penn

My Room

Such a long time in coming. Since the semester is almost done (just one paper left, and it is due tomorrow morning at 9 am), I decided to take some time and post these pictures. I actually took the pictures over a month ago, so my room has changed a touch, but it's close enough. The only major difference is the addition of a chair in the corner with my bookshelf and attic door (the chair was in the living room, but my housemates got some new furniture, so I brought my chair back upstairs. I wish they had gotten furniture much earlier. I did not intend to leave my chair downstairs for so long. It's the same round nest chair that you can see in the pictures of my old apartment in Oregon).

Pictures are after the cut. If you're interested, I highly urge you to click on the pictures -- clicking will take you to my flickr page, and I have added lots of notes onto the photos. I'm also happy to answer questions about anything seen in my room that didn't make the photos.

The only thing I'm missing is a photo of my closet. I have a photo from last fall, but I've made more improvements, so I'll have to take another photo later this week and put it up.

Sadly, this room is much more crowded than my beautiful, sparse apartment of almost two years ago (I can't believe it has been that long). I am still working on paring down my belongings.

As you look at the pictures, you will go from looking at my bed and turn clockwise around the room. The first door is the way out, the second door is my closet, and the third door goes into the attic. The doors make arrangement a challenge, but I'm happy with the layout I ended up with. I toyed around with a few other ideas before settling on this.

The Waking

The Waking, by Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close besides me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and taking my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

A year ago today

fair credit to Brenna for inspiration, and happy birthday to Brenna as well!

I was in New Zealand hanging out with my friend Vinnie in Wellington. I went to morning mass, visited a great museum with a Lord of the Rings exhibit, and spent the evening hang out at a bar and playing pool.

My life was blissfully simple a year ago. I'm sometimes torn about all the things I own. I love my books like children, and I own a lot of nifty things. But in some senses, I own way too much stuff, and I know that I can get by with only a backpack. Someday, I hope to find a happy medium between the backpack and the room full of stuff. I'm thinking "must all fit in my car" is a good metric, but even that feels constricting. Perhaps, some day, I will learn to let go of any book that can be commonly found at any library. If I could do that, I imagine that I have perhaps two boxes full of books that are either difficult to replace or referenced on a regular basis.

Two years ago today, I was writing an open letter to spoiled yuppies. I had presented my senior capstone, and I was wrapping up projects and papers in order to prepare for my graduation a month hence. Life was hectic. I lived in a smaller room, but I had roommates that were friends. I lived in Oregon then.

Three years ago today, I was at Het Loo and Kroller Muller (Dutch palace and a modern art museum). It seems that I never posted pictures. I'll have to do that one of these days; I've got lots of photos (edit:here are some photos. Go backwards from there. yay). Both places are still crystal clear in my mind. I miss the Netherlands, and I hope to visit again in the next few years. I would not be opposed to living there someday (and I would also willingly live in New Zealand).

Four years ago today, I had not yet started my blog. April 23rd was a Wednesday of my sophomore year of college. I started the morning with organic chemistry lecture at 8 am. Other than that, I don't clearly remember my schedule (I know the classes, but I'm not sure which one was on Wednesday). I think I had poetry from 11 to noon, but this is unclear in my mind. I likely spent time doing work for the Pacific Index, the campus newspaper. I also likely spent the evening hanging out with my then-boyfriend, who may or may not have had a band practice that I may or may not have attended.

Five years ago today, I was a college freshman. On Tuesday, I probably had an 8am lab. And, again, I likely spent time working for the Pacific Index. My boyfriend that year lived out of town, and I was excited to see him that weekend on my trip home. That weekend would actually spell the beginning of my acknowledgment of the end of our relationship. He had an accident while we were playing ultimate frisbee; forehead met metal tetherball pole, and I spent a Saturday evening in the emergency room while he got stitches and was pissy. He didn't want nor need my help, and he didn't allow me to give him help; this was when I realized we had problems in our relationship.

Six years ago today, I was a high school senior, and I was preparing for the International Baccalaureate exams. I was just beginning to date the boy that would break up with me the next year. Right before this date, I had decided to accept my admission to Pacific University over a handful of more prestigious yet infinitely more stressful universities. I decided that stress would be a thing of the past for my life. If only my self of 6 years ago could see me now.

Ten years ago today, I was 14. I wanted to be an interior designer (despite no good knowledge of color or art), or a waitress, or maybe a math teacher. I was in eight grade, and my best friend was a girl by the name of Sean Thomas. Looking back on it, we were likely friends through our strange love of sci-fi, musicals, and British television. Unfortunately, it did not make for a lasting friendship, even though we both put in a lot of effort over the years. At this time, I still had my wisdom teeth. I hated science due to a string of horrible teachers. I was at the top of my game in US History, and I was acing algebra. Life consisted of a lot of internet chatting via ICQ.

Fifteen years ago today, I was 9 years old. I'd only been to one country besides the US (Guatemala, for the record), but I'd already been there twice. I lived in Omaha, Nebraska, and I thought that the Republicans were awesome. I do remember that I decided with a friend that Bill Clinton and George Bush should both be in the White House, as Bush had the better foreign policy while Clinton had better domestic policy. I still liked science then; dissection was awesome, and I remember thinking physics was cool. I've changed so much.

