3rdragon: (firebird)
I just got back from a day of selling soup at the Second Annual Mennonite Philadelphia Mennonite Central Committee Festival and Benefit Auction (Where my test knit of Madison's Bell Lace Stole sold for $120, which I was very pleased about. (There were quilts that went for less than that. Which is more a commentary on how quilts do not sell in Philadelphia than a commentary on how awesomely well my stole did, but we'll just ignore that. And enjoy our new hand-quilted double-bed-sized Falling Blocks in lovely shades of green that we accidentally bought for $200.)

Also finished my first week of my new job, which was exhausting, even though I did almost nothing, but oh yay employment, and they seemed pleased with the almost-nothing I did, which is something. (And it's more than I did in my first week at my last job. Possibly more than I did in my first month at my last job. At least, if I don't count the daily work of living in Zambia.)

And I think that tomorrow I'm hauling all of my books and clothes and various possessions back to the third floor in order to make room for the Colombian ballet student who will be coming to live with us in early November.

Also a meme. )
3rdragon: (Default)
Who washes clothing with ammonia or acids?

Chlorine bleach I understand, yes, and it's nice for the washing machine to warn me. But I wouldn't even think to put ammonia in with laundry, nor acid, except possibly vinegar, and even that would be a bit weird, or tomato products (those are mildly acidic, right?), but that wouldn't be intentional, nor in sufficient quantities to be a problem.

I mean, presumably someone did, or there wouldn't be a warning about it, but who says, "Let me mix some bleach and ammonia with the dirty laundry"? (I realize that this is a thing that people accidentally do sometimes, which is why it's nice to be warned about it, but . . . the washing machine?)
3rdragon: (Default)
Watch out: I have a screwdriver and I know how to use it!

----


When I upload pictures from my camera, I'll tell you about the circus tent fabric cover for a trapeze rig that covered my living room with 132 yards of fabric yesterday.

Hm.

1 April 2011 04:51 pm
3rdragon: (Default)
Dear friend from high school, (who I ran into at the dance last night and has no super-secret lj code name because I've never needed to talk about her before)

Your facebook profile definitely *is* hidden. Possibly you will figure this out and track me down.

Me
3rdragon: (Default)
Not only would it have been easier three hours ago, before so many people walked on it, while, "I'm sorry, but I don't have a job either and can't afford to pay someone to do something I can do perfectly well myself," is a pretty good reason for not paying someone to shovel the walk, I think I like "It's done already" better. I don't need to actually give that excuse to the nice young man who shows up at the door, it just exists.

In my defense, it was still snowing until close to an hour ago.

So

20 November 2010 02:02 pm
3rdragon: (Default)
I'm done with NaNo. I could hypothetically have been done with NaNo two days ago, but then I wrote ridiculous and delivered soup and worked co-oping hours and dragged home the carcass of a large fish and cooked it, and made steak for supper (First time I'd ever cooked steak. At least, cooked steak as steak, and not chopped up in little pieces in something else. And it was pretty good. Better than I usually like steak. Awesome mushroom gravy maybe helped.), and what with one thing and another did not get around two writing those last 2004 words until today.

Hurrah.

On to Story Five!
3rdragon: (Default)
It's not one of the stories I tell, generally. However, the other week I mentioned it to my mother, who found it hilarious and then made me tell it in Adult Sunday School the next week. And I thought that it is, perhaps, a story worth telling. One of the untold Small Miriam Stories )



In other things going on in my life more recently:
- I made mozzarella and it was a success, but not as amazingly wonderful as I had hoped. I will try again with more salt and fattier milk.
- Contra dancing is excellent, but terrifying drivers are terrifying.
- I am at Smith for the next few days. If you are here and would like to see me, call my cell phone or ask in Seelye B5.
3rdragon: (Default)
This is where one of the librarians I work with is going camping later this month. She's also trying to persuade me to join the SCA.

Fun times.

Also, there's a juvenile robin keeping my company just outside the window. It's really cute in a teenagerish sort of way.

