I'm kind of living the "When in Rome" motto these days - when in Rome, go to places and events Rome has.
I wish I was actually in Rome, so my re-worked motto could be literal as well as figurative, but I'll work with what I've got.
I am, however, in the place where the most anticipated Layman's Rally was staged to take place this weekend. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's "Rally to Restore Sanity And/Or Fear" stormed the National Mall in DC yesterday. And I was there.
A friend and I decided that we should go be part of history, so we met up with a few other friends and made our way - somehow - into the city. The Metro was a nasty place to be yesterday, to be sure. Even though we went in a little late, planning to get there right when Jon Stewart took the stage - skipping the pre-show excitement - there was still a huge crowd of people on the platform, waiting for trains as well. Apparently, earlier in the morning, there had been lines to even get into the Metro station, so many people were making their way into the city!
I managed to keep breathing through the heavy crowds around me (despite a slight cold that was fighting my nasal passages, yuck), but my claustrophobia started to kick in after we got off the train and made our way to the stairs to get out of the station. Masses of people were trying to squeeze their way onto the tiny escalators to get up, and it was all I could do to not start throwing punches to get out of there. But we made it, and I was so happy to get out of the crowded Metro.
Then we ran into the rally crowd.
I saw on a news article today that an estimated 250,000 people attended the rally. I believe it.
Despite Jon's theme, it was INSANE!
We wiggled our way into the rally somehow, smushed between hordes of people, and unfortunately, those people were basically our best view of the rally. We were so far from the closest screen that we couldn't really make out what was going on, and the speakers were nowhere near us, so people kept having to ask each other what was just said.
We cheered when we heard other people cheer.
We applauded when we heard applause in front of us.
We laughed when we made our own jokes, having no idea what other people were laughing at.
It was a pretty fun time.
We actually did get a little closer as we inched our way inward, but the most memorable moments really came from when we were further back. We were behind this tree when we first entered the throng, and a girl was sitting up in it - and these trees are huge, and really tall, so we're not too sure how she got up. Eventually, a boy decided he wanted to get up there, too, so he started scaling the tree. The murmur of speculation about whether he'd make it or plummet to the earth came over our section of the crowd. We gasped when he lost a little grip and we cheered as one when he made it into the tree. Everyone had forgotten about the rally momentarily - how much were we really a part of it before, anyway? - and this guy had become the focus. Then his friend started working his way up, a little less skillfully, and we were laughing a little at his gangly frame trying to conquer the massive tree. But we all cheered again as his friend steadied him in the tree. A third friend went up, too, positively shaking with fear, and we were all relieved when he made it, as though we knew him personally or something.
Then, as the 4 people were all tucked into the tree, we heard behind us, "HEY! GET OUT OF THE TREE!" The policeman's voice was impressively powerful to reach our ears from as far back as he was. The guys heard him and made their way back down, which was just as entertaining, but the girl heard nothing, so she stayed up. The policeman came closer to us, muttering, "Man, I don't want to go into this crowd, nobody wants me in here," half exasperated, half bemused. He and another office came in and called the girl down, and the people around the tree all helped her on her way down, since no one had any idea how she was going to get down herself - we were still rather impressed at how she might've gotten up there!
Then the policemen, standing right next to us, saw some people in a neighboring tree and sighed, refusing to fight their way through the crowd over to the tree. So they yelled to the tree-dwellers, who didn't hear them. So, they went on to the next tactic to do their job - they told all of us to yell, on the count of 3, "GET OUT OF THE TREE!" Our little section was unified at this moment, as everyone yelled together to get the people out of the tree.
When they still didn't budge, but looked a little confused about the fuss, I offered to throw some rocks at them to get them out. The 2nd policeman declined that idea, noting he wasn't nervous about me hitting the tree-dwellers, but the people around them would get hit, too. Then he wondered where his super-soaker watergun was, because that would be perfect. Finally, the message reached the people, and they got out of the tree, and the policemen made their way out of the crowd, praising us for our great police work.
That's the thing about rallies and events like this - everyone's there just to have a good time, so everyone was super nice. There were quite a few times when a hole opened up in front of us, and some guy next to me asked if I wanted to go up, instead of taking it right away himself. People were telling other people what was being said, cracking jokes with strangers, and having an all-around good time. Jon was right when he advertised this rally as being like Woodstock, but without the nudity and drugs.
It really was a blast, even if I couldn't hear most of what was going on, and it took us 30 minutes to get through 20 meters of road when we were trying to leave. And that was when Stephen Colbert's rally theme seemed to win out to me - fear was restored when I wondered if I'd ever make it out of the crowded streets, or if I'd be stuck there forever, not moving, not getting away.
But sanity pushed its way back as I realized that was an irrational worry, and I started shoving people out of my way to get back home.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Costume Brainstorms at 1am
I was talking with my friend earlier tonight about a Halloween dance/party we decided we'll attend this coming Saturday (after attending Jon Stewart's "Rally to Restore Sanity" Saturday morning, of course). It's a costume party, of course, so we were brainstorming on what we would be this year - mainly what she would be. I tend to stick to an outfit for multiple years - you may call me boring and unoriginal, but I consider it more economically-conscientious; I like to get good use out of my costumes. Plus I get anxious about putting together actual costumes, so when I get a good one, I hold on to it.
Take my poodle skirt phase - I was a 50's girl for about 7 years in a row, due to an oddly large amount of poodle skirts we seemed to have. They were all cute, and I loved wearing them, so I took the opportunity as much as possible. I'd be one now if I had a skirt again.
Then there was the default witch costume I used for 4 straight years as a child - it was a cute little dress, and I was darling, so why change a good thing? Plus, I got to wear tights with ghosts on them - pretty rad, if I may say so myself!
I was an Indian one year, which I really enjoyed, and who in our family didn't enjoy the cute little lamb costume at age 3?
In college, I had to just do whatever I could with what I already had, so I've also been: Grandmother Willow (from Pocahontas, though I think of it more as a prequel - Gma Willow in her younger years), the Rainbow (a happy accident, I must say), and a couch potato (this didn't really require a costume, just a determination to not get off the couch all night...I was a good one that year).
But just because my actual costumes are often repeated and rather bland, it doesn't mean I don't have a good imagination for costumes that others can wear! I had some good ones for my friend tonight. My ideas, and the ideas I got from children's costume lists, made for a good selection to choose from.
MY TOP 5:
5. Inky, from Pacman - everyone goes the Mario Kart way, but Inky's pretty original - it's also on the list of 10 unsexy costumes, for girls who don't want to be a 'sexy' something this year. Awesome.
4. A Working Floor Lamp - a classic of brother Ben's making. I'm oftentimes impressed by that guy. Props to his creativity, channeling a Karate Kid-esque idea and making it work. Literally. It's a costume I share with everyone when this conversation comes up.
3. Lawn Gnome - If I was shorter, it'd be the automatic go-to costume of choice.
2. A Pig in a Blanket - a nice pun on the food. It's my back-up plan right now...
And the #1 goes to...
1. Crazy Cat Lady - complete with slippers and tattered bathrobe, crazy messy hair, nasty lipstick and rouge, and a multitude of stuffed kitties glued to her or hanging on leashes. Awesome, no? Pure inspiration, that one.
Honorary Mentions:
* Lumberjack - this makes the list purely because my friend had thought of it, with a nasty unibrow and other blah features, and I said, "Oh, so a Minnesota Lumberjack then?" A little Northern Midwest humor - if such a thing exists. I thought I was pretty clever, anyway.
