But would Paris like me?

You Belong in Paris

Stylish and a little sassy, you were meant for Paris. The art, the fashion, the wine, the men! Whether you're enjoying the cafe life or a beautiful park... You'll love living in the most chic place on earth.

What City Do You Belong In?

Library Trip...

They say in my classes that browsing is an inefficient way to find information. Perhaps. But I find it a remarkably efficient way to find interesting reading material.

My finds:

David Marc. Bonfire of the Humanities. (This is the only one I've started. Seems to be a rampage in favor of humanities in the television age. Marc throws witty and scathing darts in many directions).

Mark A. Noll. The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind.

D.H. Lawrence. Women in Love.

Deitrich Bonhoeffer. Act and Being.

Timothy Ware. The Orthodox Church.

Marian Keyes. Sushi for Beginners. (note: Keyes is a funny and insightful, but not morally or intellectually uplifting. I am aware her books are not more edifying than prime time television, though they are more entertaining. My excuse is a 14 hour car ride on Saturday).

I also got a movie called "Free Radicals." I think it's in German.

Quote of the Day

"By 'freeing the text from history' the decons did a good job during the 1980s of turning the study of culture into a kind of mental aerobics session, where the furiousness of running in place is valued over getting anywhere."

(Marc, Bonfire of the Humanities, p. 5)

Therefore I will not restrain my mouth;

I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Am I the sea, or the sea monster, that you set a guard over me?
When I say, 'My bed will comfort me,
my couch will ease my complaint,'
then you scare me with dreams
and terrify me with visions,
so that I would choose strangling
and death rather than my bones.
I loathe my life; I would not live forever.
Leave me alone, for my days are a breath.
What is man, that you make so much of him,
and that you set your heart on him,
visit him every morning
and test him every moment?
How long will you not look away from me,
nor leave me alone till I swallow my spit?
If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of mankind?
Why have you made me your mark?
Why have I become a burden to you?
Why do you not pardon my trangression
and take away my iniquity?
For now I shall lie in the earth;
you will seek me, but I shall not be.

Job 7:11 - 21

Disclaimer: I'm not depressed or anything. I just like Job, OK?

More word nuances for your edification:

One of my mother's friends insists that there is a fine distinction between done and finished. It seems, however, that this distinction was merely part of an unsuccessful coup to make English more "genteel." Really, few enough people speak proper English as it is. Let's not be ultra-classist.

On my To-Do List:

• Read From Dawn to Decadence all the way through. I had read bits of it last summer, but it deserves to be read in its entirety, and there are so many good reading suggestions. I recommend the chapter on WWI, "The Great Illusion," pp. 683 - 712.
• Keep up with Emily's Blog, now that she back online.
• Use my Amazon points to buy Matthew brandy snifters for Christmas. 'Tis frivolous, I know, but 'tis what he wants. Next year we are donating our Christmas money to charity. Giving purchased gifts when everyone can buy what they want any time is, we have decided, silly.
• Hook an internship at a reference desk. Probably in Ann Arbor. Most are unpaid. I don't really like working for free.
• Study languages. Latin, probably. I feel undereducated because I am not fluent in a second language. Someday I should get a job in a Spanish country and re-learn the language.

A Quote:

"What women need is the right to military service. Give me a well-mounted regiment of women with sabres, opposed to a regiment of men with votes. We shall see who goes down before the other. This question must be solved by blood and iron, as was well said by Bismarck, whom I have reason to believe was a woman in disguise." ~ George Bernard Shaw

Invierno

I made Mom and Matthew come outside and build snowmen with me when I got home. Matthew had to make one so large it took a plank to roll his midsection on.



We had about six inches of snow yesterday on top of several old layers.
They were big, fluffy flakes--half an inch in diameter. Unlike Virginia, things just keep going despite the snow here. So I went to work, made my final poster presentation at school, and drove back to Toledo. That was a little nerve-wracking, I'll admit. I wanted to get home before it froze, and the temperature was hovering at 33 degrees.



As I speak, it's starting to snow again...

Eulogy

We got an email from my piano teacher in Puerto Rico that her Great Dane, Tux, died this week.

We used to babysit Tux when Betsy went to the States. We had to remove all knick knacks at least four feet off the ground to avoid his tail. He was large, timid, and docile. I always suspected he had a dry sense of humor. If we took him on a long walk and he got tired, he would just sit down and not move until we got the car. He liked going to the beach but he was afraid of the water. We once timed him pee for three minutes.

Last final turned in...

Finished!

One semester down, three to go.

The child has strep throat

...But I can get it now because I don't absolutely have to think for three weeks...

and then I might not get to go to Wisconsin

(which would be devastating, of course).

Blasphemy?

I went and saw the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe last night. That is not the subject of this post.

The subject of this post is one of those advertisements they flash up on the screen before the previews start. This one was for the local baptismatic megachurch. Its motto was:

Come Grow with God.

My uncharitable interpretation is that the baptismatics are denying the immutability of God. My charitable interpretation is that they do not understand English or Greek (Growing in the Lord/God/Christ is the apporpriate idiom). The fact that they did not use grow in its new and atrocious manifestation as a transitive verb does not redeem them from their doctrinal/grammatical unorthodoxy.

Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. But must we make them about the character of God? And put them on a cinema screen? Really.

Hace Frio

It was 5 degrees on my way to class this morning. I put on tights (which I do NOT like to wear because I can't find ones long enough for me) and jeans. The bus drivers were nice today and opened the doors for us. Sometimes the selfish blighters make us stand out in the cold until right before they are ready to leave. The earbud cord for my IPod seems to get stiff when it's cold outside. My imagination? Will the cold hurt the IPod? I am getting a down coat for Christmas because mother is convinced that I will freeze to death. I think I'm already well-insulated, but oh well. Today I was helping A. get out of the bath and I told him his skin was kind of dry. "How can my skin be dry if I just got out of the bath?" he asked, looking at me like I was a wack-job.

I was going to post a picture of long underwear, but it's all so lewd-looking...

Symptoms

One of the advantages of growing older is early detection of illness. When I come down with the flu, my symptoms are unmistakeable:

1) The proclivity and (even more strange) ability to take naps in the middle of the day.
2) An inability to consume anything besides toast.
3) The sudden intrusion of a fur lining in my mouth.
4) The sensation that steel rods have been forced up the back of my neck and into my head.
5) A burning desire to watch vapid movies, and Sound of Music in particular.

More Amadeus...

I know Dr. Kavanaugh would have issues with the accuracy of the lyrics....but the song's so much FUN! I wish I could find a link to the music video.

http://www.amadeusimmortal.com/fun/falco.php

Art

"...suggested the major contribution of American art was the design of the American bathroom."

Paul J. Dimaggio, Constructing an Organizational Field as a Professional Project: US Art Museums, 1920--1940.

Do you believe in art-as-such, or broader, more changeable understanding of art? Can a well-constructed chair be art? Can Dutch art be meaningless in non-Western cultures?

