The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

Guess who was at the mens' basketball game yesterday? We're in the Hamptons, so think rich and famous. Okay, now think Laura Faris. Lastly, think NYPD Blue. Yes, my friends, Jimmy Smitts' son palys basketball at Southampton College and the man himself was at the game. Unfortunately I was not there, but Tanya, who was, says that she got a picture. I was going to say something about Jimmy Smitts' birthday, but I don't think I could have explained why that was funny. Maybe I should start going to the basketball games.
P.S. I just checked my e-mail and Dr. Gottfried wrote to me--in response to an e-mail I sent in late November. Does that sound like Dr. G. to you Amy? She has tenure now and she's shopping her novel around. Dr. Foys, that lovely man, is teaching some interesting medieval lit classes. She said nothing about Sandona. I wonder if he's still there. Anyway, news of Hood is always nice.

No, Amy, that just means that I love you. However, I did get the package just now from the post office. The paper is very cute. I can see a pet collage forming as we speak. My walls will be pretty. If there is another surprise, I will have to find it later. I stayed in my room just long enought to open the box and put the muffins in the fridge. I don't even know what kind of muffins they are--I just saw the outlines against the foil. Sonia had her door open and was yelling at someone on the phone, and after being at work for three hours and then class for another three, I just wanted to be someplace nice without a woman hollering about real estate.
So, thanks Amy for being so nice and so lovely.
On the menu for this foray into cyber-space, I was just informed by my advanced fiction professor that there is a jitney that goes from Southampton to Boston, so all my woes about buses and trains could be taken care of for a mere $60. I'll have to look into that.

I was just reading demagogue and imagine my surprise when I glanced to the left and saw that my blog is one of the forty or fifty links on the page. I think I might have made one comment long, long, ago, about nothing in particular except that I liked the site. Whoa be to all who enter this blog expecting some kind of coherent analysis, of, well, anything relevant.
Anyway, Tracy is going to the mountains of Vermont today to test her will-power (also for vacation). If she doesn't kill her boyfriend, she will pass. She sent me a link while we were chatting and it looks like a great place--indoor pool, jacuzzi, outdoor pool (useless because it's Vermont in winter) pleasently furnished rooms. Actually, the picture of the jacuzzi caused a wonderful conversation involving the word "cesspool" that rivals both "Sarah, what's peen?" and "I am in love with Andy McDowell." Good times. I'll be home in two weeks.
My project of the moment is to make new signs for a few different departments using word art and clip art. I think they're for those academic fair-type-deals where students wander around and generally look confused. I have to keep reminding myself that I am not being graded on my artwork and that it's a frickin' paper sign! It doesn't have to be perfect. I spent over an hour on a sign for the Seamester program and then scrapped everything and put a big sailboat smack-dab in the middle. Must . . . stop . . . anal . . . tendencies, must . . . forget . . . three semesters . . . of . . . art.

I've been a rather inconsistent blogger lately. It's mostly that a) I have nothing interesting to say other than complaining about work, or rather, the lack of work, or b) I feel like bitching about Bush, but that's like preaching to the choir. There is nothing new to say about that ass-hat that you all don't know already. I wish I was going to Frederick with you guys. How cool is that going to be? I never thought that I would pine away for that place, but Southampton is seriously dullsville unless you're a multi-millionaire or have a license. My pine-scented longing also extends to Salem. I miss the hell of Tracy. We had some good times over winter break and a lot of good food. She knows how to do it. Mom's gonna be in Vegas, though, so I won't see her until May. Let's hope she doesn't go nuts and gamble away all of her tax refund on roulette. Mom's a sensible lady, but she loves the online gaming. Who knows what she'll do with the real thing.

From Demagogue:

It's Official

President Bush has endorsed the Federal Marriage Amendment. He makes two basic claims: (1) marriages between persons of opposite sexes are such important building blocks of society and so good for children that they must be preserved in the Constitution; and (2) the people must be heard on this issue, rather than "activist courts."

