From Megan.

at Panera

It's about to rain and I'm sitting here drinking my coffee and eating my French Toast bagel listening to some education majors studying for their final. Ick.

I want to shout "ESCAPE! GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!" at them. But I will refrain. Perhaps they are elementary ed majors in which case there is much less cause for alarm.

The blonde is wearing jewelry, makeup and an incredibly short skirt. She has no idea.

At the very least they could have chosen some other spot in which to conduct their business. I think they're elevating my blood pressure.

Right after coming over and sharing germs.

Alexis:
Hey would you like to write my sponsor letter?
I will pay you $50.
pppplllleeeaaaasssseee.
I'm sorry for breathing on you.
ppppplllleeeeaaassseeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just the weather.

Her: It was CRAZY. It was like "Raaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrr! raaarrrrr! raAAARRRRrrr! (tiger claw hand motions) Shake, shake, shake, shake! (the "Twist") Skeet-skeet-skeet! Skeet-skeet! (zigzag hand motions)"
Me: (speechless)
Her: The "skeet skeet" was for the trees scraping against the windows.

A Cautionary Tale for Book-Lovers.

So there I am, minding my own business at Borders on a Friday night, drinking my almond latte and perusing displays of new fiction, when suddenly I am the addressee of the single worst pickup line I have ever had the misfortune to hear.

Guy: You look well-read.
(Pause)
Me: Um. Really?
Guy: Yeah. You just look like you’ve read a lot. I was wondering if you could suggest any good nonfiction.
Me: Um. I, er, I don’t really read nonfiction... often. (Looking pointedly at the stack of fiction on the table below.)
Guy: Oh. Really? Oh.
(Awkward pause)
Guy: I listen to it on my ipod. While I run.
Me: Oh. Wow. That’s… impressive. (Very interested in this book I randomly selected.)
Guy: I have an anthology that has summaries for five hundred famous works of fiction. I just read the summaries because they give you the main themes. All I want’s the main themes... so why waste my time reading all that other stuff? It’s great.
(Very deliberate pause. I consider spilling latte on myself so that I can escape.)
Me: I was an English major. I like that other stuff.

The conversation (if you can call it that) did not end there. This charming, nonfiction-reading assailant continued to ask me things like “do you like dancing?” until I was forced to pretend I had somewhere to go. This was extremely annoying as I did not manage to purchase any new books, which was, of course, the object of going to Borders in the first place.

Lesson: Don’t go into Borders by yourself on Friday nights. And for Pete’s sake, TRY to not look well-read.

New digs.

It is considered an honor at the University to live in one of the prestigious Range rooms. Located in Mr. Jefferson's original buildings, these rooms are truly in the center of the University. The setting is the beautiful Lawn, probably the most popular place for students to relax, study, and play.

Because the Academical Village is a national landmark and World Heritage Site, you must be respectful of the space especially immediately outside of your room, which is public space.
Accordingly, be careful about what you leave outdoors. The only items that should be kept outside your door are your firewood, your ash holder, and a grill (no larger than 18").

Fireplace - check.
National landmark/World Heritage Site - check.
Thomas Jefferson, Edgar Allan Poe, Woodrow Wilson - check.
http://www.student.virginia.edu/range/

I hope it works. I hope it works. It worked!!!

Q: Which of the following is the correct (read: only) way to purchase an underground ticket to destinations outside zone 2 in London?

A) I'd like to buy a [single/one-day] ticket. (Assume you'll be asked which zone.)
B) I'd like to buy a [single/one-day] ticket including zone 6 please.
C) I'd like to buy a [single/one-day] ticket - I have to get to Heathrow.
D) I am GOING to HEATHROW AIRPORT. I need a ticket. Please. Thanks.

[Insert pretentious literary reference here]

I: Public Transportation

Exhibit A: London metro to airport
Kyle: Good job making friends with the Armenian slave-trader who's going to kidnap you and your sister.
Megan: (haughtily) He's Columbian.
Kyle: Oh, sorry. Good job making friends with the Columbian slave-trader, then.

Exhibit B: Airline bus to Oxford
Megan: Kyle made me buy an episode of OOOOOOOHHHH!!! (pointing, arm across my face)

Exhibit C: Train to London
Unknown train patron (in an excited manner): Ooh! He's got hair just like a porcupine!! (runs down aisle, brushes stranger's hair in passing, exits rear door of compartment)


II: Purchases

Exhibit A: ASDA
Megan: We could go buy vegetables. And 1/2 a baguette. And brie. And wine. And I suppose we could get something substantial...

Exhibit B: Primark
Anonymous: I look like a hot mom in these shorts.

Exhibit C: Odeon
(Woman sits down right next to Megan in nearly empty theater)
(pause)
Megan (to me): Wait, do we have assigned seats? (looks at ticket) Crap.

Multiple degrees? Why not.

"Let's remember who we are. We go to school. That's what we're good at! We like it. We like studying. We're good at studying. We want to wear what we want to wear when we want to wear it."

Going back! For a few days. *sigh*

Where did all these Catholics come from?

