Quizes =)

What People Think of Your Mouth

People see you both as reserved and sweet. You tend to be very sensitive and detail oriented. The smallest things can please or annoy you. You tend to be internally moody. Perceptive and intuitive, you understand people quickly - though you usually won't tell them.

What Does Your Mouth Say About You?

This sounds mostly true. I don’t feel like I’m very moody though....most of the time I’m happy and content.

Your Personality is Very Rare (INFP)

Your personality type is dreamy, romantic, elegant, and expressive. Only about 5% of all people have your personality, including 6% of all women and 4% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

yup yup, that’s me. I’m surprised a quiz with so few questions could come up with that same Kiersy type so accurately.

yay! i love being me =)

Your Personality Cluster is Introverted Feeling

You are: Tolerant, flexible, and open to new ideas. A stickler for integrity and authenticity. Passionate about causes, beliefs, or politics. Likely to have many "best friends" from many walks of life

What's Your Personality Cluster?

ooo look, another kiersy thing. =)
hmmm.....I always did have trouble figuring out the ‘best friend’ thing, I love so many people so much! I’ve always had to have several.

What Your Favorite Color Green Says About You:

Balanced --- Relaxed --- Flexible Compassionate --- Philosophical --- Humble Loyal --- Inventive --- Unique

What Does Your Favorite Color Say About You?

GREEN!!! yay! I love Green! So Refreshing! I was quite surprised at this one actually, I didn’t expect it to be so detailed, or accurate, really, it’s spot on! I thought it was just going to be something silly, but then I read it, and I was like “wow” *warm fuzzies* =)

Aaaannnnd my second favorit color is:

What Your Favorite Color Purple Says About You:

Intuitive --- Seeking --- Creative Kind --- Self-Sacrificing --- Growth Oriented Strong --- Very Wise --- Rare

What Does Your Favorite Color Say About You?

not bad either....yes...yes...I see this, quite true. =)

They didn’t offer my third favorite color wich is Burgundy.....so I had to go with the one that had it’s place when I was younger.

What Your Favorite Color Pink Says About You:

Blissful --- Content --- Romantic Idealistic --- Expressive --- Artistic Funny --- Quirky --- Individualistic

What Does Your Favorite Color Say About You?

heh, wow, totally. this really is me too =)

That’s amazing how your favorite colors could really say so much about you.

What’s Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

Your Hair Should Be Red

Passionate, fiery, and sassy. You're a total smart aleck who's got the biggest personality around.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

Interesting. I definatley am not loud or sassy, etc. However, I used to always wish my hair was red. only not red red, hair red, which is actually orange, untill I realised that It wouldn’t go very well with a lot of colors, and I would probably have lots of freckles which are cute and charming, but not really me, after wich I decided I would prefer - if I were to change my hair color - to have it be black.....and if I was going to have a ‘funky’ color I’d add dark purple highlights.
......or if I was really going to be ‘out there’ I’d dye it a mixture of green and brown and have swirly brown tattoos all over and turn myself into a wood nymph. (are you scared now of what migth happen if I ever went off the deep end? ;)

You Are 35% Normal

You sure do march to your own beat... But you're so weird, people wonder if it's a beat at all You think on a totally different wavelength And it's often a chore to get people to understand you

How Normal Are You?

well, I think that has already been established, heheh =)

You Are Fall!

Thoughtful Expressive Creative Poetic Smart

What Season Woman Are You?

yes, I like autumn, my favorite season =)

What Your Face Says

At first glance, people see you as driven and ambitious. Overall, your true self is moody and dynamic. With friends, you seem thoughtful and interested in ideas. In love, you seem energetic - almost manic. In stressful situations, you seem selfish and moody.

What Do People Think Of Your Face?

hmmmm.....not so much. I’d be pretty surprised if people actually do see me that way. I’ve always guessed that people probably think I’m dtetermined/unhappy because I don’t tend to walk around with a smile even when I’m happy inside and my eyebrows are rather stright and dark - which coult be construed as glowering, sigh.... They probably also think I’m either squashable or haughty because I don’t make eye contact or friendly exchanges with random people. hmm....I wonder.

Your Aura is Violet

Idealistic and thoughtful, you have the mind and ideas to change the world. And you have the charisma of a great leader, even if you don't always use it! The purpose of your life: saying truths that other people dare not say Famous purples include: Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony Careers for you to try: Political Activist, Inventor, Life Coach

What Color Is Your Aura?

well, I like purple....but I don’t know that this is really me. I’m not much of a leader, and not very charismatic. As I just finnished saying, I think most people view me as stand-offish, or just plain wierd. More of an untouchable curiosity than a person. In any event I certainly don’t have any care to ‘Change the World’ or ‘Lead’ others.

Your Psyche is Blue

You are deeply emotional and very connected to everything (and everyone) around you. By simply understanding other people, you are able to help them heal and let go. While you are a very deep and thoughtful person, you do have a very silly, superficial side. When you are too blue: the weight of the world's problems hangs over you When you don't have enough blue: you lack perspective and understanding

What Color Is Your Psyche?

emotional, deep, understanding, helping others....yes, i think so. I dont’ prefer blue, but it’s not a bad color. It’s nice and calm.

You Are a Green Crayon

Your world is colored in harmonious, peaceful, natural colors. While some may associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around. Comfort is important to you. You like to feel as relaxed as possible - and you try to make others feel at ease. You're very happy with who you are, and it certainly shows! Your color wheel opposite is red. Every time you feel grounded, a red person does their best to shake you.

What Color Crayon Are You?

yay green again!

You Are Midnight

You are more than a little eccentric, and you're apt to keep very unusual habits. Whether you're a nightowl, living in a commune, or taking a vow of silence - you like to experiment with your lifestyle. Expressing your individuality is important to you, and you often lie awake in bed thinking about the world and your place in it. You enjoy staying home, but that doesn't mean you're a hermit. You also appreciate quality time with family and close friends.

What Time Of Day Are You?

Naturally.

You Are Kermit

Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know. You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems. Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green. Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!

The Muppet Personality Test

green again! =) I love Kermie!!

You Are 82% Peaceful

You are the epitome of inner peace and total calm. You are grounded, emotionally mature, and very wise. While no one's life is perfect, you have a great amount of perspective on the world - and you place in it.

How Peaceful Are You?

yes indeedy. although....I’m not calm all the time. I think that’d describe the overall flavor of my view of life, but I can be excitable. I get riled up at frustrations, and hyper with happiness, but I’d say that generally I feel content and pleased.

Now, this next one was hard because there really wasn’t an option that was totally right. I’m sort of a combination of three. When I sleep I’m usually halfway between my side and my stomach, with the bottom leg and arm stretched out straight -arm under the pillow, and toes hanging off the bed and tucked under the little bar at the end of it, while the top leg and arm are curled up close against me in more of the ‘fetal’ position. So, sort of fetal, sort of stomach, sort of side.

What Your Sleeping Position Says

You are secretly sensitive, but you often put up a front. Shy and private, you yearn for security. You take relationships slowly. You need lots of reassurances before you can trust. If you don't get enough sleep, you are: Cranky and a big baby It's hard to sleep next to you because: You are a light sleeper

What Does Your Sleeping Position Say About You?

yeah, pretty close. shy, yes, yearn for security, yes, I don’t know about slow relationships.....yes and no. I mean, I pretty much really like people rigth away, or I don’t like them and thus don’t make any effort to know them. With people I do like I feel like I tend to be very open right away, and share everything and find out everything.....and then after a while it’s like...what is there left to talk about??? so sometimes then it goes into an awkward lull. when I dont’ get enough sleep I usually feel like I’m going to throw up....which is not conducive to good moods. I am in NO WAY a light sleeper. Once I’m asleep I am dead to everything!

What Your Sleeping Position Says

You have a passion for everything - including sleeping. Outgoing and brash, you tend to still shock those who know you well. You tend to be selfish. You are the most likely type to take over the whole bed. You gravitate toward comfort and don't like extreme situations. If you don't get enough sleep, you are: In a very bad mood It's hard to sleep next to you because: You hog the covers.

What Does Your Sleeping Position Say About You?

Passion, yes! Yes, I like to enjoy my sleep! and get lots of it!
outgoing, no, brash, no. I do go for comfort. And I certainly hog the blankets. I actually NEED at least a whole queen sized comforter just to myself. seriously. I take the whole thing. And sometimes there still somewhere I’m feeling a draft. I can’t sleep without all that squishyness wedged in all around me, under me, between my legs, behind my back, on top of my feet. Yes, beautifull heavy squishy blankets pressing in all around me, ahhhh....then I am comfortable.

What Your Sleeping Position Says

You are calm and rational person with a good deal of balance in your life. Friends consider you to be kind, caring, and truly loyal. You are easy going and trusting. However, you are too sensible to fall for mind games. Open to the world, you are not afraid to be yourself. If you don't get enough sleep, you are: Able to cope It's hard to sleep next to you because: You're a bed hog

What Does Your Sleeping Position Say About You?

kind, caring, loyal yes, quite true. easy going, trusting, pretty much. not afriad to be me - that’s for sure! I suppose I cope....it’s easier to when I don’t have to have contact with any people for a couple of hours - which I usually don’t.

The Phantom of the Laundry Room is There Inside My Nose

I've always seemed to have a very keen sense of smell, however, as I am not a dog, this attribute has done little to enhance my existance, most of the time it's just a bother.

I bought new detergent this week, by accident. I thought 'orriginal scent' was the unscented variety of Tide, but apparently not. I knew instantly when I unscrewed the lid that a fatal mistake had been made, but there was nothing for it, and I washed my clothes anyway. I was smart enough not to risk the pillow cases in that though. I swear my nose is too good! I've been distracted for the last three days by the smell of the new detergent. It's there, everywhere I go. I keep noticing it because it's not normal. It's not that it's a bad smell, it's just different, and my nose keeps bringing that to my attention. I have no idea how long it'll take to get used to it. I may give up and go buy the right kind before I do laundry again.

This brings me to an odd topic though.....You see, I'm on this quest, have been for years. There are these two elusive smells that I really like, but have been unable to find the source of. They are both 'clean' scents. One smells distinctly like clean laundry, but a very particular variety of clean laundry, and the other smells like some kind of bar soap. I've smelled them on other people a hundred times, but I've never been able to actually find a bar soap or detergent for sale in the grocery store that smells precicely like those ones I like. It's really very perplexing. How can they be in such common use, but not commonly found in the market? Of course the idea of asking people what soap and detergent they use has crossed my mind, but the trouble is I've only smelled them on people that I don't know well, and it would just seem really wierd to be asking your UPS delivery man what kind of soap he washes with =p It'd sound like some kind of lame pick up line or something "You smell so clean! I just love your detergent!" So while I'd love to try lots of different soaps to try to find whatever this one is, I also don't think my nose could handle all the other ones in between....sigh....

all in a dither

whatever is one to do when one wants equally to sing and to eat?

my hand and my mouth cannot figure what it is they are about....it's like playing the trying-to-pass-someone-in-the-hall dance with one's self.

thought of the day

Sometimes it’s harder to do the simple things than the difficult ones.

