Scream-of-Consciousness

Brain Cake for English Majors: Billy Collins on Prairie Home Companion

posted by lisamarlene @ 9:00 AM links to this post

I must be nuts.
The weather forecast for Yosemite Valley for the 48 hours I will be there is highs in the 40's, lows in the teens, with a 40% chance of snow flurries, and my accommodations are, not to put too fine a point on it, about like "the swamp" from M.A.S.H., minus the still and the witty banter.


I'm taking extra blankets, lots of warm clothing, extra food, extra socks, foul weather and camping gear, and the new camera... in short, anything I can fit in the trunk of a Civic coupe.
Oh, yeah, and the accommodations come equipped with a bear canister.

posted by lisamarlene @ 9:09 AM links to this post

New shoes!

I love shoes.
No, I mean it. I really love shoes.
And I just got (as a present, 'cause there's no way I can afford them myself) my first pair of Carrie Bradshaw-worthy shoes. I've been craving a pair of Santanas ever since I borrowed my sister's pink snakeskin stilettos three years ago.

posted by lisamarlene @ 10:29 PM links to this post

The fifty-four week eulogy, week 3...

Last night, in honor of what would have been Dad's 74th birthday, my sister and mother and I stayed up late and watched one of his favorite movies, The Pink Panther Strikes Again. This is the one with all the best bits: a long, well-choreographed fight with Cato; the hunchback disguise; the butler who moonlights as a drag queen; the "priceless Steinway", "Does your dog bite?", and the assassins from all over the world converging on the Oktoberfest.

And so, in keeping with that spirit, I thought I'd post a list of random things that Dad loved:

- The frozen whipped pineapple concoction that Dole sells outside the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse at Disney World.
- Musicals. Particularly South Pacific, Cats, Les Miserables, and Man of La Mancha.
- No, I mean he *really* loved Cats. I think he saw it something like six times on stage.
- Kevin Kline's performance as Otto in A Fish Called Wanda. He thought Kline was so perfect in this, he refused to watch him in any other movie.
- Used book stores. The funkier, mustier, and more labyrinthine, the better.
- Reading. He burned holes in his pillows not once but TWICE, falling asleep reading with the pillow too close to the lamp. The second time it happened, he actually tried to hide the pillowcase because he was embarrassed it had happened again. Oddly enough, the concept of getting a lower-wattage bulb didn't occur to him.
- Other people's pets. He had two dogs that he had loved more than any other, Pudgie and Sancho, but when frequent travel or other circumstances made it impossible for him to have a pet of his own, he would adopt other people's and give them alternate names ("Adolph", "Key Lime", and "Ugly", for example... "Ugly" being his name for my dog).
- Singing. At the drop of a hat and acapella, in the car, on a boat, with a goat, frequently in public, and once even in a museum. And he almost never remembered the words.
- Going out to dinner.
- His family.
- Bad jokes. "My uncle was killed by a weasel." "Oh, that's horrible!" "Yes. He was sitting on the railroad track and he didn't hear the weasel."
- Pelicans. Seagulls. Parrots. If it was loud, ungainly, obnoxious, had feathers, and lived near the sea, Dad would feed it.
- Bertrand Russell.
- Hemingway.
- Laurel and Hardy.
- Sailboats. Dad couldn't drive past a marina without stopping to walk around, look at which boats were for sale, and do the nautical equivalent of kicking the tires.
- Telling stories.


Sancho


Dad and Aidan

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:36 AM links to this post

The fifty-four week eulogy, week 1...

Fifty-four weeks from today, on what would have been his 75th birthday, I will give the eulogy at my father's memorial service. It is not a simple task. Beyond everything else he was - adventurer, naturalist, diver - Dad was a writer, and as such, he was obsessed with perfection. And so I have fifty-four weeks to craft a piece that will do justice not only to Dad's life and work, but his mania for le mot juste as well. Which, of course, has nothing to do with the scheduling.

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:27 AM links to this post

Why I keep insisting that the best Christmas carols come from Poland...