* Sister Wives - you need to have 3 or 4 other friends who are okay hitting the streets frumpy-style, and feeling all-around kind of creeped out, but still, clever. Curiously, this also made the list of 10 unsexy costumes, though I can't imagine why...
Honestly, I fall more in love with the Crazy Cat Lady idea the more I think about it. I'm going to need to remember this one and bust it out at the next family party in a few years, when I'm still single and by my lonesome, and everyone else is surrounded with their growing families. It'll be a good time.
Or perhaps I'll use it this year when kids come knocking at my door, asking if I have any treats to give in order to save myself from getting tricked - when I open the door, they won't know if it's a costume or real life, and they'll run away screaming. Who got the last trick now, suckers?!
Take my poodle skirt phase - I was a 50's girl for about 7 years in a row, due to an oddly large amount of poodle skirts we seemed to have. They were all cute, and I loved wearing them, so I took the opportunity as much as possible. I'd be one now if I had a skirt again.
Then there was the default witch costume I used for 4 straight years as a child - it was a cute little dress, and I was darling, so why change a good thing? Plus, I got to wear tights with ghosts on them - pretty rad, if I may say so myself!
I was an Indian one year, which I really enjoyed, and who in our family didn't enjoy the cute little lamb costume at age 3?
In college, I had to just do whatever I could with what I already had, so I've also been: Grandmother Willow (from Pocahontas, though I think of it more as a prequel - Gma Willow in her younger years), the Rainbow (a happy accident, I must say), and a couch potato (this didn't really require a costume, just a determination to not get off the couch all night...I was a good one that year).
But just because my actual costumes are often repeated and rather bland, it doesn't mean I don't have a good imagination for costumes that others can wear! I had some good ones for my friend tonight. My ideas, and the ideas I got from children's costume lists, made for a good selection to choose from.
MY TOP 5:
5. Inky, from Pacman - everyone goes the Mario Kart way, but Inky's pretty original - it's also on the list of 10 unsexy costumes, for girls who don't want to be a 'sexy' something this year. Awesome.
4. A Working Floor Lamp - a classic of brother Ben's making. I'm oftentimes impressed by that guy. Props to his creativity, channeling a Karate Kid-esque idea and making it work. Literally. It's a costume I share with everyone when this conversation comes up.
3. Lawn Gnome - If I was shorter, it'd be the automatic go-to costume of choice.
2. A Pig in a Blanket - a nice pun on the food. It's my back-up plan right now...
And the #1 goes to...
1. Crazy Cat Lady - complete with slippers and tattered bathrobe, crazy messy hair, nasty lipstick and rouge, and a multitude of stuffed kitties glued to her or hanging on leashes. Awesome, no? Pure inspiration, that one.
Honorary Mentions:
* Lumberjack - this makes the list purely because my friend had thought of it, with a nasty unibrow and other blah features, and I said, "Oh, so a Minnesota Lumberjack then?" A little Northern Midwest humor - if such a thing exists. I thought I was pretty clever, anyway.
* Sister Wives - you need to have 3 or 4 other friends who are okay hitting the streets frumpy-style, and feeling all-around kind of creeped out, but still, clever. Curiously, this also made the list of 10 unsexy costumes, though I can't imagine why...
Honestly, I fall more in love with the Crazy Cat Lady idea the more I think about it. I'm going to need to remember this one and bust it out at the next family party in a few years, when I'm still single and by my lonesome, and everyone else is surrounded with their growing families. It'll be a good time.
Or perhaps I'll use it this year when kids come knocking at my door, asking if I have any treats to give in order to save myself from getting tricked - when I open the door, they won't know if it's a costume or real life, and they'll run away screaming. Who got the last trick now, suckers?!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
The Eerie Beauty of Monuments at Night
Today I went into "work" for 2 hours, to finish some training I've been getting the last 2 days, for when I officially start my job on November 8th.
Which means I basically spent the last 3 days learning things I will most definitely have forgotten in 2 weeks when I need to remember it all again.
It made me feel the need for some good exploration before I settle down into being a normal person again, wanting nothing to do having fun and enjoying the city. Luckily, my new friend Jillian understood my restlessness and offered the idea of visiting some of the Capitol's monuments at night.
Turns out, I like the monuments best at night.
They really have their moment in the spotlight at night - quite literally. It was gorgeous walking around the National Mall, seeing all the monuments lit up and shining in every direction. It felt so safe and inviting. Despite the chilly night and a rather cold nose, it was a great outing.
As we walked along the really long reflection pool between the WWII monument and the Lincoln Memorial, friend Jillian reminded me of the scene in Forrest Gump, when the girl runs through the pond while Forrest is speaking at a rally. I considered that it seemed like a great experience to have, so I decided to walk through the pond as well toward the Lincoln Memorial. I looked around - it was dark, and there were no guards, or anyone in general, to yell at me to get out, and Jillian and I stepped over the side, into the pool and made our way to the other end.
Oddly enough, the pool, which is usually quite full, was half-drained, with mud along the edges. So, if you want to a stickler, I suppose we didn't really relive the scene from Forrest Gump. We just walked along the dry edges, next to the mud. We weren't really sure why it was empty like that, but we seized the opportunity it created, so we could say that we walked through the reflection pool - something most people don't do, you know, since you can't. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be allowed on a normal, completely-full-pool day. At least, it wouldn't be looked highly upon. But when was the last time I cared about doing things people might look down on me for? (oh yeah, that's right, just this morning, actually...oh well.)
Before the pool, though, we walked around part of the WWII memorial, and I noted all the states that I had some connection with, direct or indirect, and bored J. with my random notes of reference for the various places. We did stop and check out Wisconsin's spot, but then moved hastily on when we realized spiders were dangling on the wreath, waiting to dive-bomb us. Gross.
We checked out the Lincoln Memorial, which is much less crowded on a chilled Friday evening than on a warm Saturday afternoon - go figure - and I enjoyed the space I had to move around and really look at the place.
Then we made our way to the Vietnam Memorial, where we passed a guy who had just found someone and was starting to break down in sobs. It broke my heart a little bit, but at the same time, I was glad this was here for him to find even just the name to connect with for a few minutes. We moved on to the Korean War Memorial after, which is really cool and pretty normally, but late at night, close to Halloween, it's actually a little eerie. The carvings on the Memorial kind of look like ghosts, and the statues of the soldiers marching on were a little creepy in the dark. But it was an interesting place to walk around.
But by now, it was a little after 11pm, and we decided it was time to make our way home. After getting lost while trying to find a parking spot - any parking spot! - around the Mall, and inadvertently leaving the area all together before making it back, it had felt like we'd been there for awhile, and despite feeling rather safe here (even if, at the heart of the matter, I was still a little white girl walking around the middle of a rather large, dark city), we thought 11:15 at night seemed like a good time to leave.
As we left, we saw tents that were being set up nearby. There's always something going on Saturdays at the Mall, but we were intrigued about what this specifically was. As we got to a light, I saw giant signs on a few tents, marking the spots for "BIKES," "LADIES," and "MEDICAL." My first thought was, maybe there's a triathlon going on here? J agreed it could be, but questioned where they would swim.