Things that are simple, easy, mundane are easier to put off or write off. We take them for granted. We’re not on the alert, not trying our best, not really thinking about them at all.....so we just don’t do them, or don’t pay enough attention to them when we do. We’re not alert or on guard when it comes to small things, but we are with big, important, difficult things. It’s easy to shrug off doing a simple worksheet for a boring class because it’s not worth the bother, it doesn’t have sweeping consequences - it’s easy to forget because it’s not big and looming. While doing a big paper is practically more difficult, we’re more likely to pay attention to it, to try harder on it, to not forget it; so it gets done, when the little worksheets don’t. So in a way....it’s easier to do the hard thing, than the easy one because fighting our laziness or inattentiveness is harder than doing the hard thing.

I was thinking about this not so much in regard to school (that was just an example), but life in general. It’s easy to spend a lot of money on a bunch of little things because we buy them without even thinking about them, but hard to spend the same ammount on one large thing because we see it as a big deal and take more time to consider it’s worth and look at our accounts. It’s easier to not do simple favors for other people all day, like opening a door, or giving them a random encouragement, or paying attention to what they’re doing and getting out of the way for them, or remembering to do a simple request like closing the door again on your way out, while it’s dificult to not stop everything and comfort someone who’s just heard that someone they love has died. Dropping everything and sitting with them is more inconveinent, or takes more effort than those other things, but it’s not easily put off. It’s easy to forget to thank God for little blessings like getting green lights all the way to work, or the cofee shop not being out of your favorite pastry, or finding the pen you misplaced, when we would never forget to spend a long time praying and thanking Him and praising Him to others for healing someone of cancer or a missions trip going really well.

Perhaps we need to be a little more intentional toward the small things. While they don’t of themselves have grand effects, there are a lot more of them than the ‘big’ things, and they do add up. All those little things can set the tone for a class, a relationship, or your very life.

Of course this is a lot easier contemplated than practiced. sigh.....

jurassic chores

I just saw the most ginormous moth. seriously this went waaaay beyond steroids. I'm telling you this thing was the size of a bat! which was what I thought it was at first when I opened the laundry room door, flipped on the lights, and saw this black thing flying around the bulb. I swear I heard it squeak - can they do that? do bugs even have vocal chords? I jumped back out the door and shut it as it swooped about. But then when I cautiously peeked in again it had settled on the curtain and I saw that it was actually a very large bug! like it was cross-bred with an ostritch or something. You hear about huge bugs, but you never actually see them. I'm sure I looked pretty odd crouched by the laundry room door and slowly creeping inside like I was spying, heh =) I managed to get my dry clothes without disturbing it agian. That was really rather scary though. Maybe an actuall bat would have been scarier, but it would have been pretty gross to be hit by a gigantic frenzied hairy moth too! heh......it was like Hagrid as a moth - 'too big to be allowed.'

waving the little white flag at wakefullness

ok I surrender. It's not even 1pm yet on this saterday and I don't think I can cling to sleep any longer. I've managed to totallly wrench my neck with all my turning over and insisting on burying my head again, so it's not like it's even comfortable anymore. I'd forgotten how good summer is at robbing you of sleep, that is, I'd forgotten how impossible it is to sleep when it's hot and you don't have air conditioning. Fans just don't do it for me. I naturally get really hot when I sleep as it is and just blowing more warm air at me doesn't nearly help enough. Then there's also the noise that I have to get used to again, and the constant tickling of the little wispy hairs in the wind which I will never get used to. As much as heat makes me feel like doing nothing but lying around, it also prevents me from sleeping very well or very long. sigh..... I think I'll go have some ice-cream for breakfast

one man's trash.....

not that you need to hear it agian, but this is going to be another one of those 'I am wierd' statements, probably which you've heard before, but I was thinking about this, so....blogpost. =)

(I'm working backward through a train of thought here)

Although I like to be truthfull even in those kind of formulaic verbal exchanges which are actually just an acknowlegement of our fellow beings rather than intrerested concerened inquireies or conversation starters, I have given up in some respects. While usually if I answer 'good' to 'how are you/how's it goin' which I more frequently do than most people I know, I truely feel that way and am not just giving you a 'Disney-fied' version of my outlook, I cannot say the same for my reply to such things as 'nice weather out' and 'it's a beautifull day isn't it?'. In these cases I just smile and nod and say yes. That is because nobody wants to hear me gripe when they're cheery and I've grown tired of having to try to explain why sunshine and heat and blue skys make me grumpy and ill and lazy, and how a good heavy thunder-shower right now would do loads for my disposition.

so, yes, I know, my treasure is (mostly) everyone else's trash. seems to happen that way a lot.

Which leads me to the subject of lemons. Actually they are a bit like sunshine now that I think about it (too caustic). People seem to like lemon. Maybe not eating actual lemons, but they definatley seem to have positive reactions to lemon flavored and lemon scented things (which are actually quite different from real lemons' smell and flavor which tends to be less sweet and more bitter, but they like that too). I, naturally, hate lemon anything. (I also hate- no, feel extreeme revulsion toward 'handi-wipes'. always have. they are slimey, and gross, and inevitably lemon scented!) So, naturally, they cut off our supply of nice, soft, absorbant, actually non-scented (not just we-didn't-try-to-cover-up-the-nasty-smell-of-this-scented) swiffers for dusting, and replaced them with lemon scented lysol wipes. I used to be the queen of dusting at work. not anymore. The also switched the regular nasty door-stop worthy frosted sugar cookies we get in the cafe (but which inevitably get delivered to me instead) to the ultra nasty door-stop worthy frosted lemon flavored cookies, which saturate their packaging in that lemony scent and after I open them it sits there reeking next to me in the trash can all afternoon. Meanwhile people rave about how good the cookies are now, and think the back-room smells nice.

My dislike of lemons extends to pretty much anything citrus, acidic, or sour. (though I adore pineapples even though they are citrus and acidic, but I like them because of their flavor, and only put up with the citrusyness and acidicness because of how much I like their sweet taste.) --remember I'm following a train of thought backwards here.-- So oranges and I are not really on friendly terms, although we do have a working relationship =)

and now I come to what I planned to post about in the first place: I had a new flavored yawn yesterday which so far takes the cake for nastiness over sharpie - orange scented chalk-board cleaner. yuck! not only would you not want to swallow that, but it's also infused with memories of childhood afternoons spent cleaning my mother's chalkboards after school. =(

sorry to sound so gripe-y I'm actually in a pleasant laid back mood seeing as it's friday and almost the longest day of the year so it's still a lazy warm-ish twillight outside at 8:30. happy solsitce =)

Open Ends

If I remember correctly the Kiersy Temperament Sorter says P’s (perceiving people) are supposed to like open-ended-ness more that closed-ness because they like the potential possibilities, the options. I’d say this is in many ways true of me. I do like to make tentative plans. I want them to be probable (or at least know the rough percentage of likelihood) so I can have some idea what to expect and prepare for, and how much to allow my hopes to get up, but I don’t like to have all the details set in stone. I may be disappointed if something doesn’t work out after all, but it doesn’t disturb the core of my being just for the fact that the plan changed. Yet I’m not a totally up in the air type person. Some things I do like to view as a ‘done deal’.
What I’ve recently been contemplating is that I’ve found that it is actually easier for me to quit something right in the middle, than at a 'natural' break. I always prefer to finish an entire unit of whatever, but if I’m not going to be able to finish it then it’s easier for me to just stop instantly rather than at a sub-division. This is especially true for books. If I finish a chapter I always feel compelled to flip the page and start the next, but I can fairly easily stop mid-sentence, fold the corner down, and be relatively unbothered by thoughts about the book till the next time I have a chance to pick it up again. I’m also this way with Knitting. If I finnish a row I automatically start into the next and it’s really a conscious struggle to make myself stop. But, if I just stop in the middle of the row I’m fine. Somehow stopping in the middle breaks me out of the ‘gotta get things done, gotta get things done’ mode. I can be extreemly driven by this need to accomplish which feeds itself (the more I accomplish the more motivation I have) to the point of forgetting and pushing aside things like sleep and food and the bathroom, etc. for hours upon hours upon hours. However, once some distraction unlocks me from that mode I’m able to just get up and walk away with hardly a backward glance. Which would also explain why I have many unfinished projects. Once away, their unfinished nature does not pleague my thoughts....the ‘get it done’ trance nolonger holds me. Once I am not working, not accomplishing, I find it quite easy to merely think about a project but never lift a finger. This explains why I don’t just get up early and do things. Once asleep, once comfy in bed I have little motivation to get out of it. I may think about things I’d like to do, but they have very little weight on the scale of choices. And this also explains why I have trouble going to bed; because once I finally do get around to starting something I get locked in and don’t want to stop till it’s completely done - partly because I know if I leave now in the middle it’s likely I won’t get back to it.
One thing in which I absolutely hate open-ended-ness in, however, is space. If I’m in a room I want the door closed. I don’t like open doors, they make me uneasy - I feel like I’m on display in a fishbowl. Open windows are also unsettling. While a room may need the breeze from outside I am always reluctant to open a window, or remain in a room once I have. If I do it feels rather like I’ve got the radio on quietly tuned to fuzz - it’s just back there, something’s not quite right, I can’t feel totally focused. I’m terribly sensitive to drafts which I find uncomfortable and distracting. I also greatly dislike un-used space. I’m not terribly fond of open space in general, but if it’s settled, if it’s used though open - which is possible - it’s ok. No-man’s-lands really bother on me though. I especially can’t stand unfilled corners. Even if the whole wall is empty, there HAS to be something in the corners (and if there’s a big lump of stuff in the center, I will probably divide it into the corners in order to feel more at ease). Another similar thing is that I simply cannot be on my bed without pulling the covers up. It just feels too wierd and open, because somehow the covers are supposed to be there. I also almost always prefer to have something in my lap if I’m sitting - no open space - the lap is a receptical for something, like an empty basket, it needs to be filled. I don’t walk around with blankets wrapped around me - unless I’m cold - but when sitting or laying, somehow it just seems like there ought to be something on top of me. I think somehow pulling the covers up or holding a couch pillow works like a bookend. It makes me feel settled, rather than having that open-ended tipping, on the edge of a cliff feeling. It says, you are here to stay, you are not about to get up, and thus allows me to relax, rather than feeling anticipatory.

Ultimate Dorkdom II

You know you're a dork when it's not toilet paper trailing behind you as you come out of the bathroom, but your friend's bathroom matt!