My office is unalterably hot. There are no windows. I try to air it out by opening the door and turning on the vent, but no luck. I guess I'll just have to pretend that I'm typing labels in the other office all day.

I feel very menstrual today. To use Kirsten's metaphor, I'm on my moon. My moon is full and shining bright. I've been really hot all day long, and having to sit through a workshop on my story just made me sweat even more.
You know what I noticed? Richard Dean Anderson's hair was completely double-O C, or OOC, or Out Of Control. It wasn't even a mullet--it was full-on Hockey Hair, like he should have been a man named Guy (pronounced "ghee") Bergeron who only wore Wheels jerseys and ate ham steaks smothered in brown sugar and maple syrup. Actually, in the episode of MacGyver that I saw today it was like a bowl-cut screwed a mullet up the wrong shoot and then the mutant offspsring tried to nurse on his skull. His eyebrows were all kinds of messed up as well.
But the first channel I turned on today after class was Spike. I have a video of a Highlander convention that I got for free with whatever it was that I asked for for Christmas that year and there were these crazy people, crazy women actually (hmmm...a show full of drop-dead-gorgeous men who often end up shirtless and sweaty, and have beautiful, poetic, yet ill-fated relationships with equally beautiful women while wearing dashing period costumes, has a large and loyal female following? Who'd've guessed?) who formed Highlander clubs called "Clans" since at least once every episode Duncan whips out his sword from the back of his pants or wherever he's hiding it that day and says "I'm Duncan MacCleod of the Clan MacCleod." Some of them say that they're in "Clan Denial" about things. The most common thing is that they categorically deny that Duncan killed Richie. Taking off from that, some of them just pretend that all of the last season (season six ) never even happened. The first time I saw that I was like, "these ladies need help." However, having seen season six several times now in reruns, it kinda makes sense. It was such a great show. I didn't even mind that Richie was dead. But then season six became an audition for the woman who would helm the Highlander spin-off. Every single episode goes something like--Guest Star Woman has vendetta to fulfill, Duncan has moral objections, they argue, they screw, the problem is resolved. It's a different woman and a different vendetta every time, and yet all the episodes just bleed into one. And then they ignored all those women and made a spin-off with Elizabeth Gracen who had been on the show since season one. Oh, to think of what could have been . . .
Don't even get me started on the movie

Oh, Tracy, I remember the day your mother brought that video home. Weren't there a lot of people in the living room? At least more than you, me, and your mom. How old were we? The thing I remember most is you crying and carrying on at the very beginning where ET is being chased by those government dudes. You kept saying, "There gonna kill ET!" and I was trying to tell you, "If they kill ET now, then what's the rest of the movie going to be about?" But you wouldn't listen. I bet you have some kind of trauma from that. I bet I have some kind of trauma from that. Maybe that's why I hate ET now.

You're The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe!

by C.S. Lewis

You were just looking for some decent clothes when everything changed
quite dramatically. For the better or for the worse, it is still hard to tell. Now it
seems like winter will never end and you feel cursed. Soon there will be an epic
struggle between two forces in your life and you are very concerned about a betrayal
that could turn the balance. If this makes it sound like you're re-enacting Christian
theological events, that may or may not be coincidence. When in doubt, put your trust
in zoo animals.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I'm sitting here in my office, all by myself (praise Buddha) and I start reading the new posts on Demagogue. I come to a post about the weddings in San Francisco and click the link which takes me to a whole bunch of photos of the weddings taking place in city hall. I get a little misty because it's so sweet. And then I get to a photo with a bunch of little kids standing around two men with a caption underneth that goes:

Below is a class from El Dorado Elementary School who requested a special viewing of the marriages. Jim Illig, officiator, brought the male couple up the stairs and into his second-floor-landing area, then introduced the couple to the kids...explained how long they'd been together and why they were here...and then performed the ceremony.......