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Translation:

God is born, power trembles,
The Lord of the Heavens lies bare.
The fire is renewed, brilliance dimmed.
The infinite has boundaries.
The spurned king covered with glory,
The mortal king of all ages.
And the Word became flesh
And dwelt among us.

In a miserable stable He was born,
A manger they gave Him for a cradle.
Who is He? What surrounded Him?
Cattle, shepherds and straw.
You poor people had the privilege
To greet him first, before the rich.
And the Word became flesh
And dwelt among us.

Raise your hand, our child God,
And bless our dear fatherland
With good advice, with good times
Support our country with your strength,
Our homes and all we posess,
And your villages and your cities.
And the Word became flesh
And dwelt among us.


Bog sie rodzi, moc truchleje
Pan niebiosow obnazony;
Ogien krzepnie, blask ciemnieje,
Ma granice Nieskonczony;
Wzgardzony okryty chwala,
Smiertelny Krol nad wiekami,
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.
Wzgardzony okryty chwala,
Smiertelny Krol nad wiekami,
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.

W nedznej szopie urodzony,
Zlob Mu za kolebke dano;
Coz jest, czym byl otoczony?
Bydlo, pasterze i siano.
Ubodzy was to spotkalo
Witac Go przed bogaczami.
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.
Ubodzy was to spotkalo
Witac Go przed bogaczami.
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.

Podnies reke, Boze Dziecie,
Blogoslaw Ojczyzne mila,
W dobrych radach, w dobrym bycie
W spieraj jej sile Swa sila,
Dom nasz i majetnosc cala,
I Twoje wioski z miastami,
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.
Dom nasz i majetnosc cala,
I Twoje wioski z miastami,
A Slowo Cialem sie stalo
I mieszkalo miedzy nami.

posted by lisamarlene @ 4:38 PM links to this post

Is breakfast with the houseguests a little awkward?
Feeling a little guilty that your guest bed is too short and as hard as iron?
Why not feed them ProKrusteaz?
Yes, ProKrusteaz pancake mix - for mornings that might otherwise be a little tense.

"Dad, please pass the ProKrusteaz?"
"What's the matter? Someone chop your legs off?"

(If you don't get the joke, click here.)

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:39 AM links to this post

Nostalgia is a funny thing. Take, for example, this wallpaper sample, now proudly framed above my kitchen window. My aunt and uncle had this wallpaper in their kitchen throughout my childhood, and the breakfast table had bright yellow vinyl swivel chairs to match. Child of the 70's that I am, I thought it was fabulous. And, since my dad was always moving us from house to house every year or so (not sure if it was a real estate thing or a tax thing or simply a bored gypsy thing), Aunt Mary and Uncle Wally's house was the place that felt most like home, because it never changed. It always smelled the same, felt the same, looked the same.
Until they changed the kitchen wallpaper on me.
I was horrified. They simply weren't allowed to do that.
So imagine the look on my face a few weeks ago when I opened a present containing one of my aunt's recipe books, and found this folded inside. My cousin discovered it when he was cleaning their basement.

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:05 AM links to this post

Marooned!
Poor little Lego pirate. Marooned on a tiny island, on a sea of coffee-buttercream frosting.
And, yes, the color of the frosting almost exactly matches the lighter fronds in the palm trees.
Because Brandon's birthday happens to fall on Talk Like a Pirate Day, and theme parties are fun.
(Please note plastic sword stuck in the sand.)

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:21 AM links to this post

Bouillabaisse the traditional way... cooked over an open wood fire on the beach...

Mostly to see if I could do it, but also as an early celebration for Brandon's birthday this coming Friday, I made bouillabaisse over a hardwood (hickory, mesquite, and oak) fire on the beach on Saturday. After I finally got the fire lit (there being a strongish wind and me being somewhat averse to the concept of lighter fluid), the following items went into a big, big pot...
...twenty cloves garlic; two very large leeks; a handful of fennel seed, thyme, and rosemary, and the peel of one orange; five pounds of organic tomatoes; one entire bottle of chardonnay; two pounds of firm white fish fillets; two pounds of clams; two pounds of squid; four pounds of largish shrimp; sea salt; and saffron.
It could have done with a bit more pepper and something smokey in it... smoked paprika, for instance... but on the whole, it turned out pretty well.