A great thing about Michigan

It's 9 pm, and it is still 74 degrees out. I spent today in gauchos, a tshirt, and flip flops.

This almost makes up for the snowstorm we had a few weeks ago.

I think this Michigan summer will agree with me. For the first time in many, many, many years, I might go an entire week without wearing a hoody.

Fish Friday!

Sharing some fish pics with y'all. I have so many excellent pictures in flickr, and I think it's time to be sharing them with my blog audience.

Purses

Carrying a purse is a trend (or life habit, some might say) that I've never really gotten into.

I don't know if it was the exclusive use of cargo pants for so many years that did me in on the purses. For about 6 or so years of my life, I only wore pants with good size pockets. I use to carry around my wallet, keys, folding scissors, a worry stone, and all sorts of other stuff in my pockets (well, actually, I don't think I carried around a wallet much. That was probably in my backpack most days, if at all. I wonder if I ever brought a wallet to junior high with me).

In any case, I rarely carry a purse. I've been known to use one on a first date, since the wallet (even a man wallet) in the pocket looks a bit bulky. Every rare once in awhile, I'll take one to church or a show if I'm wearing an outfit with no pockets. But for the most part, I just can't get into the purse habit.

In my defense, I normally carry my backpack around, and that has anything you might ever want in a purse. I've got oodles of stuff in my backpack (headphones, jump drive, pens, checkbook, wallet, phone, earplugs, deck of cards, lactose pills, etc). Sometimes I envy the purse carriers, since they can just grab this little bag and be out the door. If I don't want to take my backpack, I usually just put a few choice items into the inner pocket of my coat (choice items being wallet, a pen, and the cell phone). Now that it's not winter anymore, however, I can't get away with that trick. I suppose I can put stuff into my rain coat pocket, but I don't always carry my rain jacket around in nice weather.

So, my purse carrying blog readers, how do you do it? How do you justify carrying around another bag in addition to the backpack that I haul every M-F? And do you have one dedicated purse, or do you switch up purses? How do you possibly find one that works with most of your wardrobe choices? And how big is the purse you carry? I'm thinking that I might be tempted to carry around a paperback at all times if I had a decently big purse, and that seems like it would weigh me down.

Anyway, purse thoughts are appreciated. Maybe someday I'll cultivate a love of the purse, but I'm definitely not there yet.

Thoughts on Virginia Tech

As a potential college-level educator (hopefully), this tragedy hit a little too close to home. I've got several thoughts to share, but I'll try to make my thoughts brief.

In my rational mind, I know that I should not trouble myself with an unpredictable event like this. I definitely have a greater chance of incurring harm by driving out to my field site. This sort of event is (thankfully) quite rare.

Additionally, if we are to mourn the lives of these students and teachers, why do we not mourn the lives of those who die every day in greater numbers? There was a prominent scientist who died (ironically, this Holocaust survivor perished on Israel's Holocaust Memorial Day). But, surely, wonderful scientists die of other causes as well. People die every day in great numbers due to cancer, car accidents, sporting accidents, and so on.

Emotionally, however, I have different feelings. I honestly worry from time to time that a disgruntled student could decide to shoot up my classroom. What if a failed student decides to exact revenge? What if I am not as sensitive as I should be to the needs of my students? What if I happen to be an innocent bystander to an altercation? My office is right across the street from several excellent vantage points, such as the university bell tower and a concert hall. One day about a month back, I read about Charles Whitman and the UT Austin shootings. Even though the odds are slim to none of personally being shot, I still thought about it when I walked by the bell tower the next day.

I don't think there's much of anything I can do to console those affected by the shootings. But I will do what I can do. What I can do is to be a conscientious, thoughtful teacher that actively tries to assist students. I can remind my students to care for each other. I can look for injustice in the treatment of my students, and I can remind people that their choice to belittle a fellow student or treat someone poorly may very well have real consequences.

I figure, these days, that being a good person who actively tries to do the right thing is about all any of us can do to defuse the hate that is all too rampant in society.

Pieces of my heart

A few photos from my spring break trip (back in late Feb/early March) to the great Pacific Northwest:

Poem: Cloths of Heaven

In a forum I frequent online, I asked people to share their favorite poem. I got an outstanding response, and one poem in particular was shared multiple times. Now, I share it with you:

Aedh wishes for the Cloths of Heaven ~ W.B. Yeats

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

What reading will do for you

I've been reading books since I can remember. One of the funny side effects is that you sometimes know the meaning of words that you can't pronounce.

For years, I've thought that "whinge" was a word something like wince. Don't ask me why. Recently, I've been reading some online forums where the word "whinge" is used a lot. I've always thought "do they mean whine? How bad can their spelling be?"

Only today did I realize that the Brits must spell "whine" differently. So I looked it up, and, yup, the British and Australians spell it "whinge," even though they pronounce the word the same way we do. Interesting.