...But since this little episode took place at a good friend's house and not somewhere public it wasn't embarrasing, it was just really really funny =) You see, I've got these plain ordinary black knitt pants....which seem to be imbued with magnetic powers. I would say it's just loads of static, except that they don't cling to eachother, or my leggs, nor do they crackle. They do atrract constelations of white lint which won't come off, and they still have a few ornery burrs embedded in the hems from some wilderness ramble past, but there was no way that I could have expected to stand up from the pot with the entire -rather heavy rubber bottomed I might add- bathmat firmly affixed to my leggs. It was like velcro or something...only it wasn't velcro. anyway....heh...

too many cooks in the kitchen....or the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing

hooked on phonix, linguistics, creative thinking, spellling bees....there's just way too much in my brain jostling for control when it comes to typing.

I am writing this now because I just witnessed a very singular typo - performed by my very own fingers without the concent of my concious mind.

It wasn't one of those 'oops my fingers are clumsy' typos, no, it wasn't a stab in the dark becauase I have no clue how to spell this thing typo, it wasn't a linguistics gone ballistic typo, it wasn't a jumping ahead to catch up with my thoughts typo.... I think I'd have to call it an 'involuntary creative spelling'. The word in question was very common, and very simple, but something intervened and made it a bit more complicated. I didn't even notice it till I read over my paragraph, and then I had to do a double take. what was that? did I miss a t??

no, uh....I just typed 'my' as 'migh'.

- agh! and just here and now I typed 'as' as 'and'! Several things must be up there playing with the connections in my brain, switching them back and forth and fighting over how they ought to go..'is it red with red, or no, maybe it's blue with red' 'no you've got to connect the white one with the blue one, and the red one goes over here.' 'but then what do I do with the yellow?' 'oh, I don't know, just stick it somwhere'.... something like that, heh =)

Mornings

I lift my hands
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

I'm not a morning person....whenever I can I avoid getting up in the AM hours. But this isn't to say I actually hate morning. I hate having to get up and be sociable and productive and active in the morning yes, but there are something that I really love about the morning that you just don't get any other time of day. I love the quiet peacefullness, that fresh, serene atmosphere the early morning has.

Strangely enough I'm actually kind of glad I have to go to work as early as I do. Although I'd prefer not to get there till 3 pm, if I have to work in the morning I really don't want it to be any later than 8, because after that things start getting busy, and noisy, and hot. But early, when the sun hasn't been out for long the world is still at peace and I don't mind so much being out in it in my groggy state...it's not so overwhelming yet. I actually really enjoy my walks to work, particularly since I go through a couple parks and the main street has lots of nice landscaping along it. When my eyes are actually open (often I walk with them closed - I'm pretty good at that) I find my soul is fed by the beautifull dewy leaves and flowers and grass. I almost always want to stop and take pictures, but usually I don't have time. Earlier this week though I managed it, so here's my favorite one. I put up a few more on the flickr site - so go be refreshed =)

bloodletting II: maybe my subconcious has it in for me

I totally sliced my finger on a knife today while washing dishes. The very same finger, in fact, which I totally sliced a couple months ago on a broken glass - which still hasn't totally healed. It was definatley a gusher....I popped it in my mouth and ran about looking for a bandaid while emitting plaintive noises, but then I couldn't find the bandaids, and once I did I couldn't get one open one-handedly, but by the ammount of blood I was swallowing I didn't dare take it out and try to use it. After a long struggle I proved that it is actually possible to unwrap a bandaid one-left-handedly (I even neosporinized it=), so I stuck it quick under the faucet again and got it all bundled up in bandaids while it screamed at me. AND THEN as I'm sniffing back the tears my nose has the audacity to start bleeding! It's like my body was rebelling and trying to splurt as much blood as it could manage - as if it said "fine, you won't let me get it out that way, I'll find another, and you can't stop me! mwahahaha"

Black Jelly Beans

I am happy to announce a discovery for the few of you out there who, like me, eagerly accept others' cast off black jelly beans at Easter. Today I inadvertantly discovered a black-licorice lover's tea. The brand is "Wissotzky Tea" (found in the kosher section of Ralphs) and the flavor is very misleadingly named "Vanilla." The moment I broke the plastic seal, however, the sweet smell of anis filled my nostrels. Not what I expected, but it was no unpleasant surprise. Although the flavor wasn't strong, I found it rather addicting. In spite of the fact that I was really in the mood for some comforting vanilla and after the first sip to confirm the connection of the scent and the taste I set the cup aside, I kept finding myself thinking, 'well, just one more sip. okay, maybe one more. how about another. well I might as well finish it off.' =)

phantom rye bread

When I yawn I get these random after-tastes (they never have anything to do with recently eaten foods, in fact they're not even always foods at all). pretty wierd. Currently it's rye bread - like the ghosts of rye breads past coming back to haunt my throat, mwahaha! =) Chocolate yawns are pretty good. But sometimes it's stuff like sharpie marker, or clean laundry, or pine. I'd actually have to say the laundry one is my favorite - always makes me feel warm and fuzzy. yeah, I know I'm strange. heh.

do you have flavored yawns???

His voice

This is what He says to me:
Revel My child!
you are My joy
twirl and sing
that they may see
that they may hear
that I might laugh
for I made you to be My joy in the world

may I never let the eyes of men make me ashamed of His joy, for it is a gift beyond the worth of all the world.

sappyness gone sour, or 'Why is a vampire like a butterfly?'

I was looking at pictures of butterflies today. I was thinking awww...how sweet, a butterfly kissing a flower....AND sucking up it's nectar. It doesn't love the flower, it just wants to eat. So it struck me that butterflys are kind of like vampires.

Elfwood

I'm finally on elfwood! I don't have much up there, since most of my 'art' is nature photos which are on deviantart, but I had been meaning to join for several years now, so I'm glad I finally did =) I'm not sure why the thumbnails aren't showing up in my gallery there though - all you get is links with the titles. oh well. if you feel like it you can check it out.

http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/art/a/e/aelthwyn/aelthwyn.html

brownie darts

I got shot by one today in my own kitchen. I don't know where they're lurking around here, but I've suspected their presence for a long time.
I was just making some tea, minding my own business....I switched off the heat, turned around to reach for the tea container and the next thing I know my thumb is stinging for no apparent reason, till I look at it and see this little black sliver-like thing protruding from the center of it. I was not touching anything, let alone any wood so there's no way I could have gotten a splinter. Seriously, where did that come from!
so you have it, the only answer: brownie darts.

broken reccord

I love to sing, and when I'm alone I will often sing on and on without even really thinking about it, so much that I wear myself out and start to find myself annoying. One of the most vexing things is that my brain seems to get stuck on just a few tunes. And it's not like it's one tune for a while and then another one, and so forth...it's the same tunes for years and years. I wouldn't know the statistics but it's a good bet when I open my mouth one of about three tunes will pop out: Think of Me, and Angel of Music from Phantom of the Opera, or Greensleves/What Child is this. Sometimes I think I would punch myself in the mouth if it were possible when one of those insists on blocking all other tunes from my mind. I'll stand there wanting to sing but not being able to make a peep unless it's one of those three, yet again. Or I'll suddenly find myself singing one of them for the 10th time that day and get the urge to just let out a blood curdling scream. I actually really like all those tunes, and I do enjoy singing them, just not over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over......

Life is Good

There are few things that make life beautifull like music.
I wish I could share all the songs I love with you, but of course what is beautifull to one isn’t always to another.
so go listen to your favorite song, and enjoy this glorious moment with me =)

you know you're reading too much manga...

noname-manga
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

"Customer Order: Name, No"
....when that looks like a real name.

....and then you draw a comic about your linguistically rewired brain malfucntions because you're having trouble thinking in prose. - I won't be starting my own web-comic, heh, but I captured the sequence pretty well. You'll have to view the pic in full size to actually read it*

Nah-may sounds like kind of a cute name don't you think?

*for those non-manga readers, if I know any, you have to read right to left, top to bottom - starting on the righthand page.

the grand scheme

"Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"

So we had this mandatory morning meeting from HELL. Some block-head decided the way to boost moral and spread Christmas cheer and enthusiasm was to drag everyone out of their beds before 7AM on a Saterday and make them play dumb games with a very pop-quizzish slant to them. However, God is good, even if it's not always to me. As I left the house I came upon a little worm writhing on the already dry pavement with a few ants crawling on him.
'Never fear! I shall save thee little bug!'
I scooped him up on a leaf and put him down in the midst of nice moist soil he could snuggle down into. Yes, God even cares about little worms...enough to boot me out of bed snarling and hissing. So maybe, when you(or I) need someone, He'll boot somebody else out of bed too. Somehow, as horrible as that morning was, it was all worth it, because one life was saved, even if it was only a worm's. When things aren't going your way, when all your world looks grey, maybe this moment isn't about you, maybe it's about someone else, maybe it's about a little worm frying in the sun. I guess He really was doing something for me though, I don't regret that day afterall. heh.

ok that was really sappy, but...*shrug*

Rachmoninov’s second piano concerto

The more I listen to it the more I like it.
I love the begining of the first movement after the initial piano when the strings join all heavy and dark and thick.
The seccond movement has one of the most tender sadly-sweet melodies I’ve ever heard. It’s so beautifull, during the begining part I have to pause and close my eyes and soak it in like a sponge* that has been in the desert. I can hardly help crying sometimes from the beauty of it.

If you get a chance listen to it and tell me what you think.

*I'm thinking ocean sponge, as in live animal sponge. But not as in Sponge Bob.

like talking with your mouth full at a nice restaraunt

reading certain books in public can be hazardous to your pride and social standing. ...well at least if you read like I do. I get very involved with the characters and react outloud. I make faces, giggle, squeal with delight, talk back, sometimes read aloud, and generaly interact with the book. Say...if one of the characters is being particularly stupid I will often roll my eyes and hit my forhead with the book, if something happens that I predicted I exclaim triumphantly, if something really happy happens I will bounce up and down and grin exstatically, etc. So....when walking or sitting in a public place this can draw some very unwanted attention. heh. like today. I had to put away my book as I walked home because I could tell I was gearing up towards making quite a scene on state street. You ask what book? I'm on the 8th volume of Hana-Kimi, a cute sappy romantic comedy manga.

Ulitmate Dorkdom

...the ongoing saga of the bloody cold.