It's Lent. I think people, for various reasons, either love or hate it (er, perhaps 'love' is too strong a word?), much as the general consuming public will probably either love or hate the new McDonald's commercial advertising an annual Lenten special:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bJOIqVAD-s

Gimme.

A Simile is like a Metaphor.

Found these gems somewhere online while looking for a way to illustrate what similes are, because it's TAKS season and of course the kiddies have forgotten everything they've been taught over the past 6 months. Or maybe they never learned it. Either way, some of these are absolutely brilliant. I like 5 and 16. Enjoy!

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Valentine's Day

The following is representative of most conversations between myself and polite acquaintances this week:

Dental hygienist: So, how was your Valentine's day?
Me: (to self) Why is this an appropriate question to ask? (to hygienist) Uh, it was fine. And yours?
Dental hygienist: (gushes) It was perfect! My boyfriend bought me this new bracelet (dangles bracelet) and we went to dinner. I guess it's kind of typical, but I love that there's a whole day dedicated to relationships!
Me: Oh, yes. It's beautiful!

pause

Me: (feeling obligated to explain why I am not wearing any new jewelry) I was actually at work.
Dental hygienist: (with feeling) Oh, how sad!
Me: Yeah, well, we take turns on Saturdays and it was just my week. It's no big deal.
Dental hygienist: Well, there's always next year!
Me: Uh, yeah. Next year.

Litany

You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
—Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.

You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and—somehow—the wine.

--Billy Collins

I guess I could always be a translator when the graduate school thing falls through.

---

http://engrishfunny.com/

Revolutionary Road

So I go to my independent theater last night, by myself, which is just so cool. I am fully aware of how cool this makes me. I manage to find parking which is a near miracle in River Oaks on a Saturday night around 7. I purchase my ticket (outside, just like in the movies) and go in, skipping on Coke (which I adore) because the ticket just cost me $9.50 and I'm a poor teacher for another 4 months. My movie is showing upstairs and to the right is what I'm told by the very polite and attractive man in the fun, fun hat standing at the stairway, so I go upstairs, silencing my phone, and notice that the upstairs bar (they have a BAR - how classy) is just THE place to be. Okay. Sit down four rows back because this is a tiny theater and there are probably 10 rows in the whole room, and manage to be just behind these three guys. Who have brought in their alcoholic beverages of choice (vodka). I can smell nothing else for the next 2 hours. Additionally, they seem to have lost their capacity for volume-monitoring, and soon the whole theater knows exactly what's on their minds (KATE WINSLET IS SO HOT! I KNOW!). Add to this the fact that each of them gets up at least twice (when you gotta go, you gotta go?) and one in particular has difficulty navigating his way through the row he is sitting in, with the result being a large popcorn spilled all over some poor man's lap and OH I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE!! and everyone rolling their eyes and shaking their heads and even some shhhing coming from the more feisty older patrons.

It was SO worth my $9.50. Even if the movie was nowhere near as good as the novel, as per usual.

Favorite

"Isn't it great? It's my birthday gift to ME! I'm so happy!"

Davis students teach me about ethnicities (again)

me: So what was the conflict in this film clip? Jorge?
Jorge: man versus man
me: Good, and how do you know?
Jorge: Well, that white girl wanted to, you know, mess up that other girl.

-beat-

me: Um, aren't they all white?
Jorge: Oh, yeah but you know, Miss, the white white one. With the yellow hair.

The clip was from Little House on the Prairie. Further proof that only blondes are really white.

C'est fini!!

Finally! Thank goodness.

Chillicothe "librarian."

Mom: actually only people with an MLS
that's a Masters in Library Science
are real librarians
no way
I'm more about customer service
today we had a patron's truck towed
I'm THAT kind of librarian
Me: HAHAHAHAHA
Mom: he still doesn't know
unless the towing company or police called
I wonder if it will make the newspaper Police Column

I am from--

dry leaves piled up high in the street gutters, so tall that small children wading through are covered up to their necks

the smell of cut grass and hose water—sprinkler water
claddagh rings and crucifixes blessed by the Pope (which Pope?) and rosaries and saints’ medals
hooded sweatshirts—so many that rows of them hang unused in the basement, rediscovered occasionally on visits home

the fear of being unprepared, and of cicadas and their crunchy shells

everything in a Ziploc bag
tea at night with sugar and a plate for the tea bag
the scar on my knee from sledding down the ravines in the old neighborhood
the yellow and seafoam green of our kitchen
the way my dad laughs on the phone with his relatives
dominoes, Sequence, hearts
my grandmother’s olive carpet and squeaky floor
Paparazzi for birthdays
breakfast out for Sundays
taking a jacket
leaving the light on so when you come home late you feel like you are missed

My most favorite place to be away from home.

It's strange way your brain ties memories to particular images so that years later, when you see some photograph, you will feel exactly the same way you did upon your first experience of the place. Existence is such a beautiful thing.

http://curiousexpeditions.org/?p=78

--if you're anything like me, you will have a better day just remembering these places are always there.

(thanks Mom!)