Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
You know what are really, really, weird?
puffed by The Reluctant Dragon at 8:21 PM
Monday, October 26, 2009
Today, I sat down at the computer and realized...
That I have been blogging for over a year. It was rather startling.
And I realized that this is only my 250th post. Hmmm...
That doesn't come out quite right. Ah well.
Anyway, I have put up a poll.
My current vocabularily word is SUBLIMATE.
The official definition is:
sublimate (sub' le mait) [limen
To turn aside an instintual, perhaps primitive impulse in favor of a more socially or culturally acceptable activity.
However, I have redefined the word. Here's what it now means:
To suppress the desire to squeeze a brand new tube of toothpaste in the middle. To chose to not eat the first bite out of every apple. Deciding not to hurl the chair you just stubbed your toe on half-way across the room.
In a sense, sublimate means, "Don't anything Ramona Quimby would do."
Sublimating is choosing not to throw the Murder in the Cathedral commentary at the librarian's head because it's the commentary and not the actual play. It means to not bang the keyboard in frustration when the computer deletes the resource page that you've been collecting for the last hour.
Yup. It's been a great Monday.
Enough complaining. You know what I need to do? I need to go write a story about a character who attracts misfortune. Right now. Then, if I can make enough horrid things happen to them, then I will feel better.
After all, didn't Jonathon Swift say, "Nothing is bigger or smaller except by comparision."? So by comparison with this story I am going to write, my little troubles will melt away like, um, er, uh, butter?
Here's a song for you all:
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Two poems too exhilarating to not share:
And what eye hath e'er seen such a sweet Maiden Queen,
As Marian, the pride of the forester's green?
A sweet garden-flower, she blooms in the bower,
Where alone to this hour the wild rose has been:
We hail her in duty the queen of all beauty:
We will live, we will die, by our sweet Maiden queen. Thomas Love Peacock
"A bonny fine maid of noble degree,
Maid Marian called by name,
Did live in the north, of excellent worth,
For she was a gallant dame.
For favour, and face, and beauty most rare,
Queen Helen she did excel;
For Marian then was praised of all men
That did in the country dwell." ~I actually don't know who wrote that. Sorry...
The following are just Marian-ish photos. Thank you Kei!
Photo credit: All of the blurry ones were taken by Bracie (don't worry, she'll readily admit to that. It's all our camera's fault.) and all of the nice ones were taken by Kei.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I may not measure up to the awesomeness of Maid Marian, but at least I can be Lady Cluck.
Just so everyone knows, I have only seen the first season of BBC Robin Hood. The beautiful Lucy Griffiths as Maid Marian- she's brighter, snazzier, smarter, faster, and bigger than Robin Hood! She is gorgeous and amazing and utterly cool, from her incredible fashion sense, to her longbow skills, to her amazing strategic abilities, from her night-watchman mask, to her commanding comportment that inspires all around her.
Can Robin do it? She can do it better! She did it first! After all everybody knows it was really Marian's idea.
No matter what anyone does, she wants to steal the show and do it her way. Not only that, but she must tear everyone down in the process. Constantly, she berates and criticizes Robin, never trying to help.
And the ironic thing? Somehow, despite how annoying she is, Robin manages to continue caring for her. Despite her resemblance to a nagging fishwife, she manages to steal his heart. Is anyone else sensing an inconsistency? Is that a realistic relationship?
How is everyone able to see past her faults? I don't understand. To me, it seems as though everyone is so impressed by the external Marian that they cannot look at her internal character.
Not only is she flawed, she is annoying! Being flawed is a universally shared characteristic, but it isn't necessary to be annoying.
Ephesians 4:28 makes this important applicable command:
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.
I did not hear Lucy's Marian say anything that built anyone up in the entire first season. Nothing about her character is sweet or beautiful.
Robin Hood is not meant to be uxorious!
Don't get me wrong: I would love to have her archery skills or her amazing clothes or whatever, but her pride and sharp tongue leave much to be desired.
I would love to hear that she curbs her critical spirit. I would love to hear about her encouraging someone. Please comment and tell me she reforms!