So this morning I get up and lug myself off to work in the cold morning air and about three blocks from my house my nose starts to bleed, actually gush would be the best word to describe the event. I stop to get some kleenex from my purse and as I look down my dress now has several red stripes, lucky it's sort of a redish purple already. Now, if any of you remember it, I was wearing that purple swirly patterned 'eowyn' style dress I made a while back, but because it was cold I had my sweatshirt on over it - bad fashion choice, but I was sick and cold and tierd, and to top it off I was also wearing a pastel rainbow colored scarf because it happened to be the one that was out, and it's the snuggliest one I have anyway, so yeah, I looked pretty dorky when I left the house, but now I've got blood down the front of me and a couple of dry kleenexes ain't gonna fix it. I've got bigger things to be worried about though, like how not to leave a bloody red trail down the pavement. So there I am walking down the street in the morning sun with a soggy red kleenx pressed to my nose, held high so that instead of running down my hand into my sleve it's running down my throat, and my other hand pinching the bridge of my nose to try and stem the flow....which...isn't....working. I walk all the way to work looking like a complete dork, muttering curses on my nose, and leave a lovely bloodstained fingerprint on the bell by the door. My nose is still bleeding. The manager comes and lets me in. I explain. It's still bleeding. She turns on the faucet so I can wash my hands and get a wet rag without leaving more evidence. ....And it's still bleeding. She takes care of the first delivery guy. And I sit on the stool holding my nose like some kid in the principle's office who got in a fight, only I don't look angry and pouty, I look dull and miserable, and wondering if I can 'call in sick' on account of a bloody nose.

nose...running...red

yup...I've got a cold. I've been calling it 'allergies' for a week now, but my denial tactic doesn't seem to have worked.
I think my subconcious must be trying the old bloodletting treatment because I can't even count how many times I've had a bloody nose today. I'm sick of blowing it, but if I don't my head feels like it's going to explode. I think I've been through two boxes of kleenex today. I think the sinus medicine dries out the nasal pasages a bit too well and that's why it's bleeding all the time, ...or I just blow too hard, heh. Anyway it seems I have two choices it can run clear or it can run red, either way it's still running, ugh. Good thing I like pretty red on white =) If I were my mom I'd be passed out.
It's actually kind of nice though when I'm just laying here feeling all limp and snuggly surrounded by my two fuzzy moss green blankets.
I just thought I'd share the joy with y'all =)

Fuzzy Dreams

I recently had a dream in which I found a little beetle sized bunny with pink irridescent wings scampering about in some clover. It was sooo cute! I took it home with me and fed it veggies and it grew up to be a normal sized bunny, all white and furry and cuddly - with pink shimmery wings.
Then I had another dream in which I was playing with a really fuzzy little animal that looked kind of like a cross between a penguine and a polar bear cub. It didn’t have a beak and it was fluffy but it was colored like a penguin and had flipper like wings. It was so cute how it waddled around on the snow drifts.
I guess I must have been feeling particularly snug and cuddly or something. =)
sigh, I like happy dreams.

Pathetic =)

IMing-cut
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

.....the window rattles, the house creaks, the computer fans whirr, keys go tatta-tap, somebody snickers.....
yes, that's right, we're IM-ing eachother. We were going to watch a movie, but then we ended up sitting there chatting online for about 3 hours I think. heh...geeks! =)

"profound" thought of the day

People often talk of the deceased as 'looking down on them' from heaven.
If that's all the afterlife is, then the closest thing to Heaven on Earth is TV.

neapolitan toes

I went through my closet this weekend and found a bunch of shoes that I never wear, so I decided I ought to try them out and see if I might actually ever want to wear them agian. Unfortunately I chose to try some out this morning and halfway to work I realised that they were a bad choice. When I finally got there and inspected my feet I dsicovered I now had neapolitan ice-feet. Cold, vanilla skin, chocolaty brown mud splotches (thanks to this weekend's rain) and bright strawberry blisters. yum =)

Never ask a Lady that

So I decided to finally go and get a library card, after having moved almost a year ago.
'How old are you?' the library clerk asks me.
The world stops. I stand there like a deer in the headlights. What am I supposed to say? My mind is a complete blank. I have no idea how old I am! I've never been good with math in my head so trying to figure it out from my birthday is going to take me half a century. The clock is ticking. The clerk is staring at me. I have to say something! Then as my mind is still groping around in the amnesiatic dark I hear my mouth spit out "21." Not untill several sentenses later, in the middle of a surprised "you don't look that old" speech does it occur to me 'wait a moment, what did I say? that's not how old I am! umm.... that would be, oh yeah, 24.' But what am I supposed to do? say "wait a minute, actually I'm 24, I don't know why I said 21, but I really do know how old I am, and yeah, that's how old I really am, really." If 21 was pushing it, how on earth could I be convinceing with 24? Feeling too stupid to try to correct myself I just took the card and made a run for it. Oh well.

Bee Season Open

Around our appartment complex there are a number of Trumpet/Lily type bushes (I’m not good with plant names). The bees love them. You walk down the little garden path and it sounds like you’re in a computer lab complete with buzzing florescent lights. The strange thing is, these bees seem to be dropping like flies. It’s quite treacherous for us bare-footers when the sidewalk is peppered with little booby-trapped corpses resting in peace with stinngers pointed up toward that big rose garden in the sky. Going down to check the mail has become reminiscent of Indianna Jones adventures, you have to watch your step and watch for things whizzing past your head at the same time. Is there some kind of Bee Pleague going around? Poisoned flowers? Homicidal stealth wasps protecting their territory from squatters? -Or how about this: the killer poisoned the bees and placed them on the sidewalk path expecting his target to step on them and then appear to have died from a severe allergic reaction to bees!

total randomness

Do you ever get a word or phrase stuck in your mind? well this morning I woke up with one repeating it'self to me over and over: scintillating rubber noodles. Over my chex this morning I thought to myself -yes, I've cracked.

reflection of the day

In general, once people get on a road, no matter how much it sucks, or how far out of the way it’s taking them, they rarely bother to take a different one.

yes I am feeling cynical.

Peachy =)

this is a divine moment. I think ambrosia must taste like bryers peach ice cream. mmmm.... yes this moment is beautifull.

Fads and Obsessions

A psychological observation and inquiry.

I have noticed that there are people who obsess and people who don’t. Another way of saying what I mean when I say obsess here is that some people are prone to fads. A fad being: "A fashion that is taken up with great enthusiasm for a brief period of time; a craze." (from dictionary.com) I’m not sure what all the not-obsessive types would be, though one would be the kind that just doesn’t get excited about anything, in fact doesn’t really do or think about anything they don’t have to, I know some people like this. Anyway, the Obsessors seem to make up a good deal of the population - how else could pop-culture survive? That is not to say that all pop-culture savvy people are obsessors, nor that obsessors don’t obsess over many other things that are not popular - there are thousands of little one-person fads going on out there.

The characteristics of the Obsessor or Fadd-ish person, as I think of that personality type, are these: 1a) they are constantly finding new things they really like, 1b) they do not continue to really like most of these things for more than a few months to a year on average. 2) they will go to great lengths to discover all they can about the topic they are currently obsessed about (this may include anything from reading a number of heafty books, to stalking, to fumbling into highly embarrasing situations in the attempts to gain some connection with their obsession) 3) they are driven to collect as much paraphanalia associated with their obsessed topic as possible, and usually display it all prominently in their room, attempting to cover every inch. 4) it is difficult to talk to them about anything else, in fact it is dificult to talk to them at all because usually they are busy talking to you and anyone else who will listen about whatever it is they are obsessed with - this is because they cannot get it off their mind for a moment -every new topic leads back to this one. 5) they have a tendancy to try to appear to be experts on their topic, even with people who could care less about it -which means they won’t gain any respect from that individual. It doesn’t matter, they want to feel like an expert anyway.

The two main charactersistics are that Obsessors get extreemly interested and excited about things (that’s the obsession part of course), but they do not stick with one thing for very long (that’s the fad part). It seems it is impossible for them to be interested in more than one thing at once, but their interest is very intense.
I think it would be interesting to do a study on how much people actually remember from their previous obsessions. I think they probably do retain much of it, but it ceases to be constantly on their minds. Their paraphanalia is relegated to the back of drawers, boxes on the highest shelf, the far corner under the bed, and their vast stores of trivia filed away under ‘nostalgia’ or ‘I can’t believe I was into that’ categories of the mind.

Now it seems to me that in general people who stay very interested in one thing their whole life do not tend to obsess quite as much - we see charicatures of such people frequently enough; people whose whole life is centered around one thing, who don’t posess anything not related to it, who don’t talk about anything else, but I don’t think I’ve ever met one. Another difference seems to be that obsessors tend to focus on something more specific, while people who keep a deep interest over their lifetime tend to be interested in a broader subject, and will at various times be focused in on certain details of that topic, but without treating each with a greater enthusiasm than they show for the subject as a whole. An example could be perhaps one person who is really ‘into’ golf their whole life, and a person who is really ‘into’ Tiger Woods. The seccond person probably has interest in other golfing things only because of their connection with Tiger Woods, while the first person may be fairly interested in Tiger Woods because of his significance in the broader subject of golf. The first will watch many players, and will probably play golf himself because he enjoys it, while the seccond will only watch Tiger Woods play, and may try to learn how because he wants to be like Tiger Woods. The first might own one poster of Tiger Woods, perhaps, while the seccond will probably own several, and a key chain, and a calendar, and a hat,... and clippings of all the news or magazine articles about him.

I have never quite been able to understand the ‘serial obsessor’ types. For myself, whenever I discover something new I like it doesn’t overthrow my other likes. I also tend to learn and accumulate more slowly. As far as I can tell, the topics I like to talk about are pretty much always the same, and usually if I can’t stop talking about something it’s more likely to be a thought which is either troubling or which has suddenly hit me, rather than a thing or person, and doesn’t last more than a few days. I may often say similar things, or be reminded of the same things often, but they are of a wide variety, that is, unconnected to eachother.

I think part of what causes the fads of these obsessive people is that they are naturally intense and passionate, but are searching for a focus for these atributes, or rather, searching for themselves. Naturally everyone searches for himelf in some capacity, and in doing so will try out different interests, but these trials or phases are just more apparent in obsessive people because of their intense persuit.

The interesting thing to me is that with each new idea or topic they will passionately profess it is ‘SO true’ ‘SO right’ ‘SO wonderfull’ whatever it is, it is the only thing worthwhile. But how can they not notice that whatever is so right keeps changing, and therefore how can they be sure this time it is so right, since, after all, they have proven themselves wrong so often before, sometimes coming to despise their former tastes. Do they live so totally in the moment that they do not remember when they felt the same way about something else? That they cannot foresee this current feeling giving itself up for something different? How can one cope with this? How can one loose or reject or forget ones deepest passions? those things which give one individual identity and define one’s soul and approach to life? I am not meaning to sound criticle here so much as ask an honnest question, for I cannot immagine it myself. If I should ever stop liking fantasy, dragons, fairies, longing for Scottland, loosing myself if Beethoven’s music, wearing long skirts and loving to dress up in renaissance clothes, prefering long hair..... then I should feel as though I had ceased to be myself. These are so much a part of me, these are things which I feel intensely about, which I persue and love and preach, and surround myself with. How could I loose intrest in any of them without loosing part of myself? I am convinced I could not. But perhaps for some people this is not so. Perhaps they do not have a sense of losing themselves, or perhaps in spite of their intensity their obsessions never are as much a part of them as mine are to me? I do not know, though I should like to be able to understand. I may be entirely mis-percieving and mis-judging things in regards to such people. In any case, there are my observations. If you have any differing insights I would love to hear them.

