post pics when I con Luke into taking some. Although I don't think anyone beyond my fellow Santa Cruzians read this, so you can just see me in real life.
Also, for some reason my spell check isn't working, so I apologize for the misspellings.
and now for something completely different:
I had dye release with my henna. It only took 49 freakin' hours. But I glopped it on my head, read about Russian Jews, and several hours later have meadowy-smelling auburn hair. Hennaing my hair combines three of my favourite things: cooking, making a mess, and changing, even if subtle, my hair. I dig the no chemicals and they make my white streak bright red. Maybe when I'm completely white/grey I'll fulfill my dreams of becoming a redhead.
I also got to spend a lovely hour knitting with the Santa Cruz Fiber Artists, and tried out a new Eggplant recipe that Luke, who hates Eggplant, really liked.
I'll post pics when I con Luke into taking some. Although I don't think anyone beyond my fellow Santa Cruzians read this, so you can just see me in real life.
Also, for some reason my spell check isn't working, so I apologize for the misspellings.
Monday, January 08, 2007
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