Frozen Waterfalls

I got to go to Toledo for almost a week. We had three inches of snow on Thanksgiving Day. That still seems so strange to me. Friday, Saturday and Sunday we went with my grandparents and the Eckles (aunt, uncle, cousins) to Mohican Lodge, in the middle of Ohio. After a bit of wrangling (my mother still thinks, after nearly a decade, that I am an incompetent driver), I was allowed to drive my uncle's van with my brother and my cousins. Matthew tried very hard to convince us that we were staying in a hostel. My poor little cousin has a phobia of hostels because the last time she stayed in one, my aunt rammed beds against the doors so she wouldn't be kidnapped. Thankfully, we had private rooms. I tolerate hostel conditions in Switzerland. I demand comfort if I am to be relegated to central Ohio. The Lodge was thankfully spacious, attractive and comfortable. The landscape was, surprisingly, varied, with lots of wildlife.

We all fought over who got to hook their IPOD to the radio. Matthew, the Classic Rock supremacist, won out, since he was in the passenger seat. I must admit, I quite liked "Rock me, Amadeus" by Falco. Austrians are cool. So are Germans. I've been listening to a lot of Bach cantatas I picked up at the central Toledo library. I took my grandma there during the snow storm. A group of low-lives actually CAT-CALLED at me in the LIBRARY. I was too surprised to do anything un-Christian. That happens a lot. My slow reactions have kept me from many sins.

Saturday, while my grandparents went to see the local "Bible Walk" attraction (the iconoclast in me simply shivers) we went hiking down the river (past the "danger: treacherous trails" signs).

That night we got to see a "birds of prey" exhibit by the local bird sanctuary. Owls are neat looking. They're not actually smart, though. Their heads are about one inch in diameter and their eyes are the size of shooter marbles....not much left there for anything else.

Google. Very funny.

http://gvod.blogspot.com/

http://video.google.com/


Type in "baby fart" (the clip with the actual baby). Check out the "ping pong matrix" and "darth vader crying".

German Humor about New Chancellor

Conservative daily Die Welt wonders what Merkel's style will be like. Will she pat foreign leaders on the back like predecessor Helmut Kohl did with Russia's Boris Yeltsin, or Schröder with Vladimir Putin? One thing is certain -- joint sauna visits can be ruled out, writes Die Welt: "It's harder for women politicians to make comradely gestures." Former US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright was an exception because she had a grandmotherly way about her, but Merkel, 51, is too young for that. Schröder's meetings with French President Jacques Chirac, with their hugging and kissing and snorting, resembled encounters between two whales, writes Die Welt. If Merkel smiled at Chirac the way Schröder did, theirs would be mistaken for a different type of relationship. "As a woman Angela Merkel will bring sobriety to foreign policy. That need not be a bad thing," opines Die Welt.

http://service.spiegel.de/cache/international/0,1518,386070,00.html

Stupid things in the draft of my paper....

"Kuhlthau describes stages through which the study participants went through."

"They must select material for the different age groups and interest groups: . . . audiobooks for the deaf . . . ."

"Our physical environment has some effect on how we absorb information and turn it into knowledge. Is a fast-food restaurant, the bathroom, or the car, really the best place to absorb knowledge? Clark has written an entire book on the premise that we have forgotten that the mind is connected to the body, that 'the biological mind is, first and foremost, an organ for controlling the biological body.'"

Sledgehammer Willi...

I'm mad at APA again.

The APA cribsheet (http://www.docstyles.com/apacrib.htm) starts out with a section on Avoiding Biased and Pejorative Language. I mean, you all know that I'm totally against being pejorative. Pejorative language never escapes my pure and untainted mouth. But, as tolerant as I am, I don't like wasting nine words(count 'em: gay men, lesbians, transgender and bisexual men and women) to say "homosexuals." I also dislike the ban on the word "mankind" or "man" as a general term for humanity. I always assumed I was included in mankind by Shakespeare and the translators of the KJV (in fact, even the Greek anthropos means "mankind"). Not, so, it appears. Women weren't included in humanity until the 1970s, or whenever they developed gender neutral language. I'm glad to know that Aristotle, Shakespeare, and God were such misogynist pigs.

See guys, I'm still kinda a Republican ;-)

Another thing that's bothering me. Dove Promises. I like the chocolate. But the worse-than-fortune-cookie truisms on the wrappers bug me. If the chocolate doesn't make me feel sick, the wrappers ensure that I do. I could write a ballad with all the ones I've unwrapped today:

Love is always the perfect gift.
Joy is contagious.
Warmth on the inside can melt cold on the outside.
Holiday magic starts from within.
Miracles aren't limited to the holidays.
Togetherness is in itself a holiday treat.
A helping hand is sometimes the best present of all.

Help!

What's the plural of "faux pas"?

My procrastination skills are continuing to improve

Remember when I used to write all my papers at the beginning of the semester freshman year? Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore. I have a 6 page, single-spaced reading synthesis due Monday. I've been doing the research (i.e. actually reading the required reading) for it in short spurts. That's the only way I can stand it. I've now locked myself in the basement with chocolate, apples, and cappucino. The window in my room was giving me SAD, with the leafless trees and ploughed-over communal gardens. Brianna taught me the virtue of constantly shifting locations.

The best distraction from work, however, is the Internet. To a will-less person like me, it is practically irresistable (witness this blog post). Yesterday evening, I decided to look up "unusual psychological disorders." I came across a discussion board of a bunch of people claiming to be vampires who were offended by the confusion of vampirism with Renfield syndrome: http://house-eclipse.org/forum/viewtopic.php?p=5675&sid=4657374e9f8dff04d603e3402754d8e6

My brother and I have always been fascinated by abnormal psychology. We spend hours reading the DMS-IV. Matthew wants to publish a pocket version. We've diagnosed all of you. It probably stems from our childhood. Mother ran a lot of errands dealing Tupperware and being vice-president of the Navy League. She would leave us sitting for extended lengths of time in the car. If we complained, her response was "Well, I tried to park you in the shade, what are you whining about?" We spent this time very constructively: when we were not pulling each other's hair, we decided what animals the people walking by were. I think our most popular observations were walruses, pigs, and various birds.

So....um...as you can see I've gotten a lot done on my paper in the last ten minutes....Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus and people in graduate school are very diligent.

AHHH!!! Christmas is here already!

Windows Media Player Radio currently features no less than nine Christmas stations. That's nine different continuous-play stations dedicated to nothing but the same couple dozen Christmas songs over, and over, and over again. I mean, I'm not against an occasional Andrews Sisters and Bing diddy, but can you imagine listening to the "kids" or "wacky" Christmas station for the next eight weeks? "I want a hippopotamus" for the sixtieth time? Talk about Chinese water torture! Is the stretching of Christmas back to mid-November, particularly the recycling of mediocre old songs every year, a sign of our culture's decline? Well...back to my "vocal Christmas" station...maybe it's time to move up to "motown Chirstmas".

In keeping with my trend towards irrational means of personality analysis...

I was born in the year of the DOG (and I don't even like them *sniff*, except big, shaggy ones).