There's really not much else of note going on right now . . . I had a good fourth at my cousin's 7 1/2 Birthday Bash, although helping with setup made it a bit exhausting. But hey, I got paid $30 to go to something that I would've gone to anyway!
3rdragon: (Default)
Well, this evening of babysitting has so far gone much better than I expected when I arrived to discover the seven-year-old crying on the living room couch because he couldn't decide between a cookie or a popsicle for dessert. The three-year-old was extra clingy, and I was suspicious that it was going to be Just One Of Those Days, but so far it's been the usual gig, right down to the quiet-footed visitor half an hour after bedtime, and everything has been quiet upstairs for the past while, so I might escape a second iteration of the "Go to bed. They'll be back late. Don't wait up for them. Yes, they'll be here when you wake up in the morning." etc conversation.

We went to REI this afternoon. For those who don't know, REI is to camping supplies and outdoorswear as Ikea is to home furnishings, although not quite so overwhelming. And dad was very patient while I tried on what seemed like every boot in the store (I have wide feet, and they didn't seem to have women's boots in wide, but the men's boots didn't seem to come in wide until size eight, and one of the two kinds that came in wide were cut narrowly, and the other kind was cut large - so I wound up in a 7 1/2 men's . . . I got the blueish ones that were cut large and hope that they will stretch enough that I do not regret this purchase). I also got useful things like wool socks and a bike light and a new bike lock and a father's day present.

And the dreams. I blame the science-fiction-y-ness on the fact that I was reading The Risen Empire this week (and it was excellent!) and watching Babylon 5. Judge for yourself . . . )
Speaking of science fiction, there's nothing quite like explaining Moodle to a room full of adults, many of whom would rather just keep using Blackboard, using examples like Swanick's "The Dead" and [livejournal.com profile] kadharonon's post on "Geeks in Space."

And speaking of books, I've also been reading The Dresden Files, Robin McKinley's Chalice, 1984, some stuff that's not coming to mind right now, and The Screwtape Letters, which is interesting, if, on occasion a bit preachy (if something narrated by a devil can be preachy in a Christian way).
3rdragon: (Default)
Brother (reading from book): "Australia did not appear to exist at all. Perhaps they had dug it up and used it for other things."
Me: What are you reading?
Brother: Best of Science Fiction.
Me. Oh. Okay then. That makes perfect sense.
3rdragon: (Default)
So in my mystery care package* I received a ridiculously bright green t-shirt that reads "JYA Smith" on the front and "Junior Year at Smith" on the back, presumably on the assumption that the fact that I'm here at Smith to be getting a care package means that I didn't go abroad. There's a world map on the back, too.

I have come to the conclusion that what this shirt really needs is the addition of some equally bright fabric paint adorning the map - I'm thinking something along the lines of a star on Córdoba and a star on Northampton.

So - anyone have some puff paint? I'm thinking maybe in shiny neon blue.



*My dad says that he didn't order it. Imagining my mother ordering a care package is difficult. So where did it come from? Certainly not my 17-year-old brother.
3rdragon: (Default)
4 3/4 pages in 2 1/4 hours; not bad. And I got my laundry done.

Now I just need to do my math homework and my PRAXIS application and send more ConBust e-mails, and write that research paper that I've been procrastinating on - and then I'll be properly on top of things. (Not that I'm badly not on top of things - this paper isn't due until Friday - but PRAXIS and that other paper are the sort of long-term deadlines that creep steadily closer . . .)

However, I think that this was a good evening's work, and that it is time for sleep now.
3rdragon: (Default)
Hear that, contents of my wardrobe?

You can stop falling apart now.
3rdragon: (Default)
But it's been ConBust (aka GIANT student-run sci-fi/fantasy/anime/gaming/awesomeness convention), which tends to eat one's life. Of course, most of you have been participating in that, so you know about it already.