The half-full reflection pool seemed the only logical choice to me. It's not very deep at all, but those turtles and crocodile-looking tree stumps may slow your progress down. Not to mention all the mud caking the edges of the receding waters to keep you from escaping the waters easily. Good luck with that, swimmers...
I'll have to look up what awesome event with bikes we're missing tomorrow. But as for next weekend, I can tell you what I'll be enjoying down at the Mall - with all the logic and practicality I have, I will be calmly and thoughtfully enjoying Jon Stewart's "Rally to Restore Sanity." This is a campaign I fully support, since I generally live sanely and require an ability to act sanely from those I associate with, as a rule. Ironically, I anticipate a quite insane crowd to gather for this - and I'm excited to experience it! Of course, if the sanity is a little too boring, I'll just leave and step on over to Stephen Colbert's "March to Keep Fear Alive." It will be Halloween weekend, after all - you'd be hardset to chase fear away that weekend anyway.
And that, my friends, is why I moved to DC. To enjoy the Capitol of our country, in every light, aspect, and rally that I can!
Which means I basically spent the last 3 days learning things I will most definitely have forgotten in 2 weeks when I need to remember it all again.
It made me feel the need for some good exploration before I settle down into being a normal person again, wanting nothing to do having fun and enjoying the city. Luckily, my new friend Jillian understood my restlessness and offered the idea of visiting some of the Capitol's monuments at night.
Turns out, I like the monuments best at night.
They really have their moment in the spotlight at night - quite literally. It was gorgeous walking around the National Mall, seeing all the monuments lit up and shining in every direction. It felt so safe and inviting. Despite the chilly night and a rather cold nose, it was a great outing.
As we walked along the really long reflection pool between the WWII monument and the Lincoln Memorial, friend Jillian reminded me of the scene in Forrest Gump, when the girl runs through the pond while Forrest is speaking at a rally. I considered that it seemed like a great experience to have, so I decided to walk through the pond as well toward the Lincoln Memorial. I looked around - it was dark, and there were no guards, or anyone in general, to yell at me to get out, and Jillian and I stepped over the side, into the pool and made our way to the other end.
Oddly enough, the pool, which is usually quite full, was half-drained, with mud along the edges. So, if you want to a stickler, I suppose we didn't really relive the scene from Forrest Gump. We just walked along the dry edges, next to the mud. We weren't really sure why it was empty like that, but we seized the opportunity it created, so we could say that we walked through the reflection pool - something most people don't do, you know, since you can't. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be allowed on a normal, completely-full-pool day. At least, it wouldn't be looked highly upon. But when was the last time I cared about doing things people might look down on me for? (oh yeah, that's right, just this morning, actually...oh well.)
Before the pool, though, we walked around part of the WWII memorial, and I noted all the states that I had some connection with, direct or indirect, and bored J. with my random notes of reference for the various places. We did stop and check out Wisconsin's spot, but then moved hastily on when we realized spiders were dangling on the wreath, waiting to dive-bomb us. Gross.
We checked out the Lincoln Memorial, which is much less crowded on a chilled Friday evening than on a warm Saturday afternoon - go figure - and I enjoyed the space I had to move around and really look at the place.
Then we made our way to the Vietnam Memorial, where we passed a guy who had just found someone and was starting to break down in sobs. It broke my heart a little bit, but at the same time, I was glad this was here for him to find even just the name to connect with for a few minutes. We moved on to the Korean War Memorial after, which is really cool and pretty normally, but late at night, close to Halloween, it's actually a little eerie. The carvings on the Memorial kind of look like ghosts, and the statues of the soldiers marching on were a little creepy in the dark. But it was an interesting place to walk around.
But by now, it was a little after 11pm, and we decided it was time to make our way home. After getting lost while trying to find a parking spot - any parking spot! - around the Mall, and inadvertently leaving the area all together before making it back, it had felt like we'd been there for awhile, and despite feeling rather safe here (even if, at the heart of the matter, I was still a little white girl walking around the middle of a rather large, dark city), we thought 11:15 at night seemed like a good time to leave.
As we left, we saw tents that were being set up nearby. There's always something going on Saturdays at the Mall, but we were intrigued about what this specifically was. As we got to a light, I saw giant signs on a few tents, marking the spots for "BIKES," "LADIES," and "MEDICAL." My first thought was, maybe there's a triathlon going on here? J agreed it could be, but questioned where they would swim.
The half-full reflection pool seemed the only logical choice to me. It's not very deep at all, but those turtles and crocodile-looking tree stumps may slow your progress down. Not to mention all the mud caking the edges of the receding waters to keep you from escaping the waters easily. Good luck with that, swimmers...
I'll have to look up what awesome event with bikes we're missing tomorrow. But as for next weekend, I can tell you what I'll be enjoying down at the Mall - with all the logic and practicality I have, I will be calmly and thoughtfully enjoying Jon Stewart's "Rally to Restore Sanity." This is a campaign I fully support, since I generally live sanely and require an ability to act sanely from those I associate with, as a rule. Ironically, I anticipate a quite insane crowd to gather for this - and I'm excited to experience it! Of course, if the sanity is a little too boring, I'll just leave and step on over to Stephen Colbert's "March to Keep Fear Alive." It will be Halloween weekend, after all - you'd be hardset to chase fear away that weekend anyway.
And that, my friends, is why I moved to DC. To enjoy the Capitol of our country, in every light, aspect, and rally that I can!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
One Step Closer to Ruling the World
Well, it's not really a surprise, since I'm pretty sure I've told everyone I can think of in some way or another, but...I HAVE A JOB!
(I feel like that lead-in would fit an engagement announcement best, but this announcement will just have to do for now...)
I'm super excited about it, for 2 main reasons: 1.) It's a job in a Congressman's office, in Washington, DC, the capitol of the nation - it's the ultimate of governmental positions for a girl with no previous political interests; and B.) it's a job, and I really needed to find a job.
I will be working for Congressman Wally Herger - R, who is in the House of Representatives, representing a district in Northern California, around Sacramento, specifically the Chico area. Having once had a roommate who was from Chico, I feel like I know the place already, so I think it's a perfect fit.
I think my favorite part about all of this is that when I came in for a 2nd interview, to meet Congressman Herger, he was in California, so we got to video chat for a little bit. It was a new experience for us both, and I'm not sure who was more tickled about it, though Congressman Herger was quite delighted with the technology capabilities we got to employ. My cousin Jeremy, having looked him up, decided that he had some strong haircut resemblances to Grandpa Barlow, and when I thought about it, I realized this excitement over the video chat resembled G-pa Barlow's love of computers, too, which seemed like another good omen to me.
This whole thing happened rather quickly, I must say. Only 8 days ago, I'd forgotten completely about the fact that I'd sent my resume in for this position. But one phone call and two interviews all crammed into one week, and I've gone from unemployed with no hope to deciding how parts of this country will be run.
So my "official" title is Executive Assistant/Office Manager/Scheduler. Apparently I can decide what I really want my title to be - the chief of staff said I could choose what I wanted to go by. I was toying with the ideas of "She Who Must Be Obeyed" or "Babysitter to the Congressman," but then I realized the 1st one had been used before so people would get confused (here's to you, dad!), and the second just didn't sound professional enough - it made me seem 15 years old and boy-crazy, which may actually be closer to the truth than anything else... - so I went with the regular jargon. I'll probably drop 'scheduler,' but for now, it helps explain my duties a little better.