Chinese Zodiac - Year of the Dog

People born in the Year of the Dog possess the best traits of human nature. They have a deep sense of loyalty, are honest, and inspire other people's confidence because they know how to keep secrets. But Dog People are somewhat selfish, terribly stubborn, and eccentric. They care little for wealth; yet somehow always seem to have money. They can be cold emotionally and sometimes distant at parties. They can find fault with many things and are noted for their sharp tongues. Dog people make good leaders. They are compatible with those born in the Years of the Horse, Tiger, and Rabbit. You are honest and faithful. You can worry too much. You will make an excellent business person, teacher or secret agent.

Coronation of Poppea

Mom and I went to see Monteverdi's 1643 opera "The Coronation of Poppea" last night. It was about, of course, Nero, Poppea, Seneca, Octavia, and Otho (Nero was, fittingly, a male soprano, while Seneca had a deep, resonating bass). The setting, however, was Mussolini's Italy. I thought the two eras blended well together, especially when Seneca and Nero were arguing about whether unbridled force puts the prince above reason (echoes of Machiavelli?) The music was uplifting and cerebral Baroque, performed on replicas of period instrument. My housemate was the goddess Virtue and, when she heard we were going, gave us her tickets. It was at one of the many performing arts centers here. Emily, you should have gone to a big public university; you would never have had to fight for a stage.

Does anyone know...

How to host a picture for my profile without making a posting about it? Hello is confusing. I don't see why we can't just upload one. That is why that picture is there below.

peace disco icon 

Archival Sin

The Bentley is an intimate archive
With no armed guards and conveyor belts.

And no claims to universal knowledge
But only to Michigan.
Which is, after all, enough.
Isn’t it?

The doors of its heart opened wide
With the deposit of a borrowed quarter in a locker
And the orientation of a properly-rounded records gnome
Who lent me the quarter.

And I bent over six linear feet of court records
From Wayne County and Indiana Territory.
Whose names were all the attempts of dead men to hide the fact
That they were 18th century records from the Michigan Supreme Court

There were other researchers in non-archival jeans with irrelevant young faces.
But the friends of the archive, who respected it too much to use it,
Tittered in the conference room in scholarly garb
Eating donuts and talking about the lack of parking.

I was here to criticize the finding aid
Which was new thirty years ago.
And I was supposed to say it needed to be new and neutral
And put on a computer screen for the eyes of undergraduates to soil it
So they didn’t maul the fragile leaves inked in supercilious cursive
By our chronological betters.

But I angered the collection, the ghost in the machine
It turned on me because I had committed the unpardonable sin of distraction,
Rushing through a dozen folders while thinking about the future

So the past, angry that I did not respect its entire 52 linear feet
Cursed me with silence and confusion and backaches
And the dust of crumpling papers on my hands like Abel’s blood.

And I fled from the archives.
And redeemed myself with tea in the eyes of the past.

Emily no longer thinks I am a megalomaniac...

...Since I decided not to set my blog as my homepage. Such a sacrifice. Nothing brightens up my day like my own wit and eloquence.

Random Comment of the Day

APA is an ugly, graceless citation style. Probably because the social sciences are ugly, graceless subjects.

Common Sense and Sensibility

Most of you know that I do really stupid things occasionally. This impulse to go outside without my coat, to try sledding without a sled, to lean too far out windows, is what I term "me," since it is my first impulse.

Luckily, there is another, more thoughtful, less visceral me who usually pops up on my other shoulder and a dialog like the following insues:

Me: "My car smells musty, and I don't like the little pine thingies you hang on your mirror. Maybe I'll burn incense on my way to work tomorrow."

C.S.: "Probably not advisable. Car seats tend to be highly flammeable and it would be kind of hard to keep it from tipping over unless you intend to hold it between your teeth."

Little things make me unhappy...

I'm trying to perk myself up right now. I was watching the boy this evening and he was quite tired and disconsolate as well. He got very frustrated trying to do a dinosaur lace-up and was too overwrought about it to let me help him for awhile. I know how he feels.

Little problems:
1) I did laundry today. My white shirt still has a spot on it and I am missing a sock.
2) I had enough vodka-based drinks last night that I couldn't walk in a straight line (well, less straight than usual). It was fun at the time, but between that and Chinese food and 3 Austin Powers movies in a row until midnight, I woke up feeling less-than-perky.
3) I worked on a paper all morning, got stuck, emailed my GSI with a question, and haven't heard back from him so I can keep going.
4) I wasn't able to answer a reference question for the first time. (It was about the Gini Coefficient by region in China for the past 15 years. The answer simply wasn't there, but I still felt incompetent).
5) I've been busy with school and babysitting so I didn't get to go for my usual walk.
6) I dropped my pasta on the floor.

No, they're not big in themselves, but they're enough to give me a rather drab perception of the world and myself right now. So I'm fixing the little-things problem with little things: putting on new pajamas, listening to non-angsty music, drinking lemonade, and complaining on my blog.

OK, I am OFFICIALLY moving to Iceland or New Zealand...

http://www.nationmaster.com/graph-T/tax_tot_tax_wed_sin_wor

So much for our "free society." We're taxed more than Britain. OK, OK, I realize that they aren't factoring in ALL the taxes, but STILL...we shouldn't even be in the ballpark of countries that offer their citizens tangible benefits like health care (as opposed to "we're protecting you from terror by waging war on selected dictators.") Yeah, I know, the US is a target for every freedom-hating evil warmonger in the world because we stand tall as an example of Capitalism and Christianity. I guess that explains why we have to be the most militaristic nation behind Israel and Singapore (http://www.nationmaster.com/graph-T/mil_exp_dol_fig_cap). Instead of "standing tall" for capitalism and Christianity, maybe I'll just go quietly practice them in another country. Well...I guess I really can't help standing tall anyway, can I ;-)

I'm Going to Die at 83.6...

Of cancer, according to okcupid.com's death test. I'm 28% of the way through my life. So watch out...I'm going to be around to pester ya'll the rest of your mortal lives. Can anyone beat that score?

Labadie Collection of Social Protest

In SI 647 (Reference Librarian class) we had a visit from the director of the Special Collections Library here. Check it out (especially the sidebar of digital exhibits and the Labadie Collection): http://lib.umich.edu/spec-coll/. The website has links to some intriguing and eclectic exhibits (in some of them it is hard to get to the actual content, but it is there). Not listed on the website, but in the collection, are the papers of the Unibomber, with whom we have an "ongoing donor relationship." I, of course, particularly liked the anarchist posters exhibit.

Happy Halloween

I was a grown-up this Halloween. Almost. Since I didn't have Gabi and Stephanie to accompany me on wild gads through Purcellville, I bought candy and handed it out to the real children. In Puerto Rico and in VA, of course, we were sadly lacking in trick-or-treaters. Not this year. There were lots of them, and they cleaned me out. There were lots of witches and grim reapers (they probably went and had a Black Sabbath immediately afterwards). There was a particularly good little barbarian girl to whom I gave extra chocolate (I ALWAYS give chocolate). There are many Chinese international students in my neighborhood, and they seemed to have no scruples about taking pictures of me giving candy to their children. Unfortunately, I was wearing a wife beater and sweat pants. Dad wanted to take pictures of the trick-or-treaters down in Toledo, but Matthew restrained him with threats that he would end up in a cell with Michael Jackson.