So I started crying and hoping to god that Alice wasn't going to come in to grab a diet Pepsi out of the fridge. How embarrassing would that be? Anyway, the pictures are wonderful. There are people handing out wedding cake to the couples and couples holding their children while they get married. I wish I was there to see it. The best is the picture of a gay couple getting married, each with an infant in a baby-carrier strapped to their fronts. If legally sanctioned marriage is about protecting families, then that's what it's doing in San Francisco.

Found this as a signature on a message board:
I have a riddle for you. A conundrum, if you will. What's the difference between you and a mallard with a cold? One's a sick duck ... I can't remember the rest but your mother's a whore."- Sean Connery

Fun memories of Celebrity Jeopardy on SNL. I miss Laura.

Yes, Amy, I did receive your Valentines. I picked up my mail after class on Monday and opened them up on the walk back to my dorm with a big doofy smile on my face. The card was, in fact, pretty, and your handwriting was 87% less deplorable than usual, so it was easily read. Very sweet. It made me happy. But the beaver? It actually took me a moment to figure that one out, especially because I didn't see the "Found your beaver"(wtf?) message written on the inside of the envelope at first. It is now taped to the wall next to my door. I sent you an e-mail to let you know that I got it, but I noticed yesterday that yahoo didn't want to send it to you. So, I got them. And, thank you. I love you too.

It snowed here last night, maybe two inches at the most. I was woken up at 6:45 this morning by someone shoveling the balcony right outside my window. There is no need for this. When it snows the balcony gets half-covered at most with a dusting of snow. A dusting. Nothing that can't wait to be taken care of until after 8. But he kept on scraping and scraping with that shovel, so finally around 7:30 I gave up and took my shower.

There are some very messed up things about the email at this school. Perhaps it's not the email's fault, though. Fer instance, today I had to send a message to Deb Ward, who works in the chancellor's office. On Outlook, I can press a button next to the "To:" section and type in her name and get her address. I went through all of the D names, including Debbie, Debra, and Deborah, but she was nowhere to be found. As it turns out, Deb is short for her middle name. In the system, she's known as Laverne D. Ward. There are several people like that, who go by different names, or have different married names, but no one changes them in the system. The best one so far has been Mary Koval. I came across her name last semester but I couldn't find her anywhere on campus. I found out that she goes by her middle name, Elizabeth, but shortens it to Beth. To top that off, she got married and her last name is now Albert. So to everyone she's Beth Albert, but to the email she's still Mary Koval. And that is why my life is sometimes hard.

I am a computer genius. Okay, not so much, but I was about to talk to Alice about getting me a new mouse when I figured out all by myself that the ball probably just had to be cleaned. And it did. So I cleaned it. There was a hair wrapped around it that was causing it to stop about three pixels before whatever it was that I wanted to click on. What will I fix next? The Deficit? World Hunger? George Bush's grammar?

So, I'm kinda sorta obsessed with this song by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs called Maps. I think I've heard it one-and-a-half times. I watched a lot of tv this weekend. A lot. Way more than the maximum daily dosage for a Sarah, and Sarahs can survive pretty massive overdoses of the boob tube. I kept switching in between the three music channels, MTV, MTV2, and another channel called Fuse that actually just plays music videos. I was like wtf? MTV2 is playing Cribs? Baaaad music television station. Anyway, I learned two things--1.) Rock/Pop music mostly sucks. Well, I actually already knew that. How else can one explain the rise of Nickelback? And 2.)These stations play the same twenty videos every day in the exact same order. And not a Yeah, nor a Yeah, nor even a Yeah in sight. But plenty of Hillary Duff. Oh, the humanity! They were on Video Clash Test, but they were up against No Doubt, so of course people voted for the "It's My Life" video even though MTV was going to play it ten more times that day whether they voted for it or not. I need to start downloading music.

They cancelled Angel!!!