Christmas in July

Well it's not quite July yet, but anyway, a couple days ago I made Gingerbread cookies to satisfy my craving, and today I am sporting a bright shiney rudolf nose, my souvenire from a nice day at the beach. I even got myself a gift: a pretty new bookshelf. yay! my room looks so much nicer. Yes, I am full of happiness and warm fuzzies.

Twister

ThePurpleDress-Katie
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

I have been playing twister with myself on top of a large piece of purpple velvet. It manages to be both slippery and sticky at once - at exactly the opposite moments I wish it to be either. Trying to straighten one end while holding down the other is an interesting yoga-ish feat. But now I have a new dress yay! -that's Katie (a new friend) doesn't she look pretty in it =)

Boo Hoo Hoo!

squirrel jumps suddenly onto limb
startled owl flys off indignantly

Death Wish?

Yesterday at work I was slitting a box and the knife got caught and then suddenly ripped free of the tape and flew at my wrist. For a moment I was waiting for a red waterfall to run forth. . .or at least trickle. . .but only a couple of drops came at which point I reflected that it really might have been more lucky if it had been more than a nick - lying down somewhere and regaining my strength from blood loss sounded like a pretty good alternative to facing the mountain of boxes I was supposed to, unrealistically, be able to finnish. And then I started reflecting on my dissappointment that it didn’t bleed, and realised that I’m always disappointed when things don’t bleed. Not that I actually have a death wish, but blood is so pretty, particularly against my white skin. yeah so, maybe I ought to be disturbed at myself.

They really are trying to kill me at work though. This week is Inventory which means we can't have any books left in boxes when they come to do that - they all have to be out so they can count them, and they all have to be registered in our system so they can get a good comparrison of their count to our reccords. HOWEVER some numbskull higher up in the company decided now would be the perfect week to ship us all the 'summer reading' which means at least twice the normal ammount of boxes coming in each day. Agh! To top this off the trash compactor key is lost so now the back room has also become garbage storage. Egad!

The Best of Fabrics, The Worst of Fabrics

I love sheer flowy fabric, it is so much fun! -to wear that is. Sewing it is another story entirely - then I think it's straight from hell. It stretches in odd directions and will not lay evenly on the floor when cutting it. It slides off your lap or the table when you're trying to sew or pin it. It unravels faster than the road-runner (I was watching Wile E. Coyote cartoons while cutting it out). Individual strings get pulled and gather it all up where you don't want it too, and once that happens there's no smoothing it out again, it will always look puckered there. It pretty much does exactly the opposite of whatever it is you are trying to do to it. It's absolute madness trying to tackle it, but if you perservere you end up with something very lovely....well sometimes. Sometimes you just end up with a ravely snagged mass of mutilated fabric. I am happy to say that this time I did come out triumphant, for the most part anyway.

Remind me to write Shelob a note

Shelob sent us a snack today at work (or it could have been the Wraith*) - how thoughtfull.
Among the boxes there was one, about hobbit-coffin sized, all mummified in a thick case of grungy stringy seran-wrap that looked for all the world like a mass of spiderwebs. Kinda creepy.

* from Stargate Atlantis - the futuristic vampire race evolved from bugs

blogging

I have another blog now at myspace.com (you can search display name: aelthwyn) where I am sort of doing a random question a day thing. So if you feel like reading/answering random questions go check it out.

Hey la, hey la, my Laptop's Back!

Elation! Jubilance! Delight!
It finally arrived! -Of course the first thing I did was hug the box =)
It feels like forever since I have been able to sit with it on my lap. It works! no more psychedelic lines! no more freezing up at the slightest bump!
I'm sooo glad they didn't erase any of my files so I don't have to mess with putting everything back on. It's just as if it was never gone - only better because now it works. They also seem to have replaced the track pad, which I'm glad about because it did sometimes have problems. yay! I am so happy!

contemplations: time & existance

Well I'm not sure how much of this will make sense to someone else - that is I don't have great confidence in my ability to confer these thoughts through words, but I decided I'd just sort of throw them out there anyway.

Can you immagine nothing - really truely nothing? I can immagine empty space, but that is still something, it is space, it is some plain or realm of existance, even if it is not much. But can you immagine no existance? It defys comprehension. The concept of nothing is something. But actually nothing? No light. No dark. No substance of any kind. No thought. No time. How could there ever have been a time of nothingness? A ‘time’ before time began? It cannot even be called a time, if there was truely nothing. The best one can do is refer to a beginning. You can’t say ‘before’ the beginning, if there was no time.
If there was nothing, there must still be nothing. Nothing can never lead to something. It cannot be that there was nothing and then suddenly there was something. Nothing is nothing is nothing. Or else there is Something. We can perhaps immagine nothing in our realm of existance, but for there to be/have been no existance whatsoever not in any realm/plain/dimension/etc. -- impossible. Just try and wrap your mind around it. (at least it doesn't work for me).
If something exists now, there must always have been something. What was it? Is matter eternal? Is spirit? Something must be eternal, you cannot get around it.

You cannot even really say something began without a time when it wasn’t, which means that soemthing else - time- must at least be in existance for something to begin - therefore you cannot have something start out of nothingness. Truely nothingness is completely irrelevant and unconnected with somethingness. If there was something and there was no time before that something, then there could not have been a time when that something was not, and therefore that something must be eternal, it could not have begun.

We are so stuck in time it is very difficult, if not impossible, for us to comprehend anything outside that framework - that state of existance. But if you take away that attribute of progression, or of viewing a thing bit by bit in sequence, you have the whole thing, the real entire thing. You are your past present and future - that is the complete you. But you can only experience yourself bit by bit- moment by moment. You do not know all of yourself yet, because you have not yet seen and expeirenced your future. But if you could immagine taking time out of the equasion you would have just your whole self all at once in every seccond of your life - the full sum of you. Now immagine all of history without time. You have existance, the fullness of existance, with no beginning, with no end; just the whole full thing, complete. Without time something is something, and nothing is nothing. There is no switch between the two, no change from one to another - no beginning or end. Something either is, or isn’t.

living on the edge?

So apparently wearing skirts is dangerous, or so I've been told. It has been firmly suggested to me that my skirts are a 'safety issue' and I ought to wear pants to work. At said job I open and close and lock and unlock the back door, carry boxes across a distance of about 8 feet, unpack boxes, scan books, and sort books onto various carts, and, oh yes, I take out the trash. I would like to take this moment to point out a bit of logic which seems to be frequently overlooked by so-called practically minded people: For thousands of years men and women worked - hunted, built, cooked, farmed, fought, rode, climbed, ran; lived in skirts before the invention of trousers. Therefore it is really quite silly for people to believe that it is so impossible and dangerous (or so very impractical) to perform such tasks in skirts nowadays. Being most adamently myself I have, of course, continued to wear my long skirts to work. Perhaps I am flirting with disaster...but I highly doubt it.

lost & forlorne

My computer currently has two functions: writing surface and place-mat. It went psycho on me a few days ago - lots of random multi-colored psychedelic lines flashing across the screen and then completely non-responsive. Its a very odd sensation. Like having half one's brain gone. I wander aimlessly, unable to think what to do. I sit and stare at it and try to hold back the tears. Somehow, just having it there, even if I'm not doing something with it, makes things feel more complete, more together. I think the thing I miss most though is iTunes. I really don't know how to cope without my music. It is a refuge, a reminder of bright and beautifull things. It helps me relax, or gives me energy. I turn it on in the morning so I don't just fall back to sleep as soon as the alarm goes off. I tend to measure time in song-tracks. Having no sense of time myself, I can remember how long different songs are and thereby measure how much time I've spent, like in the shower; and I know which song on my 'morning music' playlist is the signal that I need to be getting out of here. I don't really have any other thing to play my music on right now, since my speakers are broken so I can't just plug my iPod in (and earphones often bugg me, and aren't practical for doing things like getting dressed with), and I have gotten so addicted to playlists it's hard for me to just listen to one CD all the way through. sigh.... I am also forced now to handwrite my thoughts and ideas and lists etc. but somehow I find it hard to think with a pen in hand anymore. In front of the screen my thoughts just flow right into the keys, but with a pen and my terrible handwriting (and these damned pens that don't work- I seem to have gotten a whole boxfull of duds, they look like they have ink, but it doesn't come out) my thoughs just sort of stop, and feel all choppy.
At least I can use Tracy's old computer, though it makes this annoying buzzing noise when it's on so I can't stand it for very long, and it doesn't have any of my stuff on it. Luckilly though, my computer's problem is supposed to be a defect covered by Apple, so I can send it in for free to have that fixed - that is a definate plus - but in the meantime I hope I can manage to pull myself together enough. Yes I suppose it is pretty pathetic that I feel this pathetic without it. sigh....

run run run, as fast as you can!

I made gingerbread men today, yum =) (well, actually I made circles instead of men) I love gingerbread sooo much! The dough is great too. I think maybe it's the molasses I really like, I don't know, but I find few sweets more satisfying. Aside from chocolate and custard I think gingerbread is the only other sweet I actually crave regularly.
Something I've discovered I like to do is make up dough and then just keep it in the fridge and make a few fresh cookies at a time in the toaster over, which takes less time than the regular one, rather than making them all up at once.
Unfortuneately I discovered that grape juice tastes wierd with molasses, so I can't have my favorite drink with my favorite cookie, but then milk always tastes best with cookies anyway. =)

yes, I am happy =)

absence makes the heart grow fonder

The love theme from the Dark Crystal is playing now and I am stirred with intense longing for space mountain. O Disneyland! will I ever enjoy you again?
the sad tender notes speak of doomed love, sigh...

. . . ?

why is my stove made by 'Fridgidaire'
and my fridge made by 'Hotpoint'?