Matt and I carved pumpkins that I picked from a farm. The features on mine were too big and the face caved in. I was nearly in tears (note: nearly) but Matthew tacked it back together with nails and it looked more gruesome than ever.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye

Dana is a manifoldly-talented and manifestly-beautiful human being. She glides around her red-doored dwelling radiating heavenly essence and incense. She has the soul of a cherubim and the mind of a seraphim. If the-Patristic-dude-who-thought-we'd-be-round-in-heaven were right, she'd already be a perfect sphere.

Electronic Resources

I just realized that many of you poor souls in post-graduation land don't have access to the 1500 networked electronic resources available through the university.

Great Scott! You probably don't even have the OED! To partially remedy your misfortune, perhaps I will post some entries. Do you feel better now?

Weisenheimer

U.S. slang.

[f. WISE a. + -enheimer, as in German names such as Oppenheimer.]
A wiseacre, a ‘clever dick’. Also attrib. or as adj.
1904 R. L. MCCARDELL Show Girl & her Friends 51 He wants to know some good way to reduce his weight... You don't know any such a way? No? Why, I thought you was a wiseheimer. 1919 MENCKEN Amer. Lang. v. 151 Several years ago -heimer had a great vogue in slang, and was rapidly done to death. But wiseheimer remains in colloquial use as a facetious synonym for smart-aleck, and after awhile it may gradually acquire dignity. 1919 National Police Gaz. (U.S.) 4 Jan. 3/1 Cawkins..like a true Wisenheimer, considered the gentle, goosey kind of a beautiful girl the most appetizing. 1922 S. LEWIS Babbitt xxiv. 287 The wisenheimers grab a look at a fellow's nails when they want to tell if he's a tinhorn or a real gent! 1937 Amer. Speech XII. 9/2 Some wiseheimer American newspaper man has picked this up and tagged it onto President Hoover. 1957 J. D. SALINGER Franny & Zooey (1964) 65 We were nervous..at the statistics on child pedants and academic weisenheimers who grow up into faculty-recreation-room savants. 1959 Washington Post 26 Dec. A19/2 Then some wisenheimer from the agency decided we needed a trailer. 1975 Times Lit. Suppl. 21 Feb. 185/1 The wisenheimer who gets his ornate come-uppance. 1977 M. BABSON Murder, Murder, Little Star vii. 50, I shoulda listened to her. But..I was too wisenheimer.

Wiseacre

1. One who thinks himself, or wishes to be thought, wise; a pretender to wisdom; a foolish person with an air or affectation of wisdom.
1595 Enq. Tripe-wife (1881) 146 Shall he run vp and downe the town,..accompanied with some such wise-akers as himselfe. 1609 DEKKER Gulls Horn-bk. Proemium 5 Thou Lady of Clownes and Carters, Schoolemistres of fooles and wisacres. 1654 WHITLOCK Zootomia 47 Syrupe of Poppy, (that edged Tool in the hands of such Doctor Wise~akers). 1711 STEELE Spect. No. 138 6 This Wiseacre was reckoned by the Parish, who did not understand him, a most excellent Preacher. 1810 SCOTT Fam. Lett. 31 Dec. (1894) I. vi. 202 This wise-acre thinks he should have a finger in every man's pie. 1852 THACKERAY Esmond I. xiii, I have heard politicians and coffee-house wise-acres talking over the newspaper. 1874 J. T. MICKLETHWAITE Mod. Par. Churches 115 The architect..is lectured on his own art by wiseacres, whose whole stock of knowledge is got up from ‘Parker's Glossary’.
b. Used in pl. form of a single person; sometimes as a quasi-proper name. Obs.
?1613 J. TAYLOR (Water P.) Laugh & be fat Wks. (1630) II. 71/1 A learned wiseakers. 1615 TOFTE Varchi's Blazon Jealousie 24 note, Wiseakers her Husband, neuer so much as once doubting or dreaming of any such matter. 1673 S'too him Bayes 9 When he has done (like a wise-acres) he makes nothing of it.
¶c. With allusion to acres as = ‘lands’; in first quot. app. applied to a landed estate.
1608 Yorksh. Trag. I. iii, Is the rubbish sold, those wise~akers your lands? a1734 NORTH Exam. II. v. §128 (1740) 394 If wise by their Acres, or, in a word Wiseacres, it was expected the Guineys should come out, for the Uses of Mobbing.
2. A wise or learned person, a sage. (Usually contemptuous.)
1753 in Gentl. Mag. XXIII. 417 (spuriously archaic) Pythagoras lerned muchebecomming a myghtye wyse~acre. 1814 Sporting Mag. XLIV. 271 The concourse of wiseacres..was truly astonishing. 1842 THACKERAY Fitz-Boodle's Conf. Pref., It requires no great wiseacre to know that. 1902 Sat. Rev. 29 Nov. 677/2 The stoic paradox that the cobbler who has got wisdom is the universal wiseacre.
Hence (nonce-wds.) wiseacred (-d) a., having the character of a wiseacre (in quot. with allusion to acre: cf. 1c above), whence wiseacredness; wiseacredom, the realm of wiseacres, wiseacres collectively; wiseacreish (-r) a., like or characteristic of a wiseacre (whence wiseacreishness); wiseacreism (-rz()m), wiseacrery (-r), something characteristic of a wiseacre; pretension to or affectation of wisdom, or a remark exhibiting this.
1603 DEKKER Wonderful Year B3, Each *wise-acred Landlord.
1848 EARL NORTHBROOK in Mallet Mem. (1908) 39 The conceited phraseology and would-be *wiseacredness of its professors.
1885 A. DOBSON Don Quix. in Sign of Lyre 93 To make *Wiseacredom, both high and low, Rub purblind eyes.
1834 J. WILSON in Blackw. Mag. XXXVI. 415 He..then perpends, in a *wiseacreish pause, to consider if they are all to be found.
1895 SAINTSBURY Corrected Impr. ii. 12 Ex post facto *wiseacre-ishness.
1861 T. L. PEACOCK Gryll Grange xxiii, Whist is more consentaneous to modern solemnity: there is more *wiseacre-ism about it.
1917 SAINTSBURY Hist. Fr. Novel I. 371 Interrupting his vizier and the other tale-tellers with *wiseacreries.

Poll: Should I Start Taking Baths?

Dana inspired me while I was in VA. She would take luxuriantly long baths and even had a little pillow for her back. Now, there are several obstacles to my successful bathing. First of all, the average tub tends to be a little, well, cramped for me. I wonder if they make custom tubs like they make custom caskets? Second of all, I've heard that sinks are usually more germy than toilet bowls--makes me wonder where tubs fit on the spectrum. I would definitely get down and dirty with the bleach before I commenced bathing. So what do you think?