I'm going to start getting trained a little in my job this week, so hopefully I can live up to the high expectations of the office - I think they're anticipating a lot out of me, apparently I led them to believe I was really smart and quick to catch on. I'll just have to tap into the supernatural mental abilities I'd perfected my senior year of college (which I quickly lost when I started working at a financial company - it would seem not even my super learning & comprehension powers couldn't survive the insurance & investments business...).
But anyway, that's my life right now. For my closing remarks, I'd like to say sorry to my mom for finding a job, which will allow me to stay here a little longer. And even less than 24 hours after you'd pushed for me to apply to U of U's English program. Bummer. Of course, if by whatever fluke, the elections don't go quite right in November, perhaps that plan will still be valid...but I'm not anticipating any changes in the next few weeks (fingers crossed!).
Also, after a conversation with a friend who's decided to go on a mission, and all I really wanted to do was spread her news to various friends of ours, I've also wanted to make an official apology to my brother, Ben Barlow - sorry for stealing your thunder when your mission call came and I ran out to tell mom where you were going. What can I say, I'm a punk like that.
All and all, it's been a busy week/2 days in this neck of the woods. Here's hoping the rest of the week can keep up!
(I feel like that lead-in would fit an engagement announcement best, but this announcement will just have to do for now...)
I'm super excited about it, for 2 main reasons: 1.) It's a job in a Congressman's office, in Washington, DC, the capitol of the nation - it's the ultimate of governmental positions for a girl with no previous political interests; and B.) it's a job, and I really needed to find a job.
I will be working for Congressman Wally Herger - R, who is in the House of Representatives, representing a district in Northern California, around Sacramento, specifically the Chico area. Having once had a roommate who was from Chico, I feel like I know the place already, so I think it's a perfect fit.
I think my favorite part about all of this is that when I came in for a 2nd interview, to meet Congressman Herger, he was in California, so we got to video chat for a little bit. It was a new experience for us both, and I'm not sure who was more tickled about it, though Congressman Herger was quite delighted with the technology capabilities we got to employ. My cousin Jeremy, having looked him up, decided that he had some strong haircut resemblances to Grandpa Barlow, and when I thought about it, I realized this excitement over the video chat resembled G-pa Barlow's love of computers, too, which seemed like another good omen to me.
This whole thing happened rather quickly, I must say. Only 8 days ago, I'd forgotten completely about the fact that I'd sent my resume in for this position. But one phone call and two interviews all crammed into one week, and I've gone from unemployed with no hope to deciding how parts of this country will be run.
So my "official" title is Executive Assistant/Office Manager/Scheduler. Apparently I can decide what I really want my title to be - the chief of staff said I could choose what I wanted to go by. I was toying with the ideas of "She Who Must Be Obeyed" or "Babysitter to the Congressman," but then I realized the 1st one had been used before so people would get confused (here's to you, dad!), and the second just didn't sound professional enough - it made me seem 15 years old and boy-crazy, which may actually be closer to the truth than anything else... - so I went with the regular jargon. I'll probably drop 'scheduler,' but for now, it helps explain my duties a little better.
I'm going to start getting trained a little in my job this week, so hopefully I can live up to the high expectations of the office - I think they're anticipating a lot out of me, apparently I led them to believe I was really smart and quick to catch on. I'll just have to tap into the supernatural mental abilities I'd perfected my senior year of college (which I quickly lost when I started working at a financial company - it would seem not even my super learning & comprehension powers couldn't survive the insurance & investments business...).
But anyway, that's my life right now. For my closing remarks, I'd like to say sorry to my mom for finding a job, which will allow me to stay here a little longer. And even less than 24 hours after you'd pushed for me to apply to U of U's English program. Bummer. Of course, if by whatever fluke, the elections don't go quite right in November, perhaps that plan will still be valid...but I'm not anticipating any changes in the next few weeks (fingers crossed!).
Also, after a conversation with a friend who's decided to go on a mission, and all I really wanted to do was spread her news to various friends of ours, I've also wanted to make an official apology to my brother, Ben Barlow - sorry for stealing your thunder when your mission call came and I ran out to tell mom where you were going. What can I say, I'm a punk like that.
All and all, it's been a busy week/2 days in this neck of the woods. Here's hoping the rest of the week can keep up!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Wise Words Come With Strange Imagery
I moved to the basement bedroom this week, so a new roommate could have my room upstairs. She's a good friend of my other roommate who owns the place, and she had visited a little while back and had a really strong feeling that she needed to be out here when she stayed in that bedroom. Blah blah blah, I had been asked before if I'd be okay with living down here in the basement - with my own bathroom - if this girl moved in, and I said I could probably make that work. I didn't anticipate it happening after I moved in, as it didn't sound like she was actually going to come. But then one day, everything was settled and the question of me moving resurfaced.
At first, I wasn't super excited about the idea, but I had said it could probably work, and we needed a 3rd roommate, so I sucked it up and figured I could at least handle it for a few months and then I could try to sell my contract if needs be. And once we sprayed and killed the bugs that had moved in over the last weekend, I felt much better about it (Note: Chris, that spider really was huge, no exaggeration - I know you were thinking it. My roommate wasn't going to believe me either, until she saw it and agreed that it filled more of the tupperware than one would want to see).
The problem of moving again, though, is that I have to organize again...sigh. So my room is a slight mess - though there's a lot more room for the mess to be in now - but I spent tonight trying to get everything a little bit more settled. As I was moving things around, I picked up some binders I keep close to my bed, wondering where to put them now, and between the binders, I found the book I had to put together for my Senior Writing Seminar class of my favorite writing pieces. So I snuggled into my bed and took some time perusing some of my better papers and essays.
The teacher I had for this class was a huge fan of C.S. Lewis, so when I had to come up with a name for this collection, the teacher I T.A.'ed for tried to help me by thinking of ways we could change Lewis book titles for me. Some of our favorites were "The Problem of Kate" (the original is the Problem of Pain), "The Great Kate" (Divorce), and "The Chronicles of Kate" specifically, "The Lion, The Witch, and the Kate." My teacher's absolute favorite though, was his idea of "Mere Kate-ianity," to play on "Mere Christianity." Oh the humor teachers have...
I ultimately went with "A Writer Observed" (based off of "A Grief Observed), for a few reasons - a.) I like Lewis and since the idea was already passed on to my current teacher and made him laugh, it seemed okay to do (he even had some other silly options for me to consider); b.) I really hate thinking of titles and I'm terribly bad at it, so having the work already half done was something I couldn't walk away from; and c.) it felt quite egotistical and awkward to posit my name in the title, so the much simpler "Writer" won out, and this one seemed most fitting for what this collection was actually about. Plus, "Mere Kate-ianity" was always hard for me to say - I kept putting in more syllables and tripping over the whole thing.
I had a great time reading through my old essays and literary analyses, and I appreciated the fact that at one point I was really smart and wrote pretty well. Maybe one day I'll be like that again. Honestly though, I wrote some rather decent essays, if I may say so myself.
My favorite part of re-reading my papers is generally when I come across a line or a thought I remember being really excited to put to incorporate into the piece. Tonight, that came when I was reading an essay we had to write for the Senior Seminar class, pondering on being an authentic person and what that meant, and if we were living authentically. We were given completely free reign to write this however we wanted to, so I wrote it in a segmented form, switching between paragraphs of memories, contemplation, and philosophical theories (it sounds smarter and deeper than it actually probably is). But I got to the point near the end where I'm considering that I sometimes have a tendency of blocking out the parts of me I don't like so that I don't see them, which I then think means that no one else can see them either - kind of a peek-a-boo game like we play with kids, or like when Zach would hide under the covers in our parents' bed and say he wasn't there, because he couldn't see us.