Valentines

It's stupid. I mean what people make of it, that is. (I'm not one of those bitter valentines haters because I'm jealous of other people's happiness or anything) It just seems to me that people, or at least girls, place too much stock in this one day, this holiday. Girls get all depressed if they don't have a boyfriend for Valentines, and those that have one expect so much on this day and get upset if it's not the great romantic thing they've been immagining. Guys, it seems feel bound to spend money and do things, almost more out of fear of offending than actually wanting to do all that on that particular day. It seems so contrived to me (of course it isn't all like that, lots of people are gennuine, and it's more of a good excuse to do something they would have wanted to anyway). But you certainly shouldn't need to be told by the calendar to give someone you love gifts, and what if you just really don't feel like going out to diner or whatever that day? I mean, honnestly, how can one day be an indication of ones entire love-life? Why should my not giving you a card on this day mean more than all the times I tell you I love you and give you gifts and do little things you like throughout the year? It really seems pretty stupid to me. So it's a day to celebrate love, there's nothing wrong with that, but it's not the day itself which should be significant.
It's strange, even though I really value traditions and like holidays, somehow I also really view them as just another day. What is being celebrated is more important than the day on which you do that, in fact, if it's important enough to have a holiday, it's probably important enough to remember more than once a year. Why shouldn't getting together with family be as special in August as it is at Christmas? Why shouldn't we think about what we're thankfull for every day rather than just at Thanksgiving? Can every day be a holiday?

cullinary arts

I discovered the secret magical power of the toaster-oven. If you give it a piece of bread and then leave it to its own devices, when you come back it will have magically turned the pice of bread into a toast-shaped piece of charcoal with which you can then draw pictures on the kitchen counter =)

The toaster-oven is also very good for creating special effects like dense fog and smoke-veiled pub atmosphere - and its coils glow menacingly red in the dark while it makes a brooding sort of growl.

Pineapple Peach Pommegranit

I finally have Fruits Basket!
I really love this series. It is so cute, and sweet, and in parts sad, but the sadness doesn’t overwhelm the happiness. I think part of why I like it so much is that it says things that I’ve always thought, which are close to my heart. The heroine, Tohru, is always looking for the good things; she simply enjoys life, focusing more on the blessings and beautifull things rather than letting her troubles keep her from enjoying the good there is to be had. She believes that everyone has good qualities, and she cares so genuinely about everyone she meets. What she wants most is to understand others, and help them to see the good things about themselves and the world around them. She’s always encouraging and helping others.
I’m not as selfless as Tohru, but understanding others and accepting them for who they are has always been one of the most important things to me. Like Tohru, I grew up with a mom who loved me so much, and who encouraged me to just be myself. I want to give others that kind of wonderfull freedom she gave me, to be myself without fear of her ever not loving me because of something I did or said. You can’t love a person just because they act nice or they like the same things as you do, real love earnestly wants the best for someone, cares about them even when it doesn’t make sense, when you don’t understand, or even when they hurt you. Ex: when Kyo says things that hurt Tohru, instead of being mad at him she wants to know why he is really angry and wants the things that trouble him to be resolved. Whenever I sense that someone is hurting, or doesn’t like themself I long to comfort and encourage them. Like Tohru I am so honored when people trust me enough to let me get to know who they really are, it always makes me so happy.
I love the themes of hope and enjoying life in this story. I have always been an optimist. I always try to ‘home in’ on what is happy and beautifull. It really makes me mad when people try to say that life is nothing but pain, that ‘reality’ is depressing or boring or hopeless. Happiness and Beauty and Goodness are not merely illusions, they are real, just as real as any pain, and the more you focus on those things rather than on the sad things, the more they will be a real part of your life. Perhaps the thing that irks me, no actually outrages me, most is when people try to kill hope. They are just defeating themselves before they’ve even given themeselves a chance at happiness, and they have no right to try to kill what hope there is in others just because they can’t see it because they’ve closed their eyes.
So anyway... that’s why Fruit’s Basket is dear to me (aside from just loving all the characters). I’m glad to know someone else has the chance to say those things to a lot of other people too.

The year of the Digital Camera

Yes that's right, there is a new member of the chinese zodiac, the digital camera! Can't you just see it now, 'I wish we could get a picture of this.' 'quick give me a hug' Poof! well that would be one way of never having to be in the picture. Although it could be really bad if they got tired and transformed on the street and then got stolen and stuffed in someone's bag, 'cause once they re-transformed.... (this only makes sense if you've seen Fruits Basket)
Anyway, about half the people I know recieved one for Christmas this year - I forsee many more photoshoots and colorfull blog posts this year.

Morning Sickness

I am not what you would call a ‘morning person.’ It’s not so much a matter of getting up on the wrong side of the bed with me, as getting up on the wrong side of the stomache. Whenever I’ve had less than 9-10 hours of sleep (which is hard to come by in this world) I invariably feel as though I am going to puke. This goes on for a good while after I have actually managed to lug myself out of bed and out of the house. Mostly the whole of my thought processes and strength are taken up with ‘I will not puke, I will not puke, I will not fall over, I will not puke...’ On top of this I am also very light sensitive and my eyes have a tendancy to be blurred for about half an hour. Bright lights trigger wincing headaches and the inability to open my eyes whatsoever. All I want to do upon waking up is curl up in a dark hole and die.
Now if you felt like this do you immagine you would be inclined to outbursts of smiling and cheerfull comments? No. I don’t think so.
Now, I wouldn’t necessarily call myself grumpy: I don’t develope that urge to slash things to smitherines unless someone else throws on the lights and acts inhumaely happy. If you walk around with half lidded eyes and comment only in grunts you are perfectly safe. Aside from the physical pangs I can actually be resonably happy - on the inside. Outward expression capabilities do not develope till later in the day, and social inteaction is prettymuch null. It seems that something got wired wrong in may brain - generally the longer I’ve been awake the more awake I become, and the longer I’ve been asleep the tired-er I become. So just before getting up I’m practially dead. Now that is quite a shock, being flung suddenly from the depths of subconciousdom into the bright aliveness of ‘reality’. I’m never ready for it, no matter how many mornings I’ve braved in the past. It usually takes a good 2-3 hours to get over it and actually get past the ever sluggish ‘start up’ mode. (The unhappy mac icon usually threatens to appear several times before the processing wheel finally disappears and the desktop picture comes up). During the first half of the day thinking is very limited. Life is pretty much just going through the motions with a glazed look. Full functionality is reached sometime after diner when my internal motivator finally begins to kick in.

a revelation of logic

The other day as I stood over my teapot watching it start to boil it suddenly hit me: the reason why things boil - as in bubbles come up from inside the liquid - is that the molecules, not just on the top, but also those down underneath the surface, are turning to gas. I think the revelation began actually with the question of 'where do the bubbles come from? how does the air get down underneath? That's impossible.' (puzzled look) And then I realized, that of course the 'air' had to be the gaseous form of the water, in which case it makes sense that the bubbls would form inside because it's not just the top of the water that's getting hot enough to evaporate - duh! I'm not sure why I never connected this before, it seems quite obvious now, but somwhow I guess I just took it for granted- thought of it from a child's perspecive which is simply that 'when things get hot they bubble, and we call that boilding.' Normally I really like to know how and why things work the way the do, but I never stoped to think about this one before.

One chocolate, very rare

So far there has been no evidence of vampire shelves at Barnes & Noble - where I am now working. However I did have a run in with a vampire chocolate the other day. I don't mean chocolates that bite you before you bite them, but, well...here's what happened:
I love dark chocolate. It can make almost any moment divine. So of course I could stand only so much of staring at the bars of godiva dark chocolate piled on a little rack in front of the register I have to stand at for 8 hours a day before it became necessary to eat one. At break I picked out a raspberry truffle dark chocolate bar and bit into it while staring up at the menue of cofees and teas served at the cafe trying to decide what would go best with my chocolate. Then I glanced down. Blood! Dark, red, and oozing out of the center of my chocolate bar! I gaped at it while the 'barista' waited for me to order something.
I'm not really sure what I had expected of a raspberry chocolate bar, perhaps something more pink and creamy.
After a moment of cross checking sight with taste and realising my taste-buds were not in fact experiencing the somehwat metalic taste of blood, I smirked to myself, and stood there musing on all the morbid ideas the bleeding chocolate conjured in my mind. It wasn't exactly the 'divine' moment I had been looking forward to; 'bloody hell' was the first thing that popped into my head.

=)

N 1b sunflower-13sm
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

This picture makes me happy. Normally I don't care for yellow much, but this is an exception.

too much stargate?

So today I am putting away fabric (I am writing this in the future, it wasn't actually today) when behind me I hear a soft, rasping, high pitched squeaking. I stop dead, the bolt of fabric forgotten in my hand. Slowly I stand up. I can't have just heard that. But I know it too well, I know exaclty what that sound is.
Should I turn around and face my doom? I know what I will see, the ugly prong-like head of a goa'ould streatching out from a Jaffa's slit stomach. Slowly, stiffly, I look behind me.....

and it's a lady with a squeaky shopping cart.

Blue Sun?!?

I like airports. I’m not sure why, but something about being in them makes me feel happy. Perhpas part of it is a sort of brooding excitement or expectancy. I love to fly as well, so perhpas it is also due to assaociation with the enjoyment of flying, and traveling in general.
I recently flew to minnesota, and was enjoying myself standing in the long line lugging my suitcase and overstuffed cary-on. People were hurrying past, while others stood about leaning boardly on their luggage. Traffic directors waved people this way and that, and large carts of baggage rolled by. The line slowly slithered forward. The baggage check crept into view. Then my heart stopped.
....’two by two, hands of blue’...
The haunting lines echoed through my head as I stared at at least five pairs of decidedly blue hands. All the security officers checking the bags were wearing blue gloves, of exactly the same hue as the agents searching for River. It was really very unnerving. Of course my bag passed just fine since I wasn’t hauling any cryostacised fugatives or contraband supplies, though the unlabled bag of sinus headache pills and the knitting needles made me a little nervous. They really couldn’t have chosen more unfortunate timing to issue blue gloves to their workers.....unless of course there’s a lot more truth in sci-fi than we realize =)

autumn light

N sunlight-fallleaves#E2DD6
Originally uploaded by aelthwyn.

Autumn has a mysterious feel to it. A musty sort of feeling, like it’s filled with old dusty memories. It feels like somehow the past is closer this time of year. When I smell the cool crisp autumn air I am always reminded of ancient ruins, and grey castles rising out of the mist. Iget the sort of feeling of one sitting in a wizard’s study, surrounded by piles of crinkly old parchments and huge tomes containing legends and secrets from time out of mind, and the expectancy of finding some new secret, or some new mystery to solve, some new quest connected with all those adventures of long ago.
I used to hink spring was my favorite season, but although I love the bright glowing blade sof new grass, and the flowers, and the fresh feeling of sunbeams shining down after the rain, and the idea of the renewal of life and all that, it just doesn’t strike a chord deep within me as atumn does. I was rather surprised to discover that my favorite season is fall, but perhaps it is an ‘aquired taste’ as they say. It seems to me that I discovered that about the same time I found myself humming things in minor keys which I had never really liked before. I have not yet found myself enjoying green beans, however, as they all predicted I would ‘grow into’.
This year I was able to enjoy a more authentic autumn because we went to Minnesota where the trees actually all lose their leaves etc. I enjoyed it, and only wished I’d had more time to take pictures - it was a rather short trip. Here is a picture from Thanksgiving this year -can't you tell? =) naturally there are no people eating turkey in it - which captures fall rather well I think. The sunlight glowing through the veined leaves reminded me just a bit of stained glass windows.