1) Michaela's poor, tired, oversized bones deserve it!
2) Baths take less water and are better for the environment.
3) Michaela should stick to showers so she stays away from the bleach fumes.
4) Bathing is unsuitable material for a public blog.
5) Michaela obviously has too much time on her hands and should take up bobsledding.
6) Michaela should make a profession of pointless polls.
7) I will personally send Michaela some lovely lavender-scented bath foam and a rubber ducky(preferred response).

The Futility of Logic

Most people do not operate logically. Adults put up a facade; children are innocent bundles of wants and emotions.

Example 1:

A: Push me!
M: But you were dragging your feet and twisting sideways so that you stopped. The purpose of pushing is to swing. If you don't want to swing, then you don't need me to push you.
A: PUUUSHHHH MEEEEE!!!!!!

Example 2:

A: There are chemicals in the bathroom!!!
M: Mommy must have left the 405 there.
A: You need to put it back in the plastic container in the basement so I don't swallow it!!!!!!
M: *thinks but wisely does not say* If you know where it belongs and you know that you shouldn't swallow it, does it really matter if it is sitting in the bathroom?

Example 3:

A: *lying on the couch whining* My pen won't work.
M: It is out of ink; come over here and we'll see if we can fix it or find another color.
A: *continues lying on the couch whining*
M: We can't do anything while you're on the couch.
A: *continues lying on the couch whimpering for an indeterminate time*

Autumn and Bartleby.com

I was looking at quotations on Bartleby.com for a poetic heading for my pictures. As a great lover of Autumn, I was rather offended by this bit of Robert Browning:

Autumn wins you best by this its mute
Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
("Paracelsus," pt. 1, 1.25-26, 1835)

Wallace Steven advances another rather gruesome (but more eloquent?) acknowledgement of Autumn's appeal:


You like it under the trees in autumn,
Because everything is half dead.
The wind moves like a cripple among the leaves
And repeats words without meaning.
("The Motive for Metaphor")

My love for autumn has less to do with sympathy or necrophilia and more to do with the ethereal colors and crisp, invigorating air that is such a relief from the oppression of summer. As the trees become bare, humans begin to shroud their naked tans in the mysterious furs and wools of winter. Autumnal power and majesty are much better expressed in a verse by Geoffrey Hill (have any of you lit majors heard of him?)

Autumn resumes the land, ruffles the woods
with smoky wings, entangles them.
("An Apology for the Revival of Christian Architecture in England" New and Collected Poems, 1952 - 1992)

Shelley also has a proper admiration for Autumn (and I've actually read the whole poem before, for those of you who are horrified by my quote-digging).

There is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
("Hymn to Intellectual Beauty," 1816)

And, yes, Thoreau and I agree on something! (Perhaps you could take him for your model of outdoorsieness, Em, rather than Ma and Pa Kettle? So much more dignified, really. I'd much rather see you lying on a frozen pond than driving a rusting pick-up and chewing tobacco).

All the hills blush; I think that autumn must be the best season to journey over even the Green Mountains. You frequently exclaim to yourself, What red maples!
(A Yankee in Canada)

Francis Trollope upon visiting America:

The American spring is by no means so agreeable as the American autumn; both move with faltering step, and slow; but this lingering pace, which is delicious in autumn, is most tormenting in the spring.
(Domestic Manners of the Americans, 1832.)

And leave it to Camus to expand admiration for the season into a plea for humanity:

Martha: “What is Autumn?”
Jan: “A second spring, where the leaves imitate the flowers. Maybe it would be so too with human beings that you would see bloom if only you helped them with your patience.”
("The Misunderstanding," 1958)

I am too tired to look up the context for all these quotes right now, so feel free to condemn librarians and their damnable reference works for truncating poetry and literature. I admit it: all this text is merely a background for my pictures. This is my first real Autumn in many years. I've just been to Virginia, and it puts up a poor show compared to the north. I feel fallish.

Sunday

Here's the Funny Picture...

BTW, It's my Birthday!

Whereas...

I ate a sizeable bowl of old-fashioned oats this morning at the behest of Mr. Derby.

You may have noticed that I now have a counter on my blog because I am insecure. I make myself feel loved by setting my blog as my home page and counting my own visits.

Yesterday we were talking about collective memory in SI 504 and, among other examples of monuments/documents that create social consensus, one of the professors put a slide up of the Constitution. With George W. and three drones in suits looking at it. Everyone started laughing and derogatory remarks flew across the classroom. "He's having it read to him," commented the other professor. It's so unfamiliar yet satisfying to be around around other people who hate the Patriot Act, the War on Iraq, and the "Protect Marriage" amendment. Of course, everyone looks at me askance when I say that Roe v. Wade was an invasion of state's rights. I really think I am probably the only person who has the power to read the collective mind of the Founders (funny how everyone else seems to think they do, too).

I get to see Churchill and Mazzini tonight! And Darcy and Dana and Brooks!

Eating

I was going to put a picture of a starving person up for this post, but the only ones I could find were, like, of African babies or Holocaust victims, so I decided that was a little insensitive even for me.

There must be something inherently lean-looking about grad students. Which is understandable. My diet consists of a lot of carbs and dairy. Fruit and vegetables are impractical. Grapes I can eat before they go bad, but broccoli and lettuce start festering and wilting long before I get to the bottom of the bag. So I eat grilled cheese sandwiches and eggs just about every night. And even though I eat cereal every morning (I currently have four boxes), I can never finish a whole gallon of milk before it sours (I buy it because it is $0.10 cheaper than the half gallons when it is on sale, which is every week). Fibre is whole wheat bread, and antioxidants consist of green tea. My idea of a hot meal is enriched pasta with spaghetti sauce poured over it.

So my house mate occasionally takes pity on me and sits me down to broccoli and beef and rice. It is a symbiotic relationship because I always do the dishes. They often have free food at school....food like pizza and cookies and pop...because they care about our nutrition (?).

In other news, we were a grumpy lot in SI 501 today. It was rainy and cold, and we were discussing corporate culture and flow charts. I'm still not entirely sure why. Our unlucky GSI picked a bad day to have an evaluator come in and ask us how he (the GSI) was doing. But my group drew a nifty "artifact model" of a map book during the discussion time. You see, our big project is making suggestions to the map librarian about how to digitize rare articles and still keep them secure. Part of the challenge is preserving all the "metadata" like fly pages, watermarks, and notes in the margins.

Teacups

I am drinking a cup of green tea. Everytime I try to drink it, either the spoon or the string on the teabag hits me on the nose. I can only drink tea with lots of honey and lemon in it. Just like I don't like "real" beer. I like sugar and fruit and I am not ashamed of it. So there.

