Thursday, February 14
Man, I want friends like Liz H…'s got web-type friends. Six of her last seven posts have at least eight thoughts thus far.
Happy Valentine's Day, as Ben just said on the air. I'm really feeling the love this year. I love the mass of traditions that cluster around this time of year, and the memories they bring back about this time last year; figuring out the way things must have happened by the order of events - the valentines auction, sophomore paper time, screw, Math 9 paper due dates.
Today I have to read a whole of the anthrostuff that I only got through the first hundred pages or so of on Tuesday despite reading pretty much all day. It was enjoyable, but I wasn't really focusing on it, especially when Nori and Alison Adelman were here and livelily discussing in the kitchen the mango lassi they were making. I'd taken care of the rest of the tilapia for dinner (marinated in tempur? dipping sauce), so I didn't take part in the Indian meal (except I had a bit of lassi.) Then I went to practice, and to make a radio show flyer in McCabe: scanned in an i-zone smooch photo and photoshopped in the text: "Reality is Lubricated…a special Valentine's Day broadcast" "listen in as Ross & Alyssa declare their undying love on the air" and the frequency and time. I really like the way it came out, grainy but with neatly delineated composition. The overwhelming response: kawai! (as Alyssa wrote on my stomach last night, a reprise of the star-bellied sneetch episode, now a bit worn) There are now about ten flyers around campus. Alyssa wonders if single people will be embittered by the flyer or the show, but I think that's sort of the lot of such-minded singles this time of year anyway. Unsuccessful in contacting either A to confirm her approval or Stefanie to take our long-awaited chat date (as I had been all day), I stopped by the triplet to see what was kicking. Brigid was asleep, but she claims only napping, in the middle of an Induction paper, and she flopped upright and told me not to leave. On the subject of Babblebook's elusive, contentless proclamation, which she hadn't seen, she was stumped. If there are exciting new developments for some member of the Willet's octet (the should-have-been Loveless girls mach two), it's not her; clearly not those other two (or Kara) - and Ester isn't as far as anyone knows close friends with any of the other four. So we dunno what all the fuss is about.
Stefanie was equally confused when I asked her about it yesterday morning, as we walked to Target in a most unorthodox way (starting off past the DuPont parking lot, down a residential hillside, back by roads nearly to the barn). But she did oblige with a capsule history of StefeLiz (Ester's coinage, decidedly awkward) which was more than I'd been able to piece together elsewhere. A further mystery is why neither Target nor Genuardi's carried any Valentines chocolate boxes on 13 February! (I had to go to Hallmark across the street and find a tacky little Russell Stover box that I later doctored up a bit with Becca's label-maker; oh, I miss the Nut House) Also, Target doesn't carry (apparently) jacks, which I've been looking for since Christmas eve, and which I thought would make a nice v-day gift for my gal. The camera batteries I bought there turned out to be the wrong size (durnit durnit), so the only worthwhile purchase was three three-packs of 120 minute tapes. The only ones they had were funky purple Sonys that come with space-age "Slipcases." That brought me back here in time to chat with the hallway-cleaner about the building and the college, and to catch some more good radio - the end of Ben Wharton's alt-country "Dorks of Hazzard" and the start of Karl Heideck's non-folk, non-country (despite the schedule) hip-hop/Prince side-project "On-Air Drinking Contest" (earlier I'd heard a 6th Great Lake/Smiths/Morrissey broadcast and the start of a bluegrass show with some non-objectionable Nickel Creek), before my lesson. The lesson was equally good - MarcanTony seemed impressed with my preparation of scales and Bach and Bartok; hopefully it can stay that way when I only have a week to prepare (he missed last week.) After the language lab work (shortened by a sound-file mix-up), and a run-in with smallwood, I barely beat Alyssa back here to hide the choclets, then had little energy to do more than start some Hindi phrase-structure diagrams for ling hw. I heated up some Sarah B's that had arrived from Delia in the morning, and one of them squirted its deceptively fluid insides on Alyssa's pink sweater, continuing a string of unfortunate liquid emergencies that started when I woke up in the morning with an inexplicable bloody nose. African was excellent, in the way of those classes that are not super-intense, just average, but really enjoyable on their own terms. R. Charles let me solo for a while over a 'square' rumba-family rhythm, and we traded stick-tricks before the patakato. II was typical but atypically extreme in its mixture of movement that I can do really well and jam on, and movement that I just can't wrap my mind or body around. But it was fun. I stopped up to WSRN to plaster a flyer up there and chat with Lonesome Monarch Rae about whether love songs should be played/sung without irony. Back here, some tasty avacado gunk and vegan chocolate pudding. I sat on the couch and tried to complete the multi-part ling as neatly as possible while listening to Rae's blues, ska/punk, the New Porno's, the Weezer happy hour, and my roommates crafting clever valentines (Rebecca's trademark cutesy neatness, Nori's Klimt und label-maker assemblages, Joel's minimalist construction-paper triptych to Sara.) And of course a bit of Philo. Only the first three pages seemed to contain much discussable material, the other seven were kind of unapproachable metaphysical descriptions of afterlives.