Everyone click on my demagogue link and see a picture of the 80-year-old lesbians who got married in San Francisco the other day. So sweet!

This was one of the exercises I did for my Finding Your Voice class last Monday. Everyone started with this line--
Hi. Just called to say that I think we should stop seeing each other for a while–say forever? and we all took it wherever we wanted to go. My direction was--
It’s like, you’re Batman and I’m Superman, right? It’s like, you’re dark and brooding and covered in black vinyl. And me, I’m just a big Boy Scout in happy blue tights. Boy Scouts aren’t supposed to do what we do! And I don’t care what you say—you seduced me. I'd never even been with a guy before. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but you sucked me down into your twisty little world, with your techno music and your leather bars. You said that costume was just for the convention. We were never supposed to see each other again and if I could go back in time and make it so, I would. If I were Kirk and we were in City on the Edge of Forever, you would so be pavement pizza. So that's it. Don't call, don't write, and if you pass by me in San Diego next month, just keep on walking. It's over.

The vegetarian soup is always written in green. Always! And it's always the top choice, as black bean soup was today. So I was like, mmmm, tasty black bean soup, what a treat! I bought it and brought it back to the office and soaked a roll in it, and had thoughts of eating it for dinner, too. Then when I dug in with the spoon I found, oh horror of horrors, ham. Lots and lots of ham. So I just ate a bag of cheez-its to console myself.
Earlier today I bought Lolita off of Amazon because we have to read it for my film class, for about four dollars less than the bookstore. And, just because I can, I also bought the Iron Giant dvd. I predict warm and fuzzy feelings when it arrives.

I just spent about an hour looking up names in the mainframe to see if students from these files from 1999 are still attending the school. Turns out, we're just going to toss the files anyway. At least I had some work to do for a while. I felt really productive.
I had the most wonderful nap yesterday. My bed was all warm and comfy and I didn't ever want to get up, but I had class and dinner and such. Today I am refreshed and ready to take on massive amounts of recycling because the file boxes in the closet go back to '93 and Alice seems to have the spring cleaning bug.

Okay, so Bush is a Methodist? How did I not know this? I must have blocked it out.

Warning: This post contains semi-graphic material that may not be suitable for Amys, although there is nothing about childbirth, which is what you really have a problem with, right?
I gave blood yesterday, successfully, for the second time. No problem. Just kinda wanted a nap afterward. The only difficulty I had was that no one wanted to stick me with the needle. The first lady took a look at my arms and immediately called another phlebotomist over to take a look. Wha-oh, I thought, she has to call in a specialist. Turns out she wasn't a specialist, so they called another woman over to take a look. They must have felt my arm up five ways to Sunday--blood pressure cuff tight, tighter, off, squeeze your hand into a fist, let go, squeeze--it was like a scavenger hunt to find the largest of my itty-bitty viens, and everyone got a chance to search. By the time they were applying the super-duper-germ-killing-brushy-thing to where they wanted to stick me, the girl who went into the giving area at the same time as I did had her bag almost filled. And I had to pee, people. But after I was all sanitized that was it. I had to wait until I was done. Against my better judgement, I took a look at the needle. It's like a very sharp little trowel, and it was bigger than I remembered. There was a little bit of horrifying, twisty adjustment after it was in my arm, but after that it was smooth sailing. And I checked the box to get a donor card, so maybe I'll finally know my blood type.

My prayer and my answering machine message are written for class. I just have to sneak over to the photocopier and print off 22 or 24 copies of each. Maybe I'll post them later. I'm having a good skin day. I used my Tazorac last night. It dries the hell out of my face in a usually vain attempt to get rid of those little red blotches that come with acne. I left it on a litttle too long and I thought I burned my face, but this morning I have a lovely pink glow. I also found that good skin=good hair, or at least, I was so enthralled with my skin that I didn't really care about my hair.