So I'm recognizing that this is a trait I sometimes have, but that it really doesn't work like I think it does. And I draw this great picture when I explain - "My blindness doesn't block those things from others' view; it really just makes everyone else feel bad to see that I'm so oblivious to the hypothetical toilet paper stuck to my foot. It leaves me in the dark of a secret that I started."
The Hypothetical Toilet Paper - GENIUS! A giant grin broke over my face as I read that line, specifically for 2 reasons: a.) it's beautiful imagery, am I right? LOVE IT; and b.) I remembered being so proud of that line when I originally wrote it. I shared it with my friend, gushing with creative excitement and the feeling that I really needed to get some more sleep at night, and he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me. Then he asked if I was actually going to keep that in my paper, and when I said, "of course!" he turned and walked away from me.
It was a long essay with a lot of introspection and thought and research involved, and I felt like that thought breathed new life into the essay and kept it alive through to the end. I think it's great, and I'm already trying to think of what I can use that idea in again to spread the joy and wisdom with others.
I also realized that this wasn't a new thing for me to write something rather odd in the middle of an essay, particularly regarding personal essays. I've found evidence of interesting imagery and 'creative' writing in a lot of my writing - call me adventurous, but I like to push the boundaries when it comes to classy, professional writing. But I will say this - it's never out of place or unthoughtful. At least you can feel confidant that when strange, odd lines come out and into my writing, you can know that I put a lot of thought into expressing myself in such an odd way. I didn't just vomit my thoughts and feeligns haphazardly onto the paper, you know?
At first, I wasn't super excited about the idea, but I had said it could probably work, and we needed a 3rd roommate, so I sucked it up and figured I could at least handle it for a few months and then I could try to sell my contract if needs be. And once we sprayed and killed the bugs that had moved in over the last weekend, I felt much better about it (Note: Chris, that spider really was huge, no exaggeration - I know you were thinking it. My roommate wasn't going to believe me either, until she saw it and agreed that it filled more of the tupperware than one would want to see).
The problem of moving again, though, is that I have to organize again...sigh. So my room is a slight mess - though there's a lot more room for the mess to be in now - but I spent tonight trying to get everything a little bit more settled. As I was moving things around, I picked up some binders I keep close to my bed, wondering where to put them now, and between the binders, I found the book I had to put together for my Senior Writing Seminar class of my favorite writing pieces. So I snuggled into my bed and took some time perusing some of my better papers and essays.
The teacher I had for this class was a huge fan of C.S. Lewis, so when I had to come up with a name for this collection, the teacher I T.A.'ed for tried to help me by thinking of ways we could change Lewis book titles for me. Some of our favorites were "The Problem of Kate" (the original is the Problem of Pain), "The Great Kate" (Divorce), and "The Chronicles of Kate" specifically, "The Lion, The Witch, and the Kate." My teacher's absolute favorite though, was his idea of "Mere Kate-ianity," to play on "Mere Christianity." Oh the humor teachers have...
I ultimately went with "A Writer Observed" (based off of "A Grief Observed), for a few reasons - a.) I like Lewis and since the idea was already passed on to my current teacher and made him laugh, it seemed okay to do (he even had some other silly options for me to consider); b.) I really hate thinking of titles and I'm terribly bad at it, so having the work already half done was something I couldn't walk away from; and c.) it felt quite egotistical and awkward to posit my name in the title, so the much simpler "Writer" won out, and this one seemed most fitting for what this collection was actually about. Plus, "Mere Kate-ianity" was always hard for me to say - I kept putting in more syllables and tripping over the whole thing.
I had a great time reading through my old essays and literary analyses, and I appreciated the fact that at one point I was really smart and wrote pretty well. Maybe one day I'll be like that again. Honestly though, I wrote some rather decent essays, if I may say so myself.
My favorite part of re-reading my papers is generally when I come across a line or a thought I remember being really excited to put to incorporate into the piece. Tonight, that came when I was reading an essay we had to write for the Senior Seminar class, pondering on being an authentic person and what that meant, and if we were living authentically. We were given completely free reign to write this however we wanted to, so I wrote it in a segmented form, switching between paragraphs of memories, contemplation, and philosophical theories (it sounds smarter and deeper than it actually probably is). But I got to the point near the end where I'm considering that I sometimes have a tendency of blocking out the parts of me I don't like so that I don't see them, which I then think means that no one else can see them either - kind of a peek-a-boo game like we play with kids, or like when Zach would hide under the covers in our parents' bed and say he wasn't there, because he couldn't see us.
So I'm recognizing that this is a trait I sometimes have, but that it really doesn't work like I think it does. And I draw this great picture when I explain - "My blindness doesn't block those things from others' view; it really just makes everyone else feel bad to see that I'm so oblivious to the hypothetical toilet paper stuck to my foot. It leaves me in the dark of a secret that I started."
The Hypothetical Toilet Paper - GENIUS! A giant grin broke over my face as I read that line, specifically for 2 reasons: a.) it's beautiful imagery, am I right? LOVE IT; and b.) I remembered being so proud of that line when I originally wrote it. I shared it with my friend, gushing with creative excitement and the feeling that I really needed to get some more sleep at night, and he just laughed and rolled his eyes at me. Then he asked if I was actually going to keep that in my paper, and when I said, "of course!" he turned and walked away from me.
It was a long essay with a lot of introspection and thought and research involved, and I felt like that thought breathed new life into the essay and kept it alive through to the end. I think it's great, and I'm already trying to think of what I can use that idea in again to spread the joy and wisdom with others.
I also realized that this wasn't a new thing for me to write something rather odd in the middle of an essay, particularly regarding personal essays. I've found evidence of interesting imagery and 'creative' writing in a lot of my writing - call me adventurous, but I like to push the boundaries when it comes to classy, professional writing. But I will say this - it's never out of place or unthoughtful. At least you can feel confidant that when strange, odd lines come out and into my writing, you can know that I put a lot of thought into expressing myself in such an odd way. I didn't just vomit my thoughts and feeligns haphazardly onto the paper, you know?
Thursday, October 14, 2010
RAIN!
Today I went for a run in the pouring rain. It was a BLAST!
Let the record state that it was not pouring when I left. It was drizzling a little when I got ready to go, raining a little harder when I actually left. Nothing I couldn't handly.
Two minutes later - torrential downpour.
The rain calmed down a very little bit a few minutes later, but then it poured even harder about 5 minutes later. And I was smiling and laughing the whole time! Best morning ever!
Luckily, I recognized that my normal running mix would not be suitable for a rainy day, so I quickly made the switch on my shuffle from upbeat, bouncy music to the laid-back, chill, perfect-for-a-rainy-day Joshua Radin and his sweet new album. I've been in love with this boy and his voice for the last 2 years, and I was so excited to find out he had a new album out! It was like he knew I would want to go running in a rainstorm soon, so he busted out some great songs for me to enjoy the beautifully wet morning. Thanks, Joshua, I appreciate knowing you've been thinking of me, too.