Now I just need to get through my Combinatorics take-home midterm and fencing nationals, and then I'll have free time. I could hang out with friends. Or read some of the books strewn about my room. That would be nice.
Also, we established this morning that if the fencing nationals flight is delayed such that I'm late for class on Tuesday (shouldn't happen, but one never knows), I can call the prof and turn in my exam to my grader (who happens to be epee mommy duck). So that's good.

Now I just need to figure out what classes I'm taking and convince Em to proxy for me (again). And, of course, finish any other homework that happens to be due this week, such as the proposal for the paper that I need to write in Portuguese.
3rdragon: (Default)
Okay, I'm leaving for room draw in 15 minutes, so this will have to be quick.

-I have a terrible room draw number, but I'll be a senior, so it can't be that bad, can it? All the same, room draw was REALLY INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL when I was choosing a Ziskind room; I figure that it can only get worse. On the plus side (?), I don't actually know any of the rising seniors in the house (except for grumpy Monday morning girl, who appears not to be in the directory under the name I know her by. I think she'll be a senior. Maybe she's a senior already. That would be nice.)

-I have a summer internship, and the only major hurdle remaining as far as that is concerned is PRAXIS paperwork.

-I finished Viaje al fin del milenio. Egads, 400 large pages of really dense Spanish. And the prof said that this one had an easier plot than the other! I personally found the jumping around in time really confusing; I'd much rather follow multiple characters and multiple plotlines than multiple timelines - at least as far as easy-to-understand goes; multiple timelines can be cool.

-I also plowed through about 100 pages of the Portuguese textbook. Well, the relevant bits of it; I didn't read the exercises.

-Finished The Two Towers, putting myself ahead of schedule for Inklings as well.

-I rather feel like I spend most of break doing homework.

-I do not have a take-home final over Conbust, which is a good thing (I do have a take-home final over Fencing Nationals, but I'm likelier to have more free time that weekend, and she gave us two more days, too). I'm sad that this was occasioned by Alberton's death, but very glad for the reprieve. Albertson would've approved of ConBust, I'm sure.

-I saw Emily's father play Sweeny Todd. He was terrifying. See if I ever sleep over at her house again!

-Time with family was good. Time with small cousins was even good, despite the fact that they were suffering from nasty colds. They do not seem to have passed them to me, though, for which I am Very Glad.

-This computer has had grumpy internet all evening. Also, the scroll-dot on the mouse only goes up. I think I use it rather more for down.


Okay, time to have my housing fate determined.

So -

15 March 2009 05:31 pm
3rdragon: (Default)
I'm home, I arrived safely, traveling was traveling (the train was only 16 minutes late! That's practically on time). I'm enjoying being home with my mother and getting to see my dad.

Today's sermon involved the phrase, "Senator Nameforgotten could hang the ten commandments in every courthouse and school in the nation - well, he couldn't, but let's just say for the sake of argument that he could - but there would still be drug dealers and murderers and ponzi schemers and capitalists."
Our new preacher amuses me. He also has a tendency to start a story and then trail off and conclude, "When I started this story I thought it was going to be more relevant and less self-indulgent, but never mind," but he still gives good sermons and is quite charismatic. There's something very personal about them. Also, there's something intensely gawky about him that reminds me of a teenage boy.

We went to Joy Tsun Lao for lunch today to celebrate my cousin Naomi's birthday, and both Naomi and her brother behaved quite well - although they were not pleased by the St. Patty's Day parade which made the drive take an hour instead of twenty minutes because we had to make this giant circle to get around it.

And then I helped in the latest installment of The Turkey Saga. I have now stuck gooey green stuff underneath a turkey's skin preparatory to stuffing and baking it. (The gooey green stuff was actually pretty nice; it was slightly warm and smelled of sage.)
The oven is still way too hot, but I think mom set it to about half what it should be and it's hopefully about right. She says that the new stove is coming on Wednesday.

