Sunday, October 30, 2005

Some old Pictures

Well-e, well-e, well-e--lookie what I've found. A picture of my buddy Clark. Hm. It is ac tually amazing, the number of pictures I've taken in which people are flipping me off. I ought to start a special photo album some day.

I just wanted to jot down some thoughts on the MA program--mostly for me (so I can look back one day and be amused. Or bemused). I had been feeling down about the whole program ("Was it rigerous enough? Would I be able to find a job? Would I be qualified to find a job? Was I getting the right training?") so I went and spoke to one the professors about it. Not only did she make me feel better about the program (she told me that one of the reasons she came to SU was because of the MA in TESOL program) but she told me that, in both of the classes I was taking with her, I had scored the highest on the tests and that she was very pleased with my progress. Then she said that she thought I could finish in a year and a half. TUrns out I only need 33 credits. She said that she would be willing to do an independant study with me to get me through quicker. I told her that I wanted to do some research, try to get published.

So now I'm thinking about this research thing. I have some rough ideas in my head right now. Judging from the studies I've seen, I don't think it would be too difficult to get something published. I want to do something on using music to teach English to illiterate adults. Thing is, it would be difficult to set up, it would be difficult to control, and it would be difficult to test. I mean, how do you measure acheivement in illiterate adults? You can't give them a test. I suppose some type of oral exam would work. THere has been a lot of research in using music to teach vocabulary, but I want to go beyone that. From what I've read, music and language are processed in some of the same parts of the brain. I want to know if I can use music to activate the language centers. But that might be too complicated. For all I know, I would need a brain lab to conduct that type of experiment. Hmm. Maybe I can seduce a brain surgeon. Yeah, probably not. I just wish I could find some more hard-core scientific information about the brain and how it processes language and music. Especially music. I've been looking and I just don't have anything. All I can find are a bunch of namby-pamby educational theories about using music to stimulate relaxation and thus promote learning. Eh. I want a more scientific base as a starting point.

But what I really need to be doing right now is focusing on my classwork. I still have my Field Observation to write. ANd I've got a "culture casework" project for my Sociolinguistics class (I'm going to study the Ozarks. Again. Hell, it's interesting stuff--if my relatives can deal with me following them around with a tape-recorder and a camera over Thanksgiving break). ANd I still have to do my big paper for my linguistics class. Ehh. Some chapter critique-lesson plan-
analysis sort of thing. And then there is the project for my Ed Reasearch class...

Still, at least I don't have three things due every week (like I did during the month of October). Hopefully I will have some time to relax in November (or at least some time to work on various projects). Oh, then there is the little matter of my disolving French. ANd that whole learning Spanish thing. Oh. And the Oboe, demanding mistress that she (it? he?) is. (I still don't know if my Oboe has a gender. Probably best not to ask.) Ehh, and exercising (which I skipped all last week because I was fighting a cold. But now no more excuses. Well, except for the fact that my knees are crap. So unfair. I mean, if I am going to have crap knees, why can't I be skinny and not have to exercise?)

Anyway, Mom's friend Kathy asked me if I was writing everything down. I assured her that I was, although I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to read it. She asked me if I ever wrote fiction. Hell no. I can't write. And I know that I can't write. I am perfectly comfortable having won one poetry contest (1999 Cochise)--and that was just because everyone else really sucked. I was probably competing against 11 year olds. Anyway, once someone has passed the age of 21, he or she should (at the very least) give up on writing poetry. (At the very most he or she should give up all writing). It is a very self-centered thing, writing is. I mean, first you have to believe that someone would actually want to read what you have to say. Hm. That is why I was so dead set against the idea of 'blogs at first. Then I started on. And then I just couldn't stop. Dreadful addiction. Ho hum.

Anyway, here is my prize-winning ($35) poem. Just for shits and giggles:

Creation holds a different rein
smiling from a box of Cracker Jacks.
My, how the mind melts sweet on the tongue
memories, like a taste of cotton candy--
the past is sweeter now than before.
All those years we thought we were different
growing through a semi-sort of childhood
rearing up to find us facing ourselves
a casual caricature of lifesprung like a prize from the bottom of the box.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Found the child bride:

Yeah, so what the hell am I talking about...
The child bride--of course! This goes back to the Pig Farmer, the Goober, and my crushed dreams of marrying a Russian hottie. Anyway, on a lark, I looked up Yarilo (the Russian Ensemble) on the internet. And did you know that there is a mail-order bride agency named Yarilo? Anyway, I found the group's homepage and immediately looked for pictures of the child bride. And here she is. And you all thought I was joking. Wait until I find pictures of Hoda (of the famous "Hoda down and hose 'er off" joke).