Honestly though, it was a fun time out there. I used to hate running in the rain during cross-country in high school, but I've decided it had more to do with a lack of good wet-weather running clothes. I was a little better dressed today. And aside from having to wring out my hood and the cuffs of my sleeves once or twice, I was barely hindered by the rain. Except for the giant puddles I had to dodge...and sometimes fail at dodging...oops. It kind of reminded me of the Urbanathlon my sister-in-law Laura suggested we all run next year - I was jumping over obstacles and avoiding holes and puddles. At one point I passed a parked car and considered practicing my running over taxis right then.
But I decided against it. After a long debate regarding the pros and cons of jumping on and running over the parked car, I realized I'd already run past it, so it wasn't possible anymore, anyway. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.
Moral of the Story: Go find a rainy day to enjoy, and bring Joshua Radin along for the party. You'll be smiling before you know it!
Let the record state that it was not pouring when I left. It was drizzling a little when I got ready to go, raining a little harder when I actually left. Nothing I couldn't handly.
Two minutes later - torrential downpour.
The rain calmed down a very little bit a few minutes later, but then it poured even harder about 5 minutes later. And I was smiling and laughing the whole time! Best morning ever!
Luckily, I recognized that my normal running mix would not be suitable for a rainy day, so I quickly made the switch on my shuffle from upbeat, bouncy music to the laid-back, chill, perfect-for-a-rainy-day Joshua Radin and his sweet new album. I've been in love with this boy and his voice for the last 2 years, and I was so excited to find out he had a new album out! It was like he knew I would want to go running in a rainstorm soon, so he busted out some great songs for me to enjoy the beautifully wet morning. Thanks, Joshua, I appreciate knowing you've been thinking of me, too.
Honestly though, it was a fun time out there. I used to hate running in the rain during cross-country in high school, but I've decided it had more to do with a lack of good wet-weather running clothes. I was a little better dressed today. And aside from having to wring out my hood and the cuffs of my sleeves once or twice, I was barely hindered by the rain. Except for the giant puddles I had to dodge...and sometimes fail at dodging...oops. It kind of reminded me of the Urbanathlon my sister-in-law Laura suggested we all run next year - I was jumping over obstacles and avoiding holes and puddles. At one point I passed a parked car and considered practicing my running over taxis right then.
But I decided against it. After a long debate regarding the pros and cons of jumping on and running over the parked car, I realized I'd already run past it, so it wasn't possible anymore, anyway. Oh well. Maybe tomorrow.
Moral of the Story: Go find a rainy day to enjoy, and bring Joshua Radin along for the party. You'll be smiling before you know it!
Interesting Thoughts for an Interesting Wednesday
I feel really important when I'm walking down a hallway of marble stone, and the click-clacking of my heels echoes down the corridor. Because only important people wear shoes that make such loud, important noises to let everyone know that someone important is coming.
Boys who wear shirts with the sleeves cut off will always gross me out. But when a boy at least has the sense to work out so his arms are worth showing off, then I mind the ugly shirt a little less. Call me a teenage girl, but boys still steal my focus, particularly when I'm sitting on the Metro.
Speaking of the Metro, I thoroughly enjoyed the chart I saw on the Metro tonight, showing the varying degrees of odor. Only one was good; the remaining went from unpleasant to malodorous to putrid. At first, I didn't see that it was actually an ad from Dove, and I was impressed with the Metro's forward-thinking public service announcement to be thoughtful and not smell bad. But then I realized Dove had created the ad - well-played, Dove, talk about appealing to the audience at hand. I just hope more people take the message to heart...
It's a little embarrassing when you're the one living in DC, and your friend is just visiting, and you have to call her for directions to the restaurant you picked to meet her at for dinner.
Giant spider in the hallway outside my room = not okay. And by giant, I mean GIANT. Exaggeration is non-existent here. I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, far away from my room.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm here. It's usually at night, when I'm restless before I go to sleep. I get a little anxious. Particularly when there's a giant spider, or some other giant bug, in or near my bedroom. But then I somehow fall asleep and I'm all better in the morning.
I'm still not sure how "The Nanny" was ever a hit show...or how I still watched it when I was younger, knowing it was annoying. Or how I'm not running out of the room, screaming right now, while my roommate watches it. That nasally voice has some sort of addictive chemical, I know it.
I should not write blog posts late at night. It's too hard to focus. Especially with such a nasally voice distracting me with silly quips and obnoxious laughter. Maybe, just maybe, if I turn her off, that drilling voice will eventually clear out of my eardrums...
Boys who wear shirts with the sleeves cut off will always gross me out. But when a boy at least has the sense to work out so his arms are worth showing off, then I mind the ugly shirt a little less. Call me a teenage girl, but boys still steal my focus, particularly when I'm sitting on the Metro.
Speaking of the Metro, I thoroughly enjoyed the chart I saw on the Metro tonight, showing the varying degrees of odor. Only one was good; the remaining went from unpleasant to malodorous to putrid. At first, I didn't see that it was actually an ad from Dove, and I was impressed with the Metro's forward-thinking public service announcement to be thoughtful and not smell bad. But then I realized Dove had created the ad - well-played, Dove, talk about appealing to the audience at hand. I just hope more people take the message to heart...
It's a little embarrassing when you're the one living in DC, and your friend is just visiting, and you have to call her for directions to the restaurant you picked to meet her at for dinner.
Giant spider in the hallway outside my room = not okay. And by giant, I mean GIANT. Exaggeration is non-existent here. I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, far away from my room.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm here. It's usually at night, when I'm restless before I go to sleep. I get a little anxious. Particularly when there's a giant spider, or some other giant bug, in or near my bedroom. But then I somehow fall asleep and I'm all better in the morning.
I'm still not sure how "The Nanny" was ever a hit show...or how I still watched it when I was younger, knowing it was annoying. Or how I'm not running out of the room, screaming right now, while my roommate watches it. That nasally voice has some sort of addictive chemical, I know it.
I should not write blog posts late at night. It's too hard to focus. Especially with such a nasally voice distracting me with silly quips and obnoxious laughter. Maybe, just maybe, if I turn her off, that drilling voice will eventually clear out of my eardrums...
Monday, October 11, 2010
Bob the Odd-Looking Dog
So my roommate, Erika, bought a dog. This dog made it to our home Friday night. It's a beagle/bassethound mix, which is apparently called a bagle. Bob (pronounced with a slight Canadian accent) is a shelter dog, having been found on the side of the road somewhere, half-starving and dehydrated, with another dog in even worse shape. Adopting pets from a shelter is a great thing to do, since they're in need of a good home and some love from good people. I knew this already, but last Tuesday's Oprah enforced this truth on me, and I felt really good about E getting Bob the dog. I felt like we were doing some good in the world, saving this dog from sorrow and loneliness.
But Bob was not suffering just from sorrow and loneliness. No, it would seem that Bob is quite a basket case of physical suffering. I think almsot every night, E told me of something new she learned from the lady at the shelter in the last week or so before she went to pick him up. First it was just that he had to get neutered before he came, so the poor guy was going to be pretty dull and sad at first. No big deal. Then we found out
that he had fleas, but the lady was getting rid of them. He'd be flea-less when he got here. OK. But Bob didn't really take to the medicine for the fleas, or the stitches from his latest job. So he's all red from scratching at himself, and he bit away at his skin and fur in a strip near the end of his back. Cool, Bob.
But it will heal eventually, if he stops scratching, and the cone that he wore for a few days was supposed to help. It didn't really, but it definitely added to the picture of this messed-up dog coming to our home soon.