I had the tv on this morning and I heard a commercial for those pull-up training pants with Buzz Lightyear for boys and Disney Princesses for girls, and I thought, "Oh, great, assign them gender roles before they can add." When I was little, like five or six, I liked She-Ra and Jem and Barbie and some wacked out thing called Lady Lovely Locks. But I also really liked G.I. Joe and He-Man and the Ninja Turtles. And Batman. Batman is still cool. I had Barbies but I never had G.I. Joes You want to know why? Because the tv said that they were for boys, and in my head I figured that it was wrong or weird for girls to ask for them. So I never asked. But I did play with my cousin Brad's action figures. If I had a brother, I would have been all set.

Further into the rant department, I hate those commercials that are trying to save music programs in schools that say, "kids who learn to read music do better at math." I played flute in band for nine years. I still sucked at math. And because I sucked at math, I also sucked at reading complicated time signatures. But that's not the point. Save music programs because music is important. The gratification of being able to play an instrument, and listen to and learn about music, should be just as important as that silly math thing.

create your own visited states map
or check out these Google Hacks.

Utah and Texas were only experienced for about two hours each at the airport, but I was there.

From Demagogue--
The Massachusetts high court just ruled that only full, equal marriage rights for gay couples - rather than civil unions - are constitutional.

Consider the ante on this issue officially upped

Massachusetts does not suck.

Is it a sign of something bad that my left tricep keeps twitching? It twitched all last night through my fiction into film class. Okay, first bad sign--my schedule, and apparently all the other grad student schedules said 6pm, Fine Arts, room 5. The class actually started at 6:25. Second bad sign--the class is two-thirds undergrad, which might not have been such a bad thing at Hood, but there are a lot of silly boys in this class. Third bad sign--we were supposed to watch a movie, "The Third Man," but the tv and vcr were nowhere to be found. So Mr. O'Doherty lectured for a good two-and-a-half hours. He's a lovely old fellow, very intelligent, with the barest hint of an Irish accent, and he's nice to listen to. But he starts talking about a subject, then interjects with an anecdote, which he interrupts with another anecdote, doesn't finish either one, and never comes back to the point he's trying to make. I'm hoping that we watch a movie next class, so his lectures will be cut down to 30 minutes before the movie and 30 after. I'm also hoping that he was so scatterbrained because he was trying t fill up two-and-a-half hours, and not because he's that way generally.

These would be written rants, so there was no opportunity to break out the Jesus Fish on the first day of class. I did, however, write a very lame break-up message left on an answering machine, as per order of the professor, and I already finished the assignment for next week. Twice. We're supposed to write a prayer asking for something very selfish. I wrote two in the style of the 23rd Psalm, one asking not to be caught speeding and the other asking god to keep Angel on the air. Perhaps I shall post them . . .

Hooray!! My jump drive works! And saving my Word Perfect files as Word documents also works. I just printed out my assignment for next week. I wrote it on my lap top and printed in the Queen Anne lab. This is frickin' awesome. Now I don't have to come here and use these hamster powered computers whenever I need to do work. The only drawback is that I haven't gotten any anti-virus software yet, so I won't be using my lap top for internet surfing. Which, actually, is probably a good thing because then I can do my work and not be distracted by, oh say, other people's blogs ferinstance.

I'm back in the swing of things, back at work, back sorting through degree audits and sending them off to their corresponding departments. I was actually social last night. I ate dinner with two undergrad friends of Nicki's, Casey and Tanya who are in no way related but are always mistaken for one another by everyone, and then we went and got Anna and we all went back to Tanya's room to watch The Mummy Returns. It was so very nice to be around people. At times they seem very mature, more mature than we were when we were sophomores, and then they start talking about X-Men and I realize that there is no hope for them. Which is how I like my friends.
My first class is in less than an hour--finding your voice through writing. If the description is accurate, we get to rant. I think I might pull out the Jesus Fish rant. I wonder what kind of reaction that one will get.