I know I promised that I would not post again until I had something funny to say. Well, this is funny. For me. And I'm probably the only one who will appreciate it. The Pig Farmer! Makes me laugh to this very day.

Meanwhile, I am sick. Must be getting close to Christmas time. At least it's not African dysentery this time. So I'm spending the weekend in. Though I need to decide it I want to chance it tomorrow night. I've been invited to a Halloween party. If I go I will need a costume. Shit. I'm thinking about picking up a curly, black wig and going as a fortune teller. Hmm.

So, I had a doctor's appointment Thursday morning. The VA has a clinic in Cambridge (about 30 miles from me) and, as I am transferring my care there, I had to go in for an initial check-up. And man, that doctor was nothing if not thorough. She looked at my ears, up my nose, and in my eyes. She informed me that I had snot all the way to my ears (though not in so many words) and told me she would put in a prescription for some Flonase. Then she listened to my lungs and pointed out the odd mole I have on my back:
"What is this? Have you had this looked at? Has anyone told you what this is?"
"Uhh, I had someone look at it about ten years ago. I was told that it is a halo, which is unusual on someone my age."
"Hmm," she said, "I'm going to send you to a dermatologist. Oh, you have more here. And some blemishes, which is probably because your cholesterol is high. High cholesterol can cause skin problems."
"Uhh, sure, okay."
"So less fried food. No more fast food."
"Yeah, actually, I-"
"Bread, rice, pasta-"
"Oh yeah! I eat a lot of that!"
"All bad."
And so it went. She pricked the bottom of my feet (to check for feeling) and wanted to know why I had such thick calluses. Did I go barefoot a lot? She checked my knees, and then informed that they were crap and that I should take it easy with the exercise because I was too young to have knee problems. Then she checked my breasts and told me I had lumpy breasts and that I needed a mamogram.
I left her office feeling somewhat dazed. I now have appointments to have blood drawn, to have a mamogram, to go to the women's health clinic, and to see a Psychiatrist (this last one I'm not looking forward to. I've had good experiences with the VA doctors and nurses, but the mental health care has, for the most part, been crap). She wants to check my cholesterol again and also check my thyroid. (Both my Mom and my Grandmother are convinced that there is something wrong with my thyroid, even though I had it checked when I was in the Army.) So.

In the past month I've had two people ask me if I am a Christian. Not in a conversion kind of way though. Very odd.

Hmm. And that is my life up to this point. I'm currently trying to decide if I want to read Stanley and Campbell or if I want to stick to Sherlock Holmes. Maybe I will save the Campbell and Stanley for when I am bored out of my mind in Ed Research. Yeah, I think that sounds like a plan.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Banned Books

The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990–2001

Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

The Giver by Lois Lowry
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous

Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
The Goats by Brock Cole
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel

Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)

Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell

Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Jack by A.M. Homes
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Carrie by Stephen King
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume

On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene

Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

I was just browsing through the internet (doing research on a project) and I found this list. I was surprised because I've actually read quite a few of these books--most of them before I finished middle school (not like I was doing any schoolwork in middle school--huge waste of time that it was). I figured I'd steal the list and put it on my 'blog--just to amuse myself. (But if you are all nice to me, I may put up more pictures of French men. It was a calender so I've got 11 other pictures). Anyway, no banned books in my immediate future. Too much school work to catch up on. Yeesh.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

How Disappointing!

Well, I was looking through some old 'blog entries and I discovered something. They were really funny. I was laughing out loud and I wrote the stuff. That should make me happy; instead, it has made me realize that my more recent entries are lacking in humor. I no longer have nasty showers, mutant flies, completely dis-organized schools... I no longer live in a middle/high school with roomies from around the world. I no longer have insane amounts of free time with which to compose humerous anecdotes or travel to distant lands. In short, I have become, once again, a very boring person.

And, as a boring person, I really don't need a 'blog.

Therefore, I am suspending my 'blog activity--at least until I have something clever or humerous or amusing to say.

And so, mes amis, I leave you with a picture that one of the students at the IUFM de Valence just sent me. Sweet Dreams.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Life getting back to normal. Finally.