-

5 February 2009 07:28 pm
3rdragon: (Default)
I really want that whitewater kayaking class. But last I heard, I was on the waitlist (#2? #3?), and if I don't get an e-mail by tomorrow saying that I've gotten in, it's not happening. At least not this semester. *sigh*

On the subject of other Bannerweb-related things I want, it would be nice to know my grades from last semester. Or even just receive verification that the credits have gone through, or something. I'm not seriously worried about it (either the grades or the credits-going-through), but I'm pretty sure Smith got all of the relevant paperwork at the beginning of January. Or maybe mid-January, thinking about trans-Atlantic postal times. Although PRESHCO does have a fax machine.

In other news, life goes on, and it's better on days when I'm getting over being sick and have enough sleep. I even got enough sleep last night, contrary to popular belief (I'm all for five-college practice. But events at Mt. Holyoke that end at 10pm get to be a little much. Particularly when you're never sure if there's going to be a ride for you to get back to campus, or if you'll have to take the bus. But I did have fun, and got to bed at a nearly-reasonable time). And tomorrow is Friday. I should remember to get food tomorrow so that I can eat on Saturday.
3rdragon: (Default)
"Dude, Crazy Old Guy is crazy!"
See, there's this elderly man (he's maybe like an elementary school teacher taking an enrichment class?) in my 19th Century History (of Spain) class. He has this tendency to go into long rambling questions (note: this is a straight lecture class. We might be glad for a change of pace, but A) his questions are just him lecturing instead of the prof, and B) most of the time he's unintelligible - to us Americans, anyway. Our conclusion: he's not accustomed to being on this side of the desk), and got dubbed "Crazy Old Guy" the first day when he interrupted the lecture to, as far as we could make out, argue that Franco had many unappreciated wonderful qualities (Yes, perhaps Spain was a more stable country or whatever, but he was a repressive dictator who stopped on individual freedoms and had people who didn't agree with him murdered. I don't think that a police state is worth it, thanks all the same. "He who sacrifices freedom for security," and all that (although I should mention that I can see points one could get to with that quote that I wouldn't agree with)). So yeah, we named him "Crazy Old Guy," and he hasn't done anything to disprove such an appellation.

Okay, I got distracted by children's music just now. Do any of you know Two of a Kind? Probably not; they used to be a pretty local Philadelphia group. But their stuff is really good. I'll bring some when I come back to Smith.

It would appear to be winter now. My face has decided to go all dry, and my annual hand-rash has returned. Clearly it doesn't care that we're in Spain.

There were going to be other things in this entry, but music from my childhood may have caused me to forget them.

Oh, right, how were your Thanksgivings? Mine was . . . odd. It sure didn't feel like Thanksgiving, but when it was actually happening it was distracting enough that I didn't notice.

I have two and a half weeks of class left. In thirty-three days I will be home. This is a very odd feeling. I will be glad to be back, though.

Oh: I find my church to be hilarious sometimes. There's been a discussion of the watershed on the listserve, and one of the little old ladies just pointed out that historically there was a spring near the church, which appears to go under the church, since there's always water flowing through the basement, even when it's dry. She continued to suggest that we could do baptisms down there; it would be much more convenient than tromping down to the river to break the ice.*

I think that that was about all.




*On Christmas Day in 1723 the first congregation of the Church of the Brethren in America baptized several new members in the Wissahickon Creek.
3rdragon: (Default)
So, there you are, kids. If you ever need to tell your Spanish-speaking friends, "This is the most difficult shower I've (n)ever taken," think back to this moment.

Tonight has been an evening for feeling silly.
Despite having used the oven twice before (and forgetting a knob last time), I forgot to set it to bake, and to set the timer, and to set the temperature. So I waited 15 minutes wondering why the oven wasn't getting hot . . .