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:06 AM links to this post

If you have a second, go check out my favorite webcomic, Dave Lowe's Paraabnormal. And if you have a few minutes, go back and scroll through his archives.
Here is today's panel, which literally made me snort coffee onto my keyboard...

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:16 AM links to this post

You won't often catch me writing about my work.
I learned that the hard way at my old job, when my boss said to me one day, "I'd better not make you mad, because I don't want to read about it on your blog again." And, when you work with children, there are always concerns about keeping their lives private and well away from the internet. But, occasionally, there are stories that need to be shared, because they are too damned funny not to.
Like yesterday, for example: I've been breaking in a new pair of classroom shoes, and toward the end of the day I had taken them off momentarily to relieve my blistered heels. One boy, who is not quite four, started staring at my feet. Finally, he looked up at me and said, "I don't like pink toes."
I said, "Excuse me?"
He said louder and more slowly, "I don't like pink toes."
"Oh, do you mean that you don't like my nail polish?"
He nodded his head. "I don't like pink," he explained.
"Actually, it's mocha frost," I said.
He made a face. "I don't like mocha frost."
"Well, do you think I should re-paint them then?"
He nodded his head very seriously. "Yes."
What color do you think I should paint them instead?"
He deliberated for a moment, and then, very decisively, said, "Purple."

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:08 AM links to this post

Fourteen weeks, one trip to Tahoe, one trip to Oregon, one trip to Chicago and four trips to the endodontist, one wedding, one funeral and two accordions later... (...or, what I did on my summer vacation.)

It's been a busy summer. Two weeks after graduation, I started my first teaching job, so my daily schedule has been: up at 5, go to the Y to work out, then school, then a few hours at my office, then errands, home around 8ish, walk the dog, eat dinner, and crash. As I said to a friend recently, "Sometimes I've just got to jump into a crucible to test whether it's hot enough."
Somewhere in there I managed to get to Oregon for my annual "I'm not going to do a damned thing all week but float in the pool with my book, and I'm only getting out to play cards with Grandma" vacation. And my Aunt Mary died, which meant a trip home to Chicago (yes, I still think of it as "home", just as Oregon is "home" and Dallas is "home"... home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.**) I can't say much about my Aunt's death yet. It's too soon, and death is a loaded subject for me anyhow. It is, for the moment, sufficient to say that she was my second mom. But the funeral was lovely, in its own way; everything well-chosen and appropriate. As I wrote to my dad, the only fault I think she would have found with anything was that she would have said there weren't enough sweets on the buffet table back at the house. She would have rummaged around in the kitchen for a minute and pulled out two coffee cakes that no one knew were there. The nice thing was that Cole and I got to reconnect with family we hadn't seen in ages, and in the afternoon we all sat under the tent in the backyard listening to Johnny play the accordion.
Which, with help, I managed to get on video.
I'll post a photo or two of my Aunt later.




**Robert Frost. Look it up.

posted by lisamarlene @ 5:59 AM links to this post

Io triumphe!

The problem with having your eventual success treated by kith and kin as a forgone conclusion, is that it tends to cheapen the actual victory. It may have been inevitable, but it was still damned hard work.

As I was driving south yesterday for the fifth-to-last-time (yes, I'm bloody well counting), I reflected that the ancient Romans had the right idea.

When a Roman general had a great martial victory, he was awarded a triumph by the Senate. He would ride into the city in a chariot, crowned with laurel, his procession led first by the senators, a few massive carts laden with the spoils of war, trumpeters, flute players, a white bull for sacrifice, his captives in chains, maybe a couple of elephants if they were in season. Behind him stood a man whose only job it was to whisper in his ear, admonishing him to remember he was still, in fact, mortal. (Respice post te, hominem memento te...) Which can be easy to forget when the cheering crowd is showering you with flowers and your soldiers are marching behind you shouting Io triumphe and singing, you know, paeans and stuff.