PS: And my other complaints about BBC Robin Hood:
The Merry Men were not Merry. Nor were they charming. Or witty. =P
“And these will strike for England,
And man and maid be free
To foil and spoil the tyrant
Beneath the greenwood tree.” Tennyson, The Foresters
“Robin lay happily with his head in Marian’s lap. She sat between the roots
of the lime tree, clad in a one piece smock of green girded with a quiver of
arrows and her feet and arms were bare. She had let down the brown shining
waterfall, which was usually kept braided for convience in hunting and cookery,
and with the falling waves of this she framed his head. She was singing a duet
with him softly, and tickling the end of his nose with the fine hairs…
[the two boys, Kay and Art go with the Merry Men on an adventure]
The boys had felt disgruntled at first, at being put in a woman’s band. They would have preferred to have gone with Robin, and thought that being put under Marian was like being trusted to a governess. They soon found their mistake.
It was not easy to be a companion of hers. In the first place, it was impossible to keep up with her unless she waited for them-she could move on all fours or even wriggle
like a snake almost as quickly as they could walk- and in the second place she
was an accomplished soldier which they were not. She was a true Weyve-except for
her long hair, which most of the female outlaws of those days used to clip. One
of the bits of advice which she gave them before talking had to be stopped was
this: Aim high when you shoot in battle, rather than low. A low arrow strikes
the ground, a high one may kill in the second rank.
“If I am made to get married,” thought the Wart, who had doubts on the subject, “I will marry a girl like this: a kind of golden vixen.”
As a matter of fact, though the boys did not know it, Marian could hoot like an owl by blowing into her fists, or whistle a shrill blast between tongue and teeth with the fingers in the corner of the mouth; could bring all the birds to her by imitating their calls and understand much of their small language; could hit the popinjay twice for every three times of Robin’s; and could turn cartwheels. But none of these accomplishments were necessary at the moment.”
Friday, October 23, 2009
The long-awaited weekend has arrived! And here, to kick off a series of posts concerning Maid Marian!
To me, the great, distinguishing aspect of the story of Maid Marian is that she was always by his side. Not a heroine who limps and flutters in the background, nor one who must dominate the scene and depend only on herself, but a supporting, strong, remarkable, amazing woman with utmost devotion to her beloved.
Here is an amazing quote from Thomas Love Peacock's Maid Marian:
“May I never again have roof but the blue sky, nor canopy but the
green leaves, nor barrier but the forest-bounds; with the foresters to my
train, Little John to my page, Friar Tuck to my ghostly adviser, and Robin
Hood to my liege lord. I am no longer lady Matilda Fitzwater, of Arlingford
Castle, but plain Maid Marian, of Sherwood Forest."
"Long live Maid Marian!" re-echoed the foresters…
Thursday, October 22, 2009
And it never came back.
I think I's is gettin' progressively dumber. The other day, I spent a half and hour just throwing small pine cones at the road from 100 feet in the air. (I was up in a tree)
Just today, I put my shoe on th wrong foot.
When I put a jar of OLIVES! back in the fridge, I absentmindedly set the container on top of the milk carton. ??? They, of course didn't like being set atop the shaky milk carton and hurtled toward the ground.
Where is my brain?
On the way to my speech club, there is a huge billboard with a picture of a girl holding a green laptop. As we drove by it in the pouring rain, I thought to myself:
"She ought to come out of the rain, or she'll ruin her laptop. Precipitation isn't good for electronics." Is that incredibly stupid or what? For goodness sakes, it was a big, gigantic BILLBOARD!
But at the same time, I think my reflexes are getting better. While throwing pinecones, I managed to get one in the back of a truck and one on the back seat of a convertable. From a hundred feet up in a tree! It was a moment of awesomeness that I didn't even know I had in me.
Now, when I fall out of trees, I usually land on my feet!
And after I put the wrong shoe on, I managed to tie a bow in under twenty seconds with only one hand! I'm proud. Okay, so maybe I'm not that proud.
Seriously, I CAUGHT the olives! There was no big mess of shattered glass for me to clean. Like lightenting, my lithe wrist shot out and snatch the olives from their impending doom.
(Can wrists be lithe?)
Of course, the billboard thing was just dumb. No getting around it.
So I don't feel too bad about growing progressively dumber if I can manage to have awesome reflexes.
Wait, what does "progressively" mean again?
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
I rarely meet any fellow aspiring authors who aren't interested in the work of other authors who have much in common with them. Exploring various blogs, I have come across many persons who desire to write, and I thought I would post this link:
Click on the link and it will lead you to a page that has a bunch on novels written by teenagers. I read the winning entry and I quite enjoyed it. Plus, seeing the completed works of other teens was encouraging.
puffed by The Reluctant Dragon at 4:01 PM
I am a creature of habit. Every morning at precisely 6:02, I get up, put on my fuzzy slippers and plaid bathrobe and I sit down to a cup of coffee with 3.7 teaspoons of sugar, one egg done over-hard, and the Wall Street Journal. Rain or Shine.