Well, things have been crazy for the past few weeks but it is all starting to settle down now. Well, except for the mid-term today and the presentation and the field report tomorrow. I'm in the writing center, feeling unloved, resented, and unwelcome. Sigh. When I worked at the UMBC writing center I felt so... I don't know. Not unloved. I had thought that working at another writing center would put me in contact with the same type of people--you know, super smart and hardworking, friendly, talkative (ready to discuss grammar issues with me)... but everyone here is about as friendly as... wet eels. Bleh. I can understand the initial resentment--I mean, I was thrust upon this fledgling writing center by the English department--but I had thought that once these people got to know me they would become a little more open and friendly. Nope. (Or maybe the problem is that they did get to know me... sheesh.) Oh well. Je m'en fou, franchement.

And I'm forgetting all my French. Damn and double damn. And merdre. I started to write an e-mail in French to mes amies and I got about two sentences in when I realized that I was back to the level of see spot run. How depressing. How frustrating. How annoying. But I am hoping that, with the frantic month of October almost over (and with it, my ten zillion projects and papers completed and turned it) I can start working on French again. And maybe write some oh-so-humorous letters to my friends (but not oh-so-humorous because my language use is so embarrassingly awful).

I've also solved the problem of where to engage in reed-making. Mom's office! She offered her office to me--something I have a feeling she will regret in a coupld of weeks. I'm planning on running over to the music department today to see if I can get someone to bless me with a practice room. I figure all I need to do is say the magic word, oboe, and doors will, as they say, open for me. And I need to figure out how to avoid getting stuck in the wind ensamble (read: band). Every place I go, someone always tries to stick me in the band. But it is never called a band--it is always a wind ensamble. I've played in wayyyy to many "wind ensambles" in my life. I know the literature. Holst, Grainger, Vaghn-Williams--I've played it all. No, what I want is an Orchestra. A GOOD orchestra. One that plays Sibelius, Stravinsky, Schtakovich, and yes, even some Mozart and Beethoven. I don't have anywhere enough orchestra experience. And once I get back into the swing of things, I may check out some smaller ensambles (though, in general, I really don't like woodwind quartet/quintet music). But first I need to get myself a practice room so I can start playing again.

Friday, October 14, 2005

You're in the Army Now...

Ha! This is a picture of me demonstrating how I would use the oboe to defend myself. This was back at the USAESOM (US Army Element School of Music... or, as we called it, the US School of Matrimony, as it seemed that everyone got married to everyone else... and then got divorced a few years later.)

One of my favorites:

This is one of the very, very few pictures of myself that I like (I'm actually not sure where the others are. But they were all taken before I turned 21). This was taken when I was in the USAESOM (United States Army Element School of Music) in Norfolk, VA. Gosh, that was back in 1997. I went to a park with a friend and we meandered around, taking pictures.

Stumbling down memory lane...

This may well be thoe only picture of me in BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform). Notice how nice and pressed they are--and how shiny the boots are. This picture was probably taken around my 19th birthday... I would have been a sophomore in College if I had done that. Instead, by the time this picture was taken, I had already spent a year in the Army. The person next to me is my Maternal Grandmother, with who I share a birthday. Seeing this picture really makes me aware how much her health has... changed since then. Oh, and the car behind me? I still have it!

Look what I found:

Ewwww... who is that disgusting looking person? That is actually me--almost ten years ago. This picture was taken right after I graduated high school. I think I maybe weighed 100 pounds... maybe. Looking at this picture makes me want to go eat.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

More Biology

Q: How do you homogenize a chicken breast?

A: Put it in a blender. Duh.

Is my sister still alive?

To answer my own question, I'm pretty sure that she is. I didn't even realize that New Hampshire was hit by severe flooding until the GPs (GrandParents) called to see if the young'un was okay. (In my defense, I've been very busy lately... though not too busy for the occasional 'blog). The LS (little sister) was living in New Hampshire last I spoke to her, though she was supposed to move to MD (duh on that one--you get no help from me if you don't know it) a few weeks ago. She is currently MIA, but I'm not too concerned. I figure the police will eventually call us if she's floating around in a morgue somewhere.

Anyway, I'm in a crappy mood today. I think I need to take a nap. Then go for a walk. Then take another nap. Then eat some caramel popcorn. Then go to bed. Goodnight.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Pain, pain, and more pain.

I've just discovered something infinitely more painful than bamboo shoots under fingernails (not that I would technically know about that, but I did send a sewing maching needle through my finger once and this new experience is way more painful than that). I call it Two Hours of Korean Cell Biology Lab Report Torture. I've just spent the past two hours trying to help a Korean speaking student write the results section of a 300 level Biology report.