'Egad!'

that's all I have to say

Jurassic Store

My hands currently look as though some small rodent has been gnawing on them in the night while my conciousness wanders other worlds. I counted fifteen small gashes on my right forefinger and thumb today at diner. The culprit, however, is in fact the biting shelves at work. Not only did the batting mutate into a giant amoeba, but the fixtures have grown fangs and developed some kind of primitive conciousness evidenced by their agressive behaviour toward those who invade their personal space as well as a rapidly growing appitite for meat - or maybe it’s just the blood they like.
Perhaps this is part of why they want to move the store. If we stayed much longer we might find ourselves featured in some made-for-TV horror flim in which customers start disappearing while bloodcurdling screams echo down the isles, and employees fall victim to the vampire shelves.

Attack of the Giant Mutant Batting

There is a huge roll of batting in the back corner of Jo-Annes. Over the past few weeks it has developed into a gigantic amoeba shape and threatens to take over the entire batting corner. Customers have actually requested to take home portions of this strange new entity - a desire I cannot fathom. Do you want a white fluffly amoeba to take over your living room? Luckilly it has not yet been successfull at surrounding and absorbing anyone (that we know of), nor has it been capable of mitosis - heaven help us if it ever should! When attempting to carry it to the cutting table my head usually disappears within it’s folds and I always have to wonder if I will ever emerge again. I fear if some customer does not rid us of it soon it will suceed in absorbing all other batting material, eventually overflowing into the rest of the store.

18 yards of denim

I recently got a job at Jo-Ann's fabric store. Shortly after I began working there I started having nightmares involving large quantities of fabric which I am attempting to fold or cut or measure. In one dream I had measured out 18 yards of denim and cut it and was attempting to fold it all up when the lady decided she didn’t want it afterall. I woke up restlessly trying to fold my blankets. I hope this will pass once I'm more used to working there.

Floating Bloodsucking Jelly-fish!

I am sewing sleves tonight. As I paused to evaluate my handiwork so far I was reminded of the vampire jelly-fish things from Cordelia’s Honor (if Megan Stringfellow hasn’t read that book she should; actually all of you should). How a sleve could remind one of bloodsucking jelly-fish is something you can only understand if you know me. Just immagine...what would Andrea do with striped courderoy? Joi might be able to picture what I’m talking about because she was here for the first part of the sleves - before they developed dangly leggs and an apatite for blood. If you were here now I would be waving them menaceingly at you while grinning and giggling. I expect this would evoke some kind of bizzar retaliation ...but as I am all alone I guess I’ll just sit here and remember favorite scenes from that book while I handstitch the rest of the leggs. I think I will now be reminded of the scene where they blow up the helium filled jelly-fish every time I wear this.

Long Hair

I have what most people would call 'really long' hair. I would consider it medium length - it reaches a little past my hips. People always ask me how long it has taken to grow it - the answer is about 8-9 years. Much to my dismay my hair grows very slowly. It does grow a lot faster than I thought it did as a child, however. Now, in general I would consider myself to have been a pretty bright kid, I usually got straight A's throughout school. But strangely enough I never connected the fact that my hair didn't grow with the fact that my mother was always having it cut. I only realised this in the last year or two. You see, my mother hates hair, says she wishes everyone was bald, and never wanted to mess with taking care of my hair when I was little, so she kept it at a sort of 'page-boy' style. Finally when I was old enough to take care of my hair myself - meaning she didn't have to sit and comb it out while I screamed or fumble with briads that didn't want to stay tight - she let me grow it out. By eighth grade it was about waist length and then tragedy struck. I went to get a trim, you know get rid of some split ends and even it out a bit, and the lady when scissor happy. She chopped it off to shoulder length once again. My mother said she had never witnessed anyone as angry as I was, said she'd never seen what a real rage looked like. For some reason my long hair is a very inegral part of my being, cut it off and you've just amputated half my soul - it seems. I don't feel like myself with short hair! It goes against all my principles! Can you immagine being made to be what you are not. It is utterly contrary to me to have short hair. I was horrified, angry beyond expression, and extreemly depressed. Needless-to-say since that horrible day I have seen to it that my hair has not met with any more voracious scissors. I have hopes that it will someday be past my knees, though it doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get there. I have given up on the rapunzel thing, and perhaps not even on the floor length. If it actually did grow to the floor I might keep it that way, but I don't think I'd really like it to get dirty like that all the time, and I'd really rather not have to pick old gum and bits of lint or trash out of the ends of it at the end of the day. I can't immagine it would stay very healthy.
I am very protective of my hair. You do not even want to joke about cutting it. Holding scissors while standing behind me puts me on edge. I am really a nice person, good, lawabiding and all that, (the only thing I take joy in harming is bugs in my house, outside I protect them) but I really don't know what I'd do if I caught someone cutting off my hair. I might just murder them. I'd probably go mad on any account. I had a nightmare once that someone was cutting my hair while I was asleep and I had violent urges to thrash whoever it was with a knife, I woke up trembling and layed there grasping my hair and feeling up and down it's length to reassure myself that it was still there. I really can't explain why my hair is so important to me, it doesn't make really sense, but it's very true none-the-less. So there you have the warning - don't joke about cutting my hair - Seriously.
I honnestly think that almost everyone should have long hair. I am, however, also a fairly open-minded and reasonable person. I know that a great many people will never agree with me on this account, and there's really nothing to be done about it. Everyone's hair is really their own business, but if you ever ask me if you should get your hair cut you know my answer. I will admit that a few people do in fact look better with short hair, but I think many more would look good with long hair than think they would. It always makes me happy to see people with hair longer than shoulder length - well at least when they keep it nice. When it is all straggly on the ends or when it is so thin it looks like a rat's-tail when braided then I'm not so fond of it. Even people with grey hair, I think, should have long hair. I think long silvery hair is very pretty. It's a shame almost all older women cut their hair short. I do generally like men to have long hair as well, though perhaps not as long as women. -that is rahter an interesting trend, dont' you think, that in generall all over the world men tend to have shorter hair than women.
Many people seem to think than having 'long' hair is 'more work' than short hair. I would definately disagree. I spend much less time on my hair every day than my mother does. I can very easily braid it, or 'throw' it up into a pony tail or bun in less than 2 minutes, whereas she spends considerably more time (I haven't timed it) curling and styling and ratting and spraying it. If she just leaves her short hair how it is when she gets up it looks pretty funny, but just a quick brush over the top to flatten some of the whispys that have gotten out during the night (I sleep with it in a braid to keep it from tangling) and my hair is at least passable. Now some people with short hair can just get up and do nothing with it, but most women with short hair, it seems, do spend a great deal of trouble styling it.

Tea

...is a way of life. To me it symbolises slowing down and enjoying simple pleasures, and the easy-going attitude that allows you to do that. Stopping to have a cup of tea often gives me a new perspective on the day. One of the things I like best about Ireland and Brittain is that they serve good tea and serve it often. Tea is soemthing for hot summer days as much as for rainy evenings. Both old and young people drink it in Brittain; it is not only something for frumpy old ladies. In Ireland usually the first thing a friend is asked as they come in is if they’ed like a ‘cuppa’ and of course they alsways do. Instead of feeling obligated to come up with some kind of entertainment people would just sit and talk over a cup of tea (or several -I was oftered a cup about every half hour in one home) Some of the best conversations happen over a cup of tea. Somehow drinking tea seems to put people more at ease.
Tea makes everything better. When I’m feeling tierd, or stressed, or frustrated, or glum drinking a cup of good tea sooths and relaxes, comforts, gladdens my heart, makes the day beautifull again. Tea is like a hug in a cup. Perfect moments usually involve a cup of tea. In fact, a really good cup of tea can make almost any moment sublime.
Tea in America is in a very sad state. It is possible to get good tea, but quite difficult. When you can find it it is always sold in miniscule quantities at high prices. Sigh. Most of the time when you ask for tea at a restaraunt here you get the kind that tastes like they brewed cardboard. The most popular choice seems to be Lipton, which is not so bad as Nestea and some others; it will do in a pinch but it certainly is not very enjoyable. I have taken to carying my own tea-bags with me and simply requesting hot-water so I don’t have to pay to suffer through/grimace down the liquid cardboard. They also never serve milk or creme with tea here unless you are in an actual tea-house. I am constantly forgetting to tell them to keep their lemon and honey and bring me some little coffee creamers instead if they have any - sometimes they actually bring milk in a little pitcher which is nice. Cofee houses are in abundance here, and they often do serve some tea but the selection is usually very limited, and only occassionally includes a good black tea.
I prefer black tea. Breakfast teas are my favorites. On occasion I will drink herbal teas, but although I like them I like black tea so much better that I will always choose that first. Earl Grey is nice, but a lighter more, I guess I would call it ‘flowery’ flavor than I prefer. I like my tea fairly strong, and used to drink it plain, but since my trip to Ireland and Scottland a couple years ago I have taken to drinking it with milk. They insisted upon it in Ireland and I guess I just got hooked. I still like it without milk, but if I can have it I usually will put a little in. I don’t like a lot of milk in it, just a few drops usually. When it’s brewed just right and has the rigth ammount of milk it always looks the same color of amber-brown with the same ammount of opaque-ness. I particulaqrly like to have it with a piece of cheddar cheese or some chocolate - usually twix or plain dark chocolate. I like the way those flavors mix with the flavor of tea.