And then I tried to take a shower. Aside from needing to wash my hair, I have a sore throat and a runny nose, and thought that hot water would feel nice.
First problem: I couldn't light the hot water heater. Well, actually, I managed the water heater just fine; I even noticed that the one knob on the gas line was turned and turned that. I just couldn't light the butane lighter to get the flame lit. The last one was running out of juice, so Pepi clearly got around to getting a new one, and I couldn't get it to light. I can light camping stoves. I can light Coleman lanterns in the dark. I can manage those nasty paper matches. I can light fires with one match - with no matches if there are still a few coals left. I can light fires in the woods when it's been raining for three days and everything is soaked. But I'm a wooden matches kind of gal. I don't like butane lighters. This is why. And the fact that the metal piece gets hot and will give you a nastier burn than the actual fire, and you're liable to forget that it's hot until it burns you.
So I knocked on Ana's door when she was practicing and she lit the water heater for me.
And all was well, right?
Of course not. The water was coming out of the faucet rather than the shower head, which it's never done before, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to switch it (turns out the little pull-up piece is in the same place as the ones at home, only it's disguised as a holder for the portable shower head). Ana to the rescue again.
And all was well?
Well, I started my shower. And when I went to rinse the soap out of my hair, I discovered that the water had gone cold. Looking through the little window, it looked like the heater had gone out. So I called Ana (who was luckily puttering around the kitchen) and stood there wet and shivering while she tried to re-light the heater - and discovered that the tank of butane was empty. So I stood there wet and shivering while she changed it and re-lit the heater.
Era la ducha más dificil que nunca he tomado.

This whole weekend has been vaguely bleh. In addition to being sick, I read the death-crumpets book (La virgen de los sicarios, The Virgin of the Hitment), which was both depressing and disturbing. And I can't even say that I didn't like the book, because it wasn't the book's fault. What I didn't like was knowing that the situation that the book describes still exists in Colombia; the drug trafficking and the casual disregard for human life and relationships, the world where someone will kill you for your nice sneakers that will probably get them killed sometime next week, and, what is perhaps the worst bit, a world where many people don't believe things can be different.
And while I knew about many of the problems in Colombia, there's a difference between knowing and reading a novel where you're immersed in that world.
I would say, "oh good, I've finished it," but I still need to watch the movie before class on Wednesday, and then we'll be discussing it for three classes.
And writing for the past two-three days has been like pulling teeth (okay, not quite that painful, actually. But slow and draggy and hard), although that finally got better today and perhaps now that Things Are Happening it will continue being better.

And homework (aside from death-crumpets) was major-time Not Happening; but the paper is short and isn't due until Tuesday evening.

I did get work done on my books on Friday, though. And people are coming over for paella tomorrow, which should be fun.
3rdragon: (Default)
Suppose that someone gives you a bottle of perfume for your birthday. And you thank them politely, sniff it and decide that it could be worse, and stick it on the shelf with your books and other random things, because you only have two little shelves and a closet flat-area, and pretty much forget about it. Later, you acquire more books.
One night, preparatory to going to bed, you scoop up your dictionary and stick it back on the shelf. You don't do this particularly well, and some of the other books fall over. And knock over the bottle of perfume. The glass bottle of perfume. Which falls five feet to the floor and shatters into tiny pieces.

I watched the bottle of perfume plunge to the floor, perfectly aware of what was about to happen, and completely unable to do anything about it (in my defense, I was still holding the dictionary). So I had glass and perfume all over my floor. We swept up the glass and mopped the floor, but my room still smelled strongly of perfume. I had the window open and my pillow over my head all night, and I still smelled it. And now I can't go barefoot in my own bedroom.

I guess that it's a good thing that I found the scent somewhat acceptable to begin with? And now I don't have to consider whether or not to bring it home, and worry about it breaking in my luggage.

. . . I still have the deodorant that came with it, though. And I'm really not going to use it now. Aside from the fact that I'm under the impression that certain kinds of spray bottles are environmentally undesirable (CFCs? Decline of the peregrine falcon population? Something like that. And I don't know if you need to spray them or not for them to be undesirable, or if it's already undesirable . . .), I'm thoroughly tired of the scent already, and am sure that I will be much more tired of it before it gets around to going away.

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