Holly's thoughts

Let's condemn MC Rove

2007-04-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

As though the Democrats were little children whose actions needed to be reformed, corrected. As though the Republicans can condescendingly say to us as a group, "Now, now, let's not be too hasty." And for the New York Times to call the tension between Republicans and Democrats "chiding," that's unacceptable! The article itself starts off well: "WASHINGTON, April 24 — President Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney aggressively challenged the motives of Congressional Democrats on Tuesday, as the House and Senate prepared to consider a war spending bill that would order troops to be withdrawn from Iraq beginning later this year" (here).

That's better wording. "Aggressively challenged" implies equal footing between the conflicting parties, whereas "chiding" implies