And we didn't even mention that part this morning, after I woke up and slipped the box onto alyssa's semi-sleeping shoulder. I've been able to get up and out fairly easy for this 8:30, and once I get there I have no difficulty at all staying awake for the discussion. Today's was particularly animated, with Schuldenfrei obsessing with a detail of an marginally workable snow-fire-soul analogy, challenging us to provide an example of a culture that doesn't treat broken bones, pacing and gesturing and quipping "in religion they called it the reformation; in philosophy they called it Descartes." I spoke up a lot more than usual (as I did in Syntax and French as well, sounding smart.) Put some more radio flyers around Kohlberg and made two commissions from the SCW love-poem people, one jointly with Michelle for Joel-o (rhymed and metrical, with or without reference to a certain dyslexic Italian danseuse) and one dedicated to WSRN, the only radio station for me (stipulations: must be FCC-appropriate; half the verses should come from the playlist; only the first four words of the title count). I received two valentines through campus mail, from Jocelyn and Mark, which is so touchingly predictable. Now I better go see how my apple/munster/spinach/vinnaigrette sandwich turned out, and read some o' that anthropology.
i can never place
the name with the face
Happy Valentine's Day, as Ben just said on the air. I'm really feeling the love this year. I love the mass of traditions that cluster around this time of year, and the memories they bring back about this time last year; figuring out the way things must have happened by the order of events - the valentines auction, sophomore paper time, screw, Math 9 paper due dates.
Today I have to read a whole of the anthrostuff that I only got through the first hundred pages or so of on Tuesday despite reading pretty much all day. It was enjoyable, but I wasn't really focusing on it, especially when Nori and Alison Adelman were here and livelily discussing in the kitchen the mango lassi they were making. I'd taken care of the rest of the tilapia for dinner (marinated in tempur? dipping sauce), so I didn't take part in the Indian meal (except I had a bit of lassi.) Then I went to practice, and to make a radio show flyer in McCabe: scanned in an i-zone smooch photo and photoshopped in the text: "Reality is Lubricated…a special Valentine's Day broadcast" "listen in as Ross & Alyssa declare their undying love on the air" and the frequency and time. I really like the way it came out, grainy but with neatly delineated composition. The overwhelming response: kawai! (as Alyssa wrote on my stomach last night, a reprise of the star-bellied sneetch episode, now a bit worn) There are now about ten flyers around campus. Alyssa wonders if single people will be embittered by the flyer or the show, but I think that's sort of the lot of such-minded singles this time of year anyway. Unsuccessful in contacting either A to confirm her approval or Stefanie to take our long-awaited chat date (as I had been all day), I stopped by the triplet to see what was kicking. Brigid was asleep, but she claims only napping, in the middle of an Induction paper, and she flopped upright and told me not to leave. On the subject of Babblebook's elusive, contentless proclamation, which she hadn't seen, she was stumped. If there are exciting new developments for some member of the Willet's octet (the should-have-been Loveless girls mach two), it's not her; clearly not those other two (or Kara) - and Ester isn't as far as anyone knows close friends with any of the other four. So we dunno what all the fuss is about.