Then the shelter lady wasn't sure if he was house-trained or what from his past life, so we had no idea if he'd be relieving himself all over our floors or if we could leave him alone safely. Thankfully, the lady tested his bladder control skills over the weekend, and he didn't have any problems in her house. Hopefully it'd be the same here. Problem potentiall solved.
So all of this could be dealt with. He'd be fine. But then we hear that a big German Shepherd had thought Bob was getting to close to his fence, so he bit half of Bob's right ear off. Right off, halfway up his ear. Awesome.
So now, Bob the half-eaten Bagle (as his foster mom affectionately called him) is loping around our house, a sort of sad, nerdy cuteness wafting off him. This long-bodied, stubby-legged mess of a dog is stinking up our home, waiting for when he can get a bath. He's officially free of fleas, thank goodness, and now he's wearing something resembling ankle weights around his neck to keep him from biting at his stitches and hair-stripped flesh.
Honestly, have you heard of a more problem-prone, pathetic-sounding dog? Probably, but I've never personally experienced one like Bob here. We'll see how this goes. All I know is my room has been permanently shut off from Bob - apparently he's a hoarder and a chewer, meaning he will first steal my shoe and hide it in his corner, then systematically chew through the shoe until it is utterly unrecognizable.
Awesome.
UPDATE: Erika's dad was here doing some work on the house this weekend. Though my door is always closed, Erika's dad had to come in while I was at church, to get into the attic through my closet. It would seem that Bob followed him in and then left at some point, taking a token to remember me by. Erika brought down the shorts I wore to bed last night (which were old and ugly, luckily), complete with a fresh hole on one side. Nice job, Bob. You owe me a new pair of shorts.
But Bob was not suffering just from sorrow and loneliness. No, it would seem that Bob is quite a basket case of physical suffering. I think almsot every night, E told me of something new she learned from the lady at the shelter in the last week or so before she went to pick him up. First it was just that he had to get neutered before he came, so the poor guy was going to be pretty dull and sad at first. No big deal. Then we found out
that he had fleas, but the lady was getting rid of them. He'd be flea-less when he got here. OK. But Bob didn't really take to the medicine for the fleas, or the stitches from his latest job. So he's all red from scratching at himself, and he bit away at his skin and fur in a strip near the end of his back. Cool, Bob.
But it will heal eventually, if he stops scratching, and the cone that he wore for a few days was supposed to help. It didn't really, but it definitely added to the picture of this messed-up dog coming to our home soon.
Then the shelter lady wasn't sure if he was house-trained or what from his past life, so we had no idea if he'd be relieving himself all over our floors or if we could leave him alone safely. Thankfully, the lady tested his bladder control skills over the weekend, and he didn't have any problems in her house. Hopefully it'd be the same here. Problem potentiall solved.
So all of this could be dealt with. He'd be fine. But then we hear that a big German Shepherd had thought Bob was getting to close to his fence, so he bit half of Bob's right ear off. Right off, halfway up his ear. Awesome.
So now, Bob the half-eaten Bagle (as his foster mom affectionately called him) is loping around our house, a sort of sad, nerdy cuteness wafting off him. This long-bodied, stubby-legged mess of a dog is stinking up our home, waiting for when he can get a bath. He's officially free of fleas, thank goodness, and now he's wearing something resembling ankle weights around his neck to keep him from biting at his stitches and hair-stripped flesh.
Honestly, have you heard of a more problem-prone, pathetic-sounding dog? Probably, but I've never personally experienced one like Bob here. We'll see how this goes. All I know is my room has been permanently shut off from Bob - apparently he's a hoarder and a chewer, meaning he will first steal my shoe and hide it in his corner, then systematically chew through the shoe until it is utterly unrecognizable.
Awesome.
UPDATE: Erika's dad was here doing some work on the house this weekend. Though my door is always closed, Erika's dad had to come in while I was at church, to get into the attic through my closet. It would seem that Bob followed him in and then left at some point, taking a token to remember me by. Erika brought down the shorts I wore to bed last night (which were old and ugly, luckily), complete with a fresh hole on one side. Nice job, Bob. You owe me a new pair of shorts.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Do we have festivals because we love apples? Or do we love apples because we have festivals?
My parents have taught me much over the years. Even in the 18 months of living with them before I moved, I realized they still had some good lessons in them. The ones that stick out most in my memory:
We left Friday night, and 2 hours later we pulled up to E's grandparents' home, where her grandma, "Ma," had prepared a lavish feast reminiscent of the Pilgrims' first Thanksgiving. After we'd stuffed ourselves full 3 servings later, we made it to E's parents' home, where the stars outside were gorgeous, sitting in the sky just out of arm's reach. Pennsylvania's beautiful, and we could recognzie this even without seeing much of it that night.
Saturday was Festival day. After a short outing to E's niece's soccer game, we made our way to a smaller, local apple festival, where E made a scarecrow for our porch, and I enjoyed a local bluegrass band play some rather excellent music. "Ma" and I danced to their foot-tappin' beats while her husband, Grandpa, teased her for her silliness. Ah, grandparents, how wonderful and similar they all are. Per Berkley's request, I've included some pictures, since I finally had the memory to take some:
- There IS, in fact, a right way to load the dishwasher. Anyone who says it doesn't matter how the utensils get loaded is lying to you.
- Retirement is the bomb. I can't wait to get there someday.
- It's important to be careful when you leave a door to your home open, even for just 30 seconds. You never know when a quail or 2 will decide to come visit. That was a lesson M&D taught by showing me firsthand.
- Whenever there's an opportunity to take a trip or have an adventure, take it. Might as well, right?
We left Friday night, and 2 hours later we pulled up to E's grandparents' home, where her grandma, "Ma," had prepared a lavish feast reminiscent of the Pilgrims' first Thanksgiving. After we'd stuffed ourselves full 3 servings later, we made it to E's parents' home, where the stars outside were gorgeous, sitting in the sky just out of arm's reach. Pennsylvania's beautiful, and we could recognzie this even without seeing much of it that night.
Saturday was Festival day. After a short outing to E's niece's soccer game, we made our way to a smaller, local apple festival, where E made a scarecrow for our porch, and I enjoyed a local bluegrass band play some rather excellent music. "Ma" and I danced to their foot-tappin' beats while her husband, Grandpa, teased her for her silliness. Ah, grandparents, how wonderful and similar they all are. Per Berkley's request, I've included some pictures, since I finally had the memory to take some:
(The truck was just a really cool, old red truck we saw. Turns out, the boy with the rattail was not the only boy there with one - his twin brother had one, too, of course. I was sad I hadn't seen them together before...And they were not the only ones with such luscious locks; I saw a good amount of well-groomed mullets as well. I loved this giant tractor wheel, so I took a glamour shot or 2 in it. The Boro Boogie Pickers were really good, and the girl had a great voice. Plus, she was near-perfect on the washerboard she was playing. The 4 of us with Billy Bob the scarecrow, in/on the previously mentioned tractor wheel.)
This mini festival was just a warm-up for the National Apple Harvest Festival we went to after. The NAHF opened that weekend, opened again the following weekend, and then closed shop. So we made it for the opening day, and it. was. AWESOME! I've never seem so many apple products all in one place before. On our way there, we stopped at Mr. Ed's fudge shop and Elephant Museum, which was a strange place, but had some great fudge. He is apparently a legend around those parts. When we made it to the NAHF, I went to get a soft pretzel, and lo, there was Mr. Ed himself right in front of us! We met him, and I actually was a little creeped out by him, but I tried to brush that aside and move on. We left the festival with arms overflowing with apple products, mostly purchased by Erika and Mike, to satiate their thirst for apples.