My greatest acheivement in science is getting a C in Physics. When I did take Biology--in the 9th grade, over ten years ago--I may have squeaked by on a D. I don't remember. I'm pretty sure I passed it. Still, all I know about Mitochrondia comes from reading Madeleine L'Engle--in elementary school. There is a definite reason that I'm in the Humanities. All I know about Biology is that at some point in time I descended from a ape and that it really hurts when you put a needle through your finger (but not as much as science reports hurt).

And this poor student. I was trying really, really, really hard to not let my frustration show... and not to bleed on her notebook because I was digging my nails into my hands. I just kept thinking about all the various tortures that POWs must have gone through at the hands of tiny little Asians during some of the past few wars. Now, now, I've just gone overboard. I've said some very mean cultural things and devalued the experiences of POWs. I don't really mean what I just said (the bit before the devaluing part.) I'm just venting my frustrations by employing a bit of overexaggeration. RIght. S'all.

Meanwhile, I feel dirty. Like I have little cauliflour mitochrondia cooties crawling all over me. I may never be able to eat another vegetable again. Well, not one that has anything to do with DCIP and BSA and Asseys and graduated cylinders. WTF-evah! Like, OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!! How R U??????????????? IM FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! K TTYL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday, October 09, 2005

My trip to the O.C.

By O.C. I mean Ocean City, Maryland, of course. I know it looks like it was dreary, but it was a very relaxing trip to the beach. My friend Shari decided to take last Friday off and drive to Salisbury to visit me. We decided to go down to the beach. It was windy and a little drizzly but not very cold. We meandered along the boardwalk, stopped in a store and found a stash of used books (we wound up going through the "young adult" books: "Oh! I remember reading this one! Did you ever read this? And so on.) We played some skee-ball and Shari learned why I am the self-proclaimed Skee-ball Champion (not because I am any good but because I have an uncanny ability to pick machines that dispense more tickets than they ought to.) Shari took her 27 tickets and I took my 92 tickets (told you) and we each passed them on to some kids (although I picked a Soccer Mom who assured me that her three blond Aryians were saving up for an angel). Shari and I had lemonade, walked out on a pier, took our shoes off to walk along the sand... all in all, a very relaxing day--something that I really needed. I hd though that I would be stressing about not doing any school work all day, but I managed to, well, not completely forget, but not care for the day.

Anyway, I brought my bike back from Baltimore today. I plan on doing some riding... after I get the thing in shape. Everything out here is flat. Should make for some good riding.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Le Sigh...

I just got an e-mail from Lena, my Russian roommate at Camille Vernet (France). She has returned to CV and is living in Natalia's (the Argentinian--remember her?) old room. Alessia (the Italian) is in Paris this year.

So now I am feeling all wistful. Lena wrote that CV is just not the same without us. I can't believe that I miss living in that Middle/High school, but... well, it was in France. And I was actually quite fond of Valence--even though I would never admit it to the others. So here I am, on this damp and stinky Eastern Shore, dreaming of France and Venise and Morocco. Yeesh. I still get e-mails from SNCF, the French train system. Today I received one that was offering 20E specials between Valence and Paris and also between Lyon and Toulouse. But I'm stuck in the Writing Center--when I don't exactly feel welcome--typing about distant places on a very slow computer. I'm stuck eating mushy bread and super sugary yoghurt.

How pathetic am I? Exactly one year ago I was in France. I was confused and overwhelmed (though at this point I actually knew where I was going to be living) and stressed and constantly exhausted. And I'm already thinking about how soon I can hop on a plane and go explore some new place. Not over Thanksgiving--I'm going to Missouri then. Christmas is in Illinois. So next summar. China? Or Backpacking through Europe (which I would do if I could convince someone to go with me. Guys? Anyone?). Or stay here and work and take a class or two so I can finish with this MA earlier.

Anyway, I've really got to get started on this whole Spanish thing. I keep telling myself that I will make some flashcards. Though, to be fair, I have been somewhat busy lately. But I've currently run out of things to do. I am ready for my presentation next week, I have finished my first field report, and I have mostly completed my David Nunan presentation. I've done the reading and homework for tonight... and I don't have any of my other books with me right now. I hardly know what to do with myself... except look at train fares in France... I wonder how much a plane to Ireland would cost...

I still haven't heard from Jo. Jo! If you are reading my 'blog, say something! Joh! Joh! Ca Va? Tout va bien en Angleterre?

Bleh. Now I am just killing time. Three more hours until my class starts. Three more hours of sitting in the writing center waiting for ESL students. I don't have any appointments so I doubt that anyone will show up. Not this late on a Thursday.