Eclipse (Beta Band)

The people asking questions to the people with the answers
The people with the answers ire the people with the questions
So the people with the questions asked the people with the answers
The people with the answers won't tell the people with the questions the answers

So the people with the questions they ask the people with the answers
But the people with the answers won't speak to them
Because the people with the answers give the people with the questions just a little bit too hard a time to speak to

I'm a man who likes to be alone
I'm a man who likes to think aloneI don't have too many answers, but I got a whole heap of questions
I got a whole heap of questions that I won't hide from you
So low, don't smile you get high

So the people with the books they went and stood up on the mountain
To get away from the people with no books
The people with the books they started reading on the mountain
but
they couldn't see a thing because the sky went dark
I don't know where the cloud cover came from
I'm just sitting here rocking on the station

I don't want to be the type of guy
who lives alone, reading books, and never eats a pizza pie
I don't want to be the type of person sitting alone with a book on my own

With a book on my own

The people with the questions got together
with the people with the books and left the people with answers out
So the people with the answers started to make their way over the hill
to meet with people with the questions and the people with the books

And we all live together on a little round ball
We all sing together when the cuckoo calls

I'm not the type best living alone
Could we live together? Well, I don't know..

I'm not sitting here giving you a lesson
So I'll just keep my mouth shut for the next few minutes

Can't keep quiet for long
I'm a human being
Can't help help singing this song
I'm a human being

You won't listen to me
I'm not an authority

So the people with the answers met the people with the questions
and the people with the books sat down
They finally decided to sit around to talk about their problems
to see if they come up with some answers to meet the questions
and some questions to meet the answers

well, the leaves on the trees are green
[ok we're agreed on that]
and the roads are not very clean
[ok we're agreed on that]
and the food we eat is not very healthy
[ok we're agreed on that]
and the music we make is not particularily good
[ok we're agreed on that]
and the planets sort of revolve around the sun
[ok we're agreed on that]
and the moon is a big ball with nothing on it, and I don't think anyone's ever been there
[ok, so we're kind of agreed to that, so what are we arguing about?
Well, I don't know.. Ok. so let's get together and smoke that pizza pie]

Some people with a pizza pie made me very high
The people with the questions smile
And the people with the answers lie
They lie

So no pizza for them.

Blue Lost :-(

To Minnesota...Coach Carr is an imbecile.

The Curse of the Librarian

"For him that steals, or borrows and returns not, a book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying aloud for mercy, and let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let bookworms gnaw at his entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not. And when at last he goes to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him for ever."

Inscription at the library of the San Pedro monastery in Barcelona, from The Island of Lost Maps, A True Story of Cartographic Crime, by Miles Harvey.

Don't you think they should inscribe this on overdue notices?

The Willi Hooper?

In Library Science programs, they talk a lot about famous archives and libraries named after philanthropists--"The Bentley," "The Beinecke," "The Peabody." Do you think my name could ever sound auspicious?

The Dangers of Sharp Knives

My housemates are "food people." I.e. they have lots of rare spices on the top shelf of the cabinet and lots of cool kitchen utensils. Like teflon pans and sharp knives. Now, I wasn't allowed to own a pocket knife until several years after my little brother (although he, fittingly enough, was the one who almost cut his toe off with a machete. Our knives at home are so dull you have to literally saw with them.

So what do I do with an arsenal of sharp knives and a busy schedule? Yes, I have knicked the fingers on my left hand, rather badly, three times this week. Typing is extremely painful, but as a devotee of pain, I continue to post frivolous blogs and type 8-page papers.

Mongolian BBQ

You know, posting blogs is really so much more fun than reading articles on Conceptual Inquiry by people named Holtzblatt. I find myself greatly amusing after 11:00.

My mom and grandparents came up this afternoon. I didn't think they would get through a whole week without me. They brought enough groceries for me to survive the Flood, so I really didn't mind. Mom now proudly carries the company phone with her and deals with all their "emergencies." She works 60 hrs a week and gets paid for 20. When I point this out to my grandparents, they nod sagely but riposte that she enjoys it. They're right, of course. I know exactly where the ADD in family comes from.

Anway, we went to a very neat Mongolian BBQ where you pick the ingredients for the stirfry yourself. I was doing dandy until I got to the spices and sauces. For some reason, when I saw "garlic chili" sauce, I thought of a comforting soup made of hamburger, kidney beans and tomato sauce. I scooped up 1/4 cup full. Turns out they were talking about the pepper. Let's just say my internal fires are well-stoked, to use the terminology of a popular diet fad book.

Poll: Is "No Man's Woman" Heretical?

I was thrilled to discover that I hadn't lost this song in transferring my files to my new computer. Note, I'm not asking for your opinion about O'Connor's view of men (although feel free to post that, too, if it is interesting, humorous, or virulent). Rather, is her view of the Diety obviously askew? I remember when Emma sent this to me she made some cautionary note to that effect and I'm just not seeing it. Potential problem is that the antecedent to "it" in "I'm never tired of it" is unclear. Do you think it's referring to God or God's love? Because she referred to him as "him" in the previous stanza. Also, note that the capitalization is from the lyrics site and not necessarily O'Connors.

Lyrics posted below for your benefit and convenience:

I don't wanna be no man's woman
It don't make me happy this mantrolling
thing that you got for me so I become
no man's woman

I don't wanna be no man's woman
I've other work I want to get done
I haven't travelled this far to become
no man's woman
no man's woman

Cuz I'm tired of it
and I'm so scared of it
that I'll never trust again
cuz a man can fake you
take your soul and make you
miserable in so much pain

My friends think I'm alone but I've got secrets
I don't tell everything about the love I get
I got a lovin' man but he's a spirit

He never does me harm never treats me bad
He'd never takes away all the love he has
and I'm forgiven oh a million times

I'm never tired of it and I'm not scared of it
cuz it doesn't cause me pain
Like a man can fake you
take your soul and make you
never be yourself again

I never wanna be no man's woman
I only wanna be my own woman
I haven't travelled this far to become
no man's woman (x3)

Merrily, Merrily

I by rights should have something very exciting to say--after all, new school, new city. But I don't really. Right now a Lego monster is staring me in the face--a "present" from Avery who is, at the moment, peacefully listening to "Twinkle, Twinkle" on his Suzuki Method violin tape.

The godless liberalism here doesn't bother me that much. I was bemused when I saw two guys walking around holding hands on the Diag. My friend, Abbey, smokes but I just stand up wind. I did raise a half-hearted objection the other day when my classmates were arguing that there should be no moral standards in what children have access to in libraries. Really, though, it isn't Sodom or anything around here, especially where I live. I'm sure the bars in the undergraduate areas are icky, but I don't really go there.

Tolerance is a beautiful thing. People can live together. Still, I think something can be said for Christian schools. Coexisting peacefully isn't the same thing as building your philosophy of the world together. For most people, their undergraduate education doesn't seem to have been as important in shaping their philosophy, and I wonder if it is because schools without an explicit worldview try to avoid the subject entirely.

Ha Ha

Em's sign, "Virgo," is even funnier--she's supposed to be orderly and detest squalor!!! And my ruling planet is Venus!!!