Which, I whined into my cellphone, is how I would like to celebrate my graduation next Saturday. What, after all, is Ziggy in a mortarboard compared with a few hundred Carthaginians or Gauls in chains?

Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus.
Now is the time to drink, now the time to dance footloose upon the earth.

Where's my purple toga?

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:01 AM links to this post

Almost done...

386 hours and 25 minutes until graduation.

I'm down to 16 written pages (out of approx. 500) and 18 illustrations (out of 156) still to complete, and my orals are at 2:00 on the 22nd.

(Cue incredibly cheesy theme music.)

posted by lisamarlene @ 7:35 AM links to this post

Survived the first day of exams (I think).

It was a bit surreal. I ran out of time not from skylarking, or counting bricks in the wall wondering how in the hell I was going to frame a decent answer, but simply because I couldn't write fast enough. For the first time in my life, I picked my four-out-of-seven essay questions in the first six seconds, clicked my lucky orange pen, and started writing. The three hours raced by, and the only reason I was able to complete the fourth question was that we were given an extra twenty minutes grace.

The problem being that I got so bogged down in minutiae, I may have glossed over the more significant points too quickly. Too many trees, not enough forest, so to speak. One might even call it tangential.

In other words, nothing at all like having a conversation with me.

This wouldn't happen if I weren't so violently allergic to outlining. But it gives me hives.

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:14 PM links to this post

My friend Doug sent this to me earlier today, and it was too good not to share. I seriously need this one on a tee shirt.

posted by lisamarlene @ 9:41 PM links to this post

Alright, dear readers, I'm desperately needing a good laugh.

Writing to deadline and finals prep have got my brain in evil twisted knots, I'm not sleeping, and I'm consuming more coffee than I have since the spring of '96 (no, I wasn't sleeping *before* I started od-ing on the coffee, honest), and the combination of stress, caffeine, and poor nutrition are making my stomach acids feel like Kilauea on a bad day.

So here's a challenge for you: email me the funniest damned *original* pick-up lines you can think of... the quirkier and more obscure the better... and I'll post them all here next week.

Here's one to start you off with:

"Hey... did you ever wonder what went on behind the scenes with Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels?"

posted by lisamarlene @ 6:42 AM links to this post

From The Onion: Dr. Seuss weighs in on film adaptations of his work...

Here is an excerpt, but please go read the whole thing:

"Why it's simply an outrage—a crime, you must judge!—
To crap on my books with this big-budget sludge.
My books are for children to learn ones and twos in,
Not commercialous slop for Jim Carrey to ruin.

"Have you no respect for the gems of your youth?
To pervert them on screen from Taiwan to Duluth.
Even after you drag my last word through the dirt,
I know you, you pirates,
You'd cut out my heart for a "Thing 1" T-shirt. "

posted by lisamarlene @ 4:03 PM links to this post

Student teaching is DONE.
Today was the final day of my five weeks of student teaching. That requirement has been COMPLETED. Yes, there is actually something I can check off my thrice-damned list of everything I have to do.

Brandon is in Santa Barbara for the weekend, so now begins a sixty-hour writing marathon (minus about fifteen hours for sleep and caffeination) to see just how much I can accomplish before I go back to class on Monday.
Which brings me to my favorite Robert Louis Stevenson quote:
"Writing is easy. All you have to do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until blood forms on your forehead."
Anyone who wants to bring Chinese takeout to my door will receive my everlasting admiration.

In other news, I've started making a list of everything I'm going to do, starting on May 25th, when I have a life again. Things like, oh, go to the gym. Fly my kites. (They're dusty.) Get a big stack of actual books from the library... ones with real pages. This year, the only non-Montessori-related books I've been able to "read" are the ones on cd I've been getting from the library to keep me from overdosing on npr during my 13-hours-per-week commute. You can imagine how this tortures me. Finish unpacking the rest of the moving boxes, because I still cannot find either of my brown betty teapots. Simple things.

posted by lisamarlene @ 3:47 PM links to this post