Okay. Happy thoughts. Maybe I ought to switch the music on my I-Pod to something happier. Hmmm.... Carmina Burana? Sparticus? Keane is good, but not the most cheerful sounding music out there. I could listen to some of my awful French music--remind myself about the more negative things about my stay there.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005


Wa-hoo! I finally got the money from my French bank account! It only took me, let's see, six months. Though, to be fair, August shouldn't really count because nobody in France works the entire month.

Ah. I feel better.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Conversion to Pure Evil

Well, it is official. I have gone over to the side of pure evil. Yes, it is true: I am creating a PowerPoint slide show.

Why, you may ask, this sudden change of heart? Why have I abondoned all that is good and holy? Why have I debased myself, sunk to the level of clipart and soundbites?

For the same reason as many other people. PowerPoint presentations impress my professor. I also have absolutely no content and need to cover that little fact up. Enter the wonderful world of Microsoft's PowerPoint. I am now able to expand about five sentences of notes into a ten minute presentation with seven slides. I am carefully crafting each and every slide, adding backgrounds and borders and clipart and animations to draw the eye away from the pitiful lack of content.

I feel so dirty.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Some Pictures

Maryland Renaissance Festival

So. Went to the MD Renn Fest today--I missed it last year so it had actually been two years. I went with Mom and Elizabeth (Mom and I tried to get her to change her name to Darcy for the day, as it seems that everyone named Darcy winds up at the Renn Fest--she wasn't going for it though...) Anyway, it was nice to see some folks--and they all remembered me! Zenobia, the fortune teller, still does 5 dollar potato chip readings every pirate weekend. (Based on this dream I had about three years ago... or was it four... anyway, in the dream I was feeding potato chips into a computer to have my fortune told. Anyway, Zenobia was asking me for details about my dream and I was like, uhhhh... something about potato chips and computers?) Stopped by HMT, saw little d. He shaved his Rasputin beard, thank FSM. Shari, Rob, and John-Michael were there... I swear, I felt like the Belle of the Ball--Miss Socialite!

School has been insanely busy. I have some major project due just about every day in October. Yech. I've been going into an Elementary school to observe the ESL teacher. Kids. Whatever. Yeesh.

Tutoring is going well. The students seem to like me--may have to put a stop to that. Some of them like me so much that they've come in four times already. I get to the point where I'm like "Give me the damn paper already--I'll write it for you." But I smile and encourage and coax...

Oh--and on the way back from Annapolis (this is back to today now) we stopped at McDonalds for a drink, and I saw Abigail's poster! So my cousin is famous now--her poster has been up from Alaska to Maryland. I got a picture--I will post it (and some others) as soon as I get off my lazy ass...

Other than all that, not much to report. Going to the MD Renn Fest made me miss Canada a little--mostly the folks at the Ontario Renn Fest. The vibe up there seemed mellower. Anyway, I need to figure out how to get up to Canada again... I'd like to see Bill and Brenda... and I still want to get to Quebec City. Hmm, I wonder how D'Arcy is doing... I wonder if Bill and Brenda have kept in touch with her. I need to send her an e-mail.

All in all I've had a good weekend. TIme for me to get a shower (and wash Renn Dust out---you know, I had Renn Dust in the wrinkles under my eyes--bleh), do some homework (or sit in front of the computer and pretend to do some homework... and really do some jigsaw puzzles), and get to sleep.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Hymns to the FSM

All Things
(With apologies to Cecil F. Alexander)
All things bold and booty-full,
All pirates tanned and tall,
All things new and noodle-full,
Our Monster made them all.

One hook He gave us, sharpened;
One eye clad in a patch;
We heeded not His warning:
"Be careful when ye scratch!"

Repeat Chorus

The urge to seek adventure,
The tattered treasure chart,
The lure o' bounteous baubles
That pump a pirate's heart.

Repeat Chorus

The wide blue ocean freedom,
The tang of salty air,
The rum imbued with courage,
Spaghetti placed it there.

Repeat Chorus

Each saucy buxom maiden
Each winsome comely tart
And lust with which to woo 'em
His noodle doth impart.

Repeat Chorus

The slapping of the rigging,
The endless lonely sea,
That strapping young midshipman
When weeks from port we be.

Repeat Chorus

He gave us swaggering heroes
With rapier repartee,
And moody brooding shipping:
Spaghettiness adds squee!

Organ swells for final chorus:

All things bold and booty-full,
All pirates tanned and tall,
All things new and noodle-full,
Our Monster made them all.