My Zodiac Sign

I never thought much about my Zodiac sign--I always felt guilty about reading the horoscope in the papers. But all the other people in my group project were talking about being Aries, so I was curious about what my Libra characteristics were and went to www.astrology-online.com/libra.htm to find out. I'm convinced--astrology is bunk! Read on.

"Libra is the only inanimate sign of the zodiac, all the others representing either humans or animals. Many modern astrologers regard it as the most desirable of zodiacal types because it represents the zenith of the year, the high point of the seasons, when the harvest of all the hard work of the spring is reaped. There is a mellowness and sense of relaxation in the air as mankind enjoys the last of the summer sun and the fruits of his toil. Librans too are among the most civilized of the twelve zodiacal characters and are often good looking. They have elegance, charm and good taste, are naturally kind, very gentle, and lovers of beauty, harmony (both in music and social living) and the pleasures that these bring.

"They have good critical faculty and are able to stand back and look impartially at matters which call for an impartial judgment to be made on them. But they do not tolerate argument from anyone who challenges their opinions, for once they have reached a conclusion, its truth seems to them self-evident; and among their faults is an impatience of criticism and a greed for approval. But their characters are on the whole balanced, diplomatic and even tempered.

"Librans are sensitive to the needs of others and have the gift, sometimes to an almost psychic extent, of understanding the emotional needs of their companions and meeting them with their own innate optimism - they are the kind of people of whom it is said, "They always make you feel better for having been with them." They are very social human beings. They loathe cruelty, viciousness and vulgarity and detest conflict between people, so they do their best to cooperate and compromise with everyone around them, and their ideal for their own circle and for society as a whole is unity.

"Their cast of mind is artistic rather than intellectual, though they are usually too moderate and well balanced to be avant garde in any artistic endeavor. They have good perception and observation and their critical ability, with which they are able to view their own efforts as well as those of others, gives their work integrity.


"In their personal relationships they show understanding of the other person's point of view, trying to resolve any differences by compromise, and are often willing to allow claims against themselves to be settled to their own disadvantage rather than spoil a relationship. They like the opposite sex to the extent of promiscuity sometimes, and may indulge in romanticism bordering on sentimentality. Their marriages, however, stand a good chance of success because they are frequently the union of "true minds". The Libran's continuing kindness toward his or her partner mollifies any hurt the latter may feel if the two have had a tiff. Nor can the Libran's spouse often complain that he or she is not understood, for the Libran is usually the most empathetic of all the zodiacal types and the most ready to tolerate the beloved's failings.


"The negative Libran character may show frivolity, flirtatiousness and shallowness. It can be changeable and indecisive, impatient of routine, colorlessly conventional and timid, easygoing to the point of inertia, seldom angry when circumstances demand a show of annoyance at least; and yet Librans can shock everyone around them with sudden storms of rage. Their love of pleasure may lead them into extravagance; Libran men can degenerate into reckless gamblers, and Libran women extravagant, jealous and careless about money sometimes squander their wealth and talents in their overenthusiasm for causes which they espouse. Both sexes can become great gossipers. A characteristic of the type is an insatiable curiosity that tempts them to enquire into every social scandal in their circle.


"In their work the description "lazy Libra" which is sometimes given is actually more alliterative than true. Librans can be surprisingly energetic, though it is true that they dislike coarse, dirty work. Although some are modestly content, others are extremely ambitious. With their dislike of extremes they make good diplomats but perhaps poor party politicians, for they are moderate in their opinions and able to see other points of view. They can succeed as administrators, lawyers (they have a strong sense of justice, which cynics might say could handicap them in a legal career), antique dealers, civil servants and bankers, for they are trustworthy in handling other people's money. Some Librans are gifted in fashion designing or in devising new cosmetics; others may find success as artists, composers, critics, writers, interior decorators, welfare workers or valuers, and they have an ability in the management of all sorts of public entertainment. Some work philanthropically for humanity with great self-disciple and significant results. Libran financiers sometimes make good speculators, for they have the optimism and ability to recover from financial crashes.

"Possible Health Concerns...
"Libra governs the lumbar region, lower back and kidneys. Its subjects must beware of weaknesses in the back, and lumbago, and they are susceptible to troubles in the kidneys and bladder, especially gravel and stone. They need to avoid overindulgence in food and especially drink, for the latter can particularly harm the kidneys."

Actually...

I'm happy about something besides the weather. I got a job (well-paying actually!) at the herbarium. It is quiet, it has a parking lot, and 1.7 million dried vascular plants, lichen, fungi, etc.

In Honor of the Wonderfully Gloomy Cold Weekend

I’m only happy when it rains
I’m only happy when it’s complicated
And though I know you can’t appreciate it
I’m only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
I’m only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me...

I’m only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
I’m only happy when it rains
I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didn’t accidentally tell you that
I’m only happy when it rains
You’ll get the message by the time I’m through
When I complain about me and you
I’m only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down...

You can keep me company
As long as you don’t care

I’m only happy when it rains
You wanna hear about my new obsession?
I’m riding high upon a deep depression

I’m only happy when it rains
Pour some misery down on me ...

Garbage

This Is My Pulse

Too mind-numbed to post anything substantive or funny. Here is another picture from Europe. It would be a little strange yet to be taking pictures of people here. I brought my old Schwinn bike up this week. It is at least 20 years old...rather an embarassment and it squeaks. I kind of caused an accident yesterday. I was innocently stopping at an intersection waiting for the light to change and a guy who was blocking the crosswalk backed up for me into another SUV. I felt badly about it the rest of the evening though it wasn't exactly my fault. I am combatting mild depression--there are places to go but no one to go with. One of my new friend fell on the stairs yesterday and broke her pelvis and tailbone, so she is out of commission for awhile. I was also quite embarassed today by one of my assignments--I was supposed to go and look things up in print encyclopedias--even World Book!!! Evidently I have to know how to use them because some Luddites still prefer them. Like Emily said, women are baskets of up-and-down emotions. Are guys really different, do you think?

Speaking of Europe, Avery was simply fascinated when I told him about Amsterdam and Venice, where the streets are made of water. I wish life were still that interesting. Was that rambl-y enough?

I'm Still Alive...Barely...

Whew! I just completed my move up to Ann Arbor. Orientation started last week so I got up at 6 a.m. for three days and drove an hour up to a commuter lot, where I caught the bus to campus. Orientation consisted mostly of meeting people, eating food, and going to meetings--most necessary of which was the tech orientation. We went on a scavenger hunt. That was...interesting. I was reminded that I walk much faster than most people. Classes start tomorrow with "Information Resources and Services," where I will actually be working on the Internet Public Library (ipl.org)! My other classes are "Use of Information" (group projects--ahh!!!), "Social Systems and Collections," and "Understanding Records & Archives."

In many ways Ann Arbor is so much better than PHC. There are two huge gyms, swimming pools, ice skating rinks, 14 libraries, free transportation, an arboreteum, a botanical gardens, many libraries, and a planetarium. The School is surrounded for six blocks by different ethnic restaurants.