(Me with Miss Ellie the Elephant, Mike enjoying Mr. Ed's Homemade Fudge - turns out, it's as good as their faces express. Us with Mr. Ed, the Elephant Museum man himself. His head was a little too close to mine for comfort, and the unbutton shirt showing off his white chest hair and gold Elephant charm necklace were all grounds for the discomfort he caused me. Us leaving the Festival, ladened with savory apple goods.)
The NAHF was no Walworth County Fair, but it was still memorable in it's own right - even if it didn't have any deep-fried candy bars or spinny rides that make you throw up said deep-fried delights.
We followed the festivities up with a movie and then called it a night. We were tackling Gettysburg the next day, and we needed our rest.
In Gettysburg, we got the audio tour for our car and explored the place accompanied by the sultry voice of the Gettysburg Audio Tour Narrator. First off, the place is beautiful. We had a perfect day there, with the sunshine to show off the beauties of the land, and a slight, crisp breeze to welcome in Autumn. As far as the history lesson, I have to admit that not a lot of new information stuck with me. I recalled a lot of the basics I learned in History class, and I incorporated a lot of historical facts from some other neighboring wars (namely, the French-Indian War and the Spanish-American War) with the intent of morphing them into Civil War history. I was excited to see the "Barlow Knoll" and I tried to listen to the Narrator explain that part, but all I really got was that Gen. Barlow was young, something was wrong about where they were stationed, the soldiers got scared and fled, Barlow tried to get them to come back, Barlow was wounded, and the whole situation was relatively bad. Sounded like a great place.
But I did enjoy Gettysburg, even if I subconsciously tuned the Narrator out while he hastened to teach us facts of our beloved country's near self-destruction. But it was quickly overshadowed by the impressive store that is Boyd's Bears. This ridiculous 3-story red barn, dedicated to all things bear and American Country, was rather impressive in its exhausting quaintness. I imagined small, rural homes all around the neighboring countryside decorated in over-priced, disgustingly cute tchotchkes of bears and vegetable-shaped animals. It seemed to be a booming business, though, and so I salute them for what they've accomplished. May they and their bears continue to be prosperous.
After such a finale, all that was left was to go home. I was sad to return to a home with no large yard of sprawling hills, no farmland to care for, no apples to eat. But then Erika and I remembered the pie we brought home, and the home-grown memories came rolling back with each bite of sweet apple pie.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
My New Digs
So I've been meaning to put up pictures of my new landing spot for a little while, but I was having troubles getting it organized in a way I enjoy. But I remember my lessons from the School of Barlow:
*Please note, I give most of color scheme credit to super sister-in-law, Jodi, who helped me out mucho before coming out here. Thank goodness for good taste and patience :).
This is the site you walk into (sorry, it was really sunny when I tried to take this picture - that's a dark brown dresser on the side). My bedspread is really lovely, with a cool pattern of light blue, light green, cream, and touches of lavendar and dark green. I found the picture above the dresser at Kohls almost right after purchasing the spread at Marshalls and I almost died, the colors and pattern were almost a perfect match! And the flowers on my table are wood, and really pretty. Those are probably my two favorites accents to the room.
This is the other wall, with the door to my room. Yes, I do realize that crocheted Elephant (that's what's in the frame) doesn't match my color scheme at all, and it definitely too small for that wall. It's currently a very temporary, undersized fix to my indecision about what to do there. My eventual plan is to take a lot of my pictures and get some cheap salvation army frames (or make some) and make a sort of sophisticated wall collage. We'll see when that actually happens, although I've started gathering my pictures of choice together, as though it might actually happen soon...ish... Also, that blue bookshelf thing? That was a find from my first week at church. We were walking out and the poor thing was sitting in the hall with a sign, "Please Take Me." I felt so bad for it, sitting all by itself, lonely and sad, and I needed something to hold my stuff, so I made this boy from our carpool carry it out the car for me. It's a work in progress, but perhaps one day it will be something beautiful. For now, I'm content with it being something functional.
This bedside table gets an honorable mention. It's potentially my favorite item of furniture ever. I saw it at Marshalls and really liked it - it was a steal, too! - but the color was this darkish, kelly green, which I didn't know how to make work with the bedspread Jodi found that I was loving more every minute. Being the balloon full of talent she is, Jodi explained how quick and easy it would be to paint it and maybe even distress it a little and give it some character. I think of those ideas, but I never know how to get the ambition to make it work - and to actually do it. Turns out, Chris and Jodi's bedroom walls match my spread exactly, so we took the leftover paint and painted over the green, then sanded the newly light blue table where we wanted the stain to stand out, and then lightly stained it brown. The result was a table of weather light blue, that looked like it had been in the family for awhile. The stain and the effect of the dark green that came out a little in the sanded areas look great, and I'm so pleased with this table that I helped bring to life. It was a great feeling. I still get giddy about it when I look at it!
This is my new, makeshift garbage can. There's not much of a good place here for a garbage can, but I needed something, so I took my hairdryer's box and converted it into one. Not gonna lie, I was really impressed with my creativity and innovation on this one. It's amazing what you can do with stuff just laying around your room. Maybe if I ever come across some paint, I'll paint the box, but for now, I think it works perfectly as is, tucked away in the corner.
Speaking of using what you got, this room is pretty small, and it's rather filled up already with furniture. My closet is super duper tiny, and the floor is filled with boxes and shoes, so I had no idea where I could possibly put a laundry bag/basket. BUT, I happened to have brought 3 ottomans/storage containers, and one was still empty, so I decided to use it as my laundry basket for now. It's hidden away so my laundry isn't in anyone's face, and the basket is functional as my seat for doing my hair and makeup (my bathroom's very tiny as well, so nothing fits in there...). I can be rather creative when I need to be.
Finally, I gave this a shoutout just because I really love it. This picture sits on my bedside table, in front of my lamp and wood-shaved flowers. The frame was given to me by my good friend Carly Roberts during our middle school years and says, "Friends...are for sharing." This picture is 1 of 4 pictures Ben, Abby, and I took at a photo booth in the mall, just before Ben went on his mission to Brazil, back in the day. I love, love, love this picture, and I've taken it with me everywhere I've moved in the last few years. Thanks for good memories, family, I owe you all a lot for making me the photogenic girl I am today.
So that's my new place. Or at least, my new room. Or, what's done of it. I still have a shelf and a decorative metal thing with hooks to hang on the walls, but it's basically done, as far as I'm concered for the moment. The rest of the place? Well, you'll just have to come visit me and see it all for yourself.
- Lesson 237: If you're going out of town, make sure the house is clean. At least, have your bed made, so in case you die, the police who come to your home later won't think you're a slob. You don't want to be judged poorly post mortem because you didn't make your bed.
*Please note, I give most of color scheme credit to super sister-in-law, Jodi, who helped me out mucho before coming out here. Thank goodness for good taste and patience :).
So that's my new place. Or at least, my new room. Or, what's done of it. I still have a shelf and a decorative metal thing with hooks to hang on the walls, but it's basically done, as far as I'm concered for the moment. The rest of the place? Well, you'll just have to come visit me and see it all for yourself.
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