Okay, so maybe not. I am not a creature of habit, nor would I willingly get up at 6:02. I don't measure my sugar and I don't drink coffee every morning.
But, every couple days or so, I do read the paper. And a couple days ago, they published an interesting article on the power of music. You should read it! The article is worth the time it takes to peruse it. Not necessarily because I agree with everything the author says, but because it is inductive to thought. And thinking is always a good thing.
To quote Beauty and the Beast:
Gaston: "I'm afraid I've been thinking,"
Lefoo: "A dangerous pastime!"
Gaston: "I know."
It intrigued me, and I especially liked this quote that the author, um, quoted.
"Only a world without love strikes me as instantly and decisively more terrible than one without music." ~Sir Kingsley Amis
In the article, they presented two different opinions in a paragraph that starts with the words, "Enter the men in white coats" The first opinion hypothesizes that the human brain is wired to find meaning in music, whereas the second maintains that music is merely "auditory cheesecake."
I noticed that the first opinion was from a neuroscientist, while the second was just from a psycologist. Thoughts on that anyone?
Anyway, I absolutely loved this quote(it made me laugh):
Donald Francis Tovey "I have (this sounds like fantastic nonsense, but it isn't) frequently caught myself positively solving some problem (of a more or less philosophical nature) in, say, the key of A minor, where I had utterly failed to reason it out in words." Who cannot empathesize with that?
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Or perhaps not. Isn't this a jolly picture? Kei from Photos By Keilah took it. Just for my benefit, I'll have you know that I was somersaulting down the hill, not falling down it. =D
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Hurrah for Problematic!!!
You have officially won the WitNN contest! Expect an award shortly. I love your picture!!!
Second place to B and third to Peach.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Keep Voting! Scroll down for pictures.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Lib and Jare, my friends over at Random Jotdowns, are having a Duct Tape week. As I can't really email the video to Lib so she can post this on her awesome blog, I am posting it here. I am not exactly sure what number today is, but at church we made this awesome movie:
We took it in the game closet after service. After we emerged, giggling, we discovered that a little girl had locked herself in the elevator! The same elevator with which we made this video. Make sure you watch the end! Peach, always a dear, filmed it for us. Rock on duct tape!!!
I think Lib and Jare should have a duct tape day each week.
P.S. If you haven't voted yet, VOTE! Scroll down a couple of posts to see the pictures.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
My birthday is in two days! I am so excited that I think I will go outside to turn cartwheels and I will teach the punching bag a lesson! I am exuberant!
Update: I got a bruise failing to do a flip and I split the skin on my knuckle. It was sort of anti climatic.
Anyway... vote! Scroll down to see the contest photos.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
"By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Monday, October 5, 2009
Is a device, crafted of metal and adorned with supposedly heat resistant plastic. However, it is not its looks that cast such terror into my heart-it is its dark and evil purpose.
For, when the authorities decide to inflict torture, they attach it to the wall, sending electricity through the long, thin wicked cord. The shocking currents heat up the device: first the cyndrilical brand, and then the pinching, cruel handle-thingamabob.
Then, advancing grimly, the operator, usually an executioner or some such person, snaps the handle thingamabob open and closed several times. The very sound chills the marrow of my bones. Yanking a lock of hair practically off my head, they feed it into the machine. Slowly, ever slowly, so as to prolong the torment, they twist the hair closer and closer to my scalp, until I am sure it will burn me.
Smoke rises from the lock of my hair, though they tell me it is steam, before the evil instrument is released. My hair, normally resplendent in frizzy-ness has been manipulated into a perfect curl.
But I resolve revenge! Beware all Curling Irons! I will come back someday and destroy you.
Remember the last baby shower I went to?
On Saturday, I attended another. And I won a game guessing how many diapers the lady whom the shower was honoring had changed in all her years as a mother. My guess was 17,o13 or something like that because seventeen happens to be a number of awesomeness. Her approximate answer was 14, 125.
Another of the games, (Mrs. E, you are a genuis) involved mushing a banana and feeding it to your team mate with one hand. I had a lot of fun watching Bracie gag on mushy fruit. HEHE!
Kei! I think you should post pictures of that.
At every baby shower I've ever been to, I have won a shower game. I'd be proud of that, but I am not quite certain it is something to be proud of.
puffed by The Reluctant Dragon at 3:01 PM