Cheese

I really like cheese. There are so many different wonderfull kinds of cheese. Blue cheese drdessing was for a long time the only dressing I liked at all. It is best when it has big chunks of real blue cheese in it - Disneyland has good blue cheese, it makes me not even care if half my salad is composed of that nasty bitter white lettuce - it’s just a bit of crunchiness with my blue cheese. Another one of me favorite cheeses is Irish - at Stater Brother’s they call it Dubliner cheese and soemtimes have it in the special deli cheese section. When I first had it in Ireland they said it was regular cheddar and I was very confused because I always thought cheddar was orange and kind of waxy in texture, yet this was white and somewhat dry and crumbly with little crunchy salt flecks. I think it is actually made from goat’s milk, but I don’t know for sure. I like swiss cheese when it is cold, but not so much when it is melted, I’m not sure why. Provalone is very nice on sandwiches. I also like a lot of the softer cheeses that they will often put on salads at nice restaraunts like Feta or Gorgonzola. Sting cheese tastes best, I think, when eaten in very thin strings. I just don’t understand people who will eat it without peeling it apart, it tastes kind of strange that way for some reason.
I always like LOTS of cheese, except on quesedillas. For some reason I just don’t like thick quesedillas, they seem too rubbery to me, I like them thin and crispy, or the way Del Taco makes them which is thin and stringy. I’m not quite sure what kind of cheese they use, it doesn’t seem like normal cheese you buy from the store and grate up, it has a different consistancy, a bit more oily unfortuneately, but very satisfyingly soft and stringy. Taco Bell, on the other hand, does not make very good quesadillas - well, they do make them crunchy wich is good, however they don’t melt the cheese anymore. I think part of it is because for some unknown reason they switched to wide grated chees rather than thin grated cheese which means it doesn’t melt as easily. It also, unfortuneatley, has a way of reminding me of little white grubs all smashed together - ugh! I am very sore about the change in grating-size because I used to really like Taco Bell tacos, but now that the cheese never melts and has the wrong sort of consistancy they just don’t have the same charm. Hmm.. come to think of it I tend to like thinner grilled cheese sandwiches too for the same reasons, it should be crunchy not rubbery. On spaghetti, however, I like to have at least equal parts cheese to pasta. Since I don’t like tamato sauce I usually just put butter and a mountain of parmasagn cheese, though sometimes I get alfredo. My very favorite way to have it is the Mizithra cheese and browned butter at the Spaghetti factory. Pizza should always have much more cheese than it has sauce. It’s just nasty when it looks like it’s bleeding because the sauce is all squeezing out from between the sparce cheese -eeew! I remember long ago what was possibly the best pizza I ever had. It had soo much cheese, and the cheese was so thick and stringy that I had taken my piece and pulled it away but the cheese stayed attached and just kept stretching and stretching, but it never looked as though there was any less on the rest of the pizza. I tried to brreak it, but it wouldnt’ break, so I thought I’d bite it - I stuck part of the long string in my mouth and chewed, it didn’t completely separate, so I kept eating it, and it kept stretching and soon I and a very long string from the pizza to my peice taking a detour down my throught - yes it does sound kind of gross when you think about it, but I just remember it being really amazingly cheesy pizza - the best one I ever had. One of my favorite ways to eat cheese is with Tea. I found that I really like the flavor of eating cheddar with breakfast tea, I’m not sure why they taste so good together, I wouldn’t have expected it, but they really do. I also like to just fry up grated cheddar all by itself. At one point I had it perfected, but then I didnt’ do ti for a while and now I usually can’t get it to work right. I remember that I would put the grated cheese in the frying pan making sure it was allin one clump with no straggling peices because those woudl burn, and then I’d stick a cover over it and let it sizzle for a while, then when I felt the time was right I’d flip it and in the end it would make a lovely semi crispy semi chewy wafer of cheese - almost like cheese-it crackers only much better. Usually I would have to pat it between paper towels first to get rid of all the extra greese but recently I haven’t been able to get it crispy enough to not stick to the paper when I tried to absorb the greese, I’m not really sure why.

Pic 'n' Save

or did they actually include a ‘k’?
(here follows a little rant. I must make appologies in advance for my own poor spelling and grammar abilities, not wishing to appear too much a hypocrite)
...It seems to me I remember it not being spelled with a k, but then, I didn’t shop there very often. Whether or not the orriginal name had a spelling error, the new name is gramatically far worse. Personally, I find the new name for Pic ‘n’ Save absolutely appalling. I refuse to use the name unless I must because I feel so stupid saying it. Big!Lots -!!! What’s with that? I ask you! What precicely is that supposed to mean? It makes no gramatical sense whateoever. First off, there is the blaring exclamaition mark right in the middle. ‘Big Lots’ is not a even sentence, and even if it were the exclaimation mark would appear at the end. Obviously this out of place punctuation mark has been included because the sign maker wishes to inspire excitement in the reader, and it has no doubt been inserted in the middle on account of someone’s idea of ‘aesthetic’ ballance. Why not insert a large smiley face symbol? Or how about a gigantic capital Z? Either of those would have just as much business being there as that exclaimation mark. This prominantly ill-placed symbol of excitement puts me in mind of those excutiatingly cheesy Barbie commercials in which several little girls squeal obnoxiously and exhibit far more enthusiasm than normal hyperactive children over the dolls in question. Is that really the impression intended by the use of the exclaimation mark here?
Even ignoring this case of abused punctuation, the words themselves do not make sense together. Has the company chosen at random two words which mean roughly ‘a large ammount’? Why? It does me no good for you to tell me you have large ammounts.... without telling me of what. For all I know you could be talking about mounds of manure; in which case I certainly don’t wish to enter your shop. ‘Big’ what? ‘Lots’ of what?
'Big' and 'Lots' are not adjectives generally seen together. Even with a noun they would sound odd. Big lots of stuff. Big lots of savings. Part of the problem, I think, is that ‘lots’ requires ‘of’ between it and a noun, and 'big' does not. You would never say ‘big of dogs’ any more than you would say ‘lots dogs’. The other problem is that these ‘modifyers’ appear in the wrong order. You can say ‘lots of big dogs’ without sounding awkward at all. I am not, however, saying that ‘Lots!Big’ would be any better for a shop sign, nor even ‘Lots of Big!’ - to that one must ask 'What is Big? Can I buy some big?' as ‘Lots of Big’ makes it sound as though Big is a ‘mass noun’ (like water).
I would like to diverge a moment here to ask a nagging question: when did the form ‘lots’, with an S, come to be used as anything but a plural of the singular noun ‘lot’ meaning a plot of land? I can say either ‘I have a lot of cats,’ or ‘I have lots of cats’ and be understood to mean exactly the same thing.
‘Big’ and ‘Lots’ are both words which refer to the ammount or size of some noun, however no noun is apparant in the sign for them to be refering to. I suppose, as it is a shop, we may assume that they are refering to large and/or numerous items for sale - lots of merchandice perhaps? Big merchandice? or perhaps they mean big ammounts (still a bit awkward) of merchandice. ‘Large ammounts’ would probably be the preferable word choice (whether or not it particularly makes more sense), but somehow ‘Large!Lots’, though equally bad grammatically in and of itself, is less appealing to the advertising specialist -maybe because it doesn’t roll off the tongue as quickly. Or perhaps ‘large’ does not appear in the infantile vocabuilary list he has to choose from. Can you not hear a toddler’s high-pitched voice squaking out excitedly ‘Big!’ ‘Lots!’ while straining its short pudgy arms out of the stroller toward rows of large teddy bears or candy bars.
When I first saw this sign I was utterly confused. I kept trying to work it out in my mind and kept feeling as though I was being spun like a top upside down. It just didn't make any sense. It was like naming a store ‘Tall High’, or ‘Soft Squishy’ - which sounds like complete nonsense that is begging to be given meaning in the form of a noun. Then in desperation I seized upon the meaning for ‘Lot’ mentioned above. Perhaps the sign meant ‘large pieces of land’. Still this doesn’t make a great deal of sense as a name for a store. Were they selling large plots of land? Were they boasting that their stores were always built on lage plots of land thereby indicating that they were big buildings holding large quantities of merchandice?
Or perhaps the meaning intended for ‘lot’ here is: ‘an object used in deciding something by chance’. -? So...perhaps it means there are big opportunites? Lots of long straws - so to speak- rather than short straws or ‘lemons’?
I am sure that in re-naming the store they hoped to sort of give it a step up in the world; banish the mental images of huge piles of random cheap objects through which one must sort (pick) like some sort of nightmare which were, perhaps, conjured up by the title ‘Pic ‘n’ Save’. However, resorting to a kind of jarring, confusing baby talk is not my idea of taking a step upwards on the social latter.

As I was thinking about this my random adjective generator started spewing out more pairings - how would you like to visit any of these stores? What would they be selling? ...Tall Hairy, Yellow Raunchy, Quiet Nosy, Rugged Tawney, Fast Rapid, Glistening Shimmering, Cool Hot, Clicking Tapping, Cute Cuddly, Short Small, Grim Gory, Fat Pudgy, Leaky Sloshy, Funny Sunny, Far Close, Peckish Persnickety.....

Scarborogh Faire

I went through the spice rack today and reorganised that cupboard. Naturally I was distracted by smelling all the spices I had taken out. Some of my favorites were Marjoram, Anise, Nutmeg, Basil, Rosemary, and Cloves. I really liked one that was an Italien blend, which contained several of the ones I’ve mentioned already along with Thyme, which I discovered we did not have so I didn’t get to smell it by itself, but I guess that I would like it. That got me thinking about other smells that I really like. Star Jasmine has got to be one of my very favorites. I also like leather, Pine (Christmas Tree), Vanilla, and many others that don’t really have names. I reallly like the clean smell of plain soap - forget all those scented ones! And the warm clean smell of laundry is so nice and fuzzy, almost like smelling a hug instead of feeling one.

Fighting Dragons

A thought has long troubled me concerning all the pictures of knights fighting dragons all clad in shining armour. It seems to me that really it would be like bringing the enemy’s weapons with you to battle. Of course their inconveinience vs. usefullness would depend on the actual nature of dragons: the size, strength, claws, and fire capabilities - heat, distance, bredth, frequency of use, and all that sort of thing. But given the average picture of dragons -being much larger than humans, making great use of the ability to breath formidable streams of fire, their large claws, and great strength, all aside from nearly impenitrable skin, it really seems that armour would not be of any use agianst them, and in fact, a hindrance. First of all it must be remembered that metal gets very hot quite easily -giving one no real protection from a dragon’s flames. For though the flames themselves might not touch the man, his armour certainly would get hot, and that heat would linger, keeping him inclosed in a kind of oven. The hot metal would burn the man even if the flames did not. Another concern, assuming he was quick enough to evade the dragon’s fires, is the dragon’s superior strength. A whak from tail or claw could likely dent plate armour, and certainly being squished up against a wall or floor of rock by a dragon would result in the crushing of the metal plates into a much more compressed shape, which if the man were able to escape from such a plight he would, nevertheless, be unable to get it back into normal shape and would be little better off breathing-wise at the least, not to mention the difficulty stiff armour would lend to worming oneself out of such tight places. Chain mail at least would not be prone to fatal dents. However, it is quite conceivable that a dragon would be able to tear chain mail almost as easily as cloth. Therefore mail would provide no better protection. For even though it would have superior ventilation for cooling down after a firey blast, it would still remain uncomfortably hot, and serve little purpose. And if a dragon’s claw should not actually tear the mail, if it were to catch it, or if it should catch on something else it would be impossible for the man to free himself quickly by ripping out of it, as one may do with cloth. Assuming one was also agile enough to evade the dragon’s claws and tail as well as it’s fire there would really be no purpose for armour at all. One would surely be even more swift and nimble without it. All in all, it seems a very foolish thing to go into battle with a dragon in any kind of ordinary armour. Perhaps a flame retardant jumpsuit, though certianly less fashionable, would be a more sensible choice of attire. One option which does come to mind, is that of dragonskin. It seems that dragon’s scales would probably be resistant to fire, if they were to live with eachother at all, and must certainly be flexible, as reptiles are generally quite flexible. Therefore armour of dragonskin might be the best option, if it were possible to cut and sew it.