In another way, I am afraid I will miss much of the comaraderie there was at PHC. People are friendly and smart, but they come from so many backgrounds and belief systems that I feel I must be guarded in what I say (huge challenge for me). Most of them have a different idea of fun than I do--I went to a bar the last evening with a student group and it was BORING! Plus I couldn't drink sangria 'cause I was driving home.... To my knowledge I haven't met one other Christian. I am going to look for a church up here. But, judging from the doctrinally-barren websites of the ones I have looked at, that might be a problem. I am seriously considering the Greek Orthodox church, but I'm sure I'd embarass myself if I just walked in.

I WILL soon write the deserved emails to my witty, talented, loyal, and fascinating correspodents whom I have been so remorsefully neglecting.

Fast Becoming My Mascot...

I thought I only had a bad case of "senioritis" when this was on my wallpaper last spring, but this is essentially the way I feel about starting at Ann Arbor next week. Probably a bad harbinger....Can you be tired of life at 22?

I'm Going to Imitate Emily...

And make a poll. Because fear of grad school starting next week is petrifying my creativity.

Who Am I Most Like?

1. Bertha Rochester (Jane Eyre)
2. Honoria Glossop (P.G. Woodhouse)
3. Juno
4. Beatrice (As You Like It)
5. Lady Macbeth (Macbeth)
6. Emma (Emma)
7. Mary (Pride and Prejudice)
8. Isabel (Portrait of a Lady)
9. Eve (Paradise Lost)
10. Do I have a problem with positive role models?

We're branded...

What all the political newspapers couldn't do to us, the New Yorker and the Daily Show did. People have now heard of Patrick Henry College. I had dinner with the family I will be living with last night, and as soon as the dad, who is Unitarian, learned my alma mater he started drilling me: "What is evangelicism? What is Zionism? Didn't you all go wild when you got away from your parents?" I've found that people are more curious, albeit defensively curious, than hostile. If I answer their questions civilly, they stop looking like I'm going to zap them with a cross.

Why Brianna Is a Stoic

Redheaded Women Have a Unique Ability

Blondes may have more fun, but redheaded women have a special quality that is as unique as their hair color. They have an innate ability to tolerate more pain than other people.
In studies on "redhead" mice, which actually have blonde fur but carry a similar gene to the one that causes red hair in humans, scientists from the Human Genetics Unit in Edinburgh, Scotland were able to target the pain-reducing mechanism. These red-haired mice have a similar ability as human female redheads to withstand higher pain thresholds compared with other mice and require less anesthetic to block out certain kinds of pain.
This Scottish study was a follow-up to research conducted at McGill University in Montreal several years ago. While testing the painkilling drug pentazocine, the McGill researchers discovered that the same gene that gives women red hair and fair skin also plays a role in the body's natural pain suppression system. However, it doesn't work for male carrot-tops. Redheaded women can tolerate more pain than anyone else, including men with red hair and men and women who do not have red hair. The others all had a similar and much lower tolerance to pain than flame-haired females.
"While we believe pain is the same in all women of all hair colors, our study shows women with red hair respond better to the painkilling drug we tested than anyone else--including men," lead researcher Jeffrey S. Mogil, a professor of pain studies at McGill, said in a news release.
Why would the gene that gives red hair and fair skin--identified as Mc1r--work differently in redheaded men and women? Mogil told Reuters that men and women are using different pain pathways. "If they were using the same pathways, then the redhead gene would have the same impact for both sexes," he added.
When we experience pain, our bodies attempt to dull the discomfort by releasing natural substances that are similar to medications like morphine. The gene Mc1r influences the pathway through which the body doles out those naturally occurring painkillers in women. It appears that in most people, the Mc1r gene produces a protein that reduces the ability of opioid drugs to block pain; however, in redheaded women, who have a non-functional version of the gene, such painkillers are free to work unhindered.
The goal of this ongoing research is to determine if there is a natural mechanism at work in redheads that can be adapted to help develop new painkillers and anesthetics for the rest of us.

Angsty Lyrics...

i couldn't let brianna's happy lyrics create a bubbly imbalance in cyberspace, so here, to balance out "what a wonderful world...."

save me

well i got a candle
and i've got a spoon
i live in a hallway
with no doors
and no rooms
under a window seat
they all were found
a touch of concrete
within the doorway
without a sound
someone save me if you will
and take away all these pills
and please just save me if you can
from my blasphemy in my wasteland

how did i get here
and what went wrong
couldn't handle forgiveness
now i'm far beyond gone
and i can hardly remember
the look of my own eyes
how could i love this
a life so dishonest
it made me compromise
someone save me if you will
and take away all these pills
and please just save me if you can
from my blasphemy in my wasteland

jump in the water
jump in with me
jump on the altar
lay down with me
my heart is questioned
the answer is why

someone save me if you will
and take away all these pills
and please just save me if you can
from my blasphemy in my wasteland
someone save me
someone save me
somebody save me
somebody save me
please don't erase me

--Shinedown

Ann Has a Blog!!!

After many weeks of haranguing by her sadly deprived and waffish friends, the good Queen Mum has condescended to soil her lily-white hands with the democratic loam in order to sculpt a truly superior and uppity blog--despite the fact that she has a life. I promise it will be scintillating and biting, but I will not vouch for its wholesomeness or sincerity.

Do visit! aelitten.blogspot.com.

Good News, Bad News

Good news. (In response to Brianna's question below). I've found a liveable living situation up at University of Michigan. At first I was feeling all progressive and independent, and looking at rooms in co-ed apartments. That soon stopped. One situation was a one-bedroom apartment I would be sharing with two foreign guys. Not a huge problem, except they would be setting up camp in the living room! The other place I looked at was one of those old, run-down college houses with six other people. There was no parking, the house smelled like the four cats that lived there, and my room was a cement block cell in an unfinished basement--cost $300 plus utilities.

I was desperate when I got to the last place. Lucretia was a mother studying opera whose husband was going to Seattle to study law, so she was offering me reduced rent in return for watching her little boy. The apartment is in the campus family housing. It is predictably drab on the outside, but it is much quieter, cleaner, and roomier than the other places I looked. I have a room with a window looking out on the communal garden and hardwood floors. There is a basement as well as a living room, my own parking spot, laundry privileges, and hi-speed wireless internet. What else could a girl want? My grandparents are giving me furniture. I will transplant my aloe, peppermint and oregano into pots, frame my prints from the Getty, buy a rag rug, and everything will be perfect! Right? I will probably take the bus (free to students) down to Central Campus, which is beautiful but a parking nightmare.

Ann Arbor is really a great town--lots of diversity, health food stores, museums, and ethnic restaurants. It's almost like being on the East Coast again. People should come visit me.

The bad news is that my little cousin, Mikey, from Wisconsin, was killed by a train today. He never developed a sense of danger--he was fishing off a railroad bridge with two friends when the train came. They ran away, but he forgot his pole and went back for it. The train knocked him off the bridge and, probably unconscious, he was beyond saving when they recovered him 30 minutes later. We weren't close, but I feel bad for my dad's family right now. My grandma is also dying of lung cancer.

Gothic Cathedrals