Stefanie was equally confused when I asked her about it yesterday morning, as we walked to Target in a most unorthodox way (starting off past the DuPont parking lot, down a residential hillside, back by roads nearly to the barn). But she did oblige with a capsule history of StefeLiz (Ester's coinage, decidedly awkward) which was more than I'd been able to piece together elsewhere. A further mystery is why neither Target nor Genuardi's carried any Valentines chocolate boxes on 13 February! (I had to go to Hallmark across the street and find a tacky little Russell Stover box that I later doctored up a bit with Becca's label-maker; oh, I miss the Nut House) Also, Target doesn't carry (apparently) jacks, which I've been looking for since Christmas eve, and which I thought would make a nice v-day gift for my gal. The camera batteries I bought there turned out to be the wrong size (durnit durnit), so the only worthwhile purchase was three three-packs of 120 minute tapes. The only ones they had were funky purple Sonys that come with space-age "Slipcases." That brought me back here in time to chat with the hallway-cleaner about the building and the college, and to catch some more good radio - the end of Ben Wharton's alt-country "Dorks of Hazzard" and the start of Karl Heideck's non-folk, non-country (despite the schedule) hip-hop/Prince side-project "On-Air Drinking Contest" (earlier I'd heard a 6th Great Lake/Smiths/Morrissey broadcast and the start of a bluegrass show with some non-objectionable Nickel Creek), before my lesson. The lesson was equally good - MarcanTony seemed impressed with my preparation of scales and Bach and Bartok; hopefully it can stay that way when I only have a week to prepare (he missed last week.) After the language lab work (shortened by a sound-file mix-up), and a run-in with smallwood, I barely beat Alyssa back here to hide the choclets, then had little energy to do more than start some Hindi phrase-structure diagrams for ling hw. I heated up some Sarah B's that had arrived from Delia in the morning, and one of them squirted its deceptively fluid insides on Alyssa's pink sweater, continuing a string of unfortunate liquid emergencies that started when I woke up in the morning with an inexplicable bloody nose. African was excellent, in the way of those classes that are not super-intense, just average, but really enjoyable on their own terms. R. Charles let me solo for a while over a 'square' rumba-family rhythm, and we traded stick-tricks before the patakato. II was typical but atypically extreme in its mixture of movement that I can do really well and jam on, and movement that I just can't wrap my mind or body around. But it was fun. I stopped up to WSRN to plaster a flyer up there and chat with Lonesome Monarch Rae about whether love songs should be played/sung without irony. Back here, some tasty avacado gunk and vegan chocolate pudding. I sat on the couch and tried to complete the multi-part ling as neatly as possible while listening to Rae's blues, ska/punk, the New Porno's, the Weezer happy hour, and my roommates crafting clever valentines (Rebecca's trademark cutesy neatness, Nori's Klimt und label-maker assemblages, Joel's minimalist construction-paper triptych to Sara.) And of course a bit of Philo. Only the first three pages seemed to contain much discussable material, the other seven were kind of unapproachable metaphysical descriptions of afterlives.
And we didn't even mention that part this morning, after I woke up and slipped the box onto alyssa's semi-sleeping shoulder. I've been able to get up and out fairly easy for this 8:30, and once I get there I have no difficulty at all staying awake for the discussion. Today's was particularly animated, with Schuldenfrei obsessing with a detail of an marginally workable snow-fire-soul analogy, challenging us to provide an example of a culture that doesn't treat broken bones, pacing and gesturing and quipping "in religion they called it the reformation; in philosophy they called it Descartes." I spoke up a lot more than usual (as I did in Syntax and French as well, sounding smart.) Put some more radio flyers around Kohlberg and made two commissions from the SCW love-poem people, one jointly with Michelle for Joel-o (rhymed and metrical, with or without reference to a certain dyslexic Italian danseuse) and one dedicated to WSRN, the only radio station for me (stipulations: must be FCC-appropriate; half the verses should come from the playlist; only the first four words of the title count). I received two valentines through campus mail, from Jocelyn and Mark, which is so touchingly predictable. Now I better go see how my apple/munster/spinach/vinnaigrette sandwich turned out, and read some o' that anthropology.
i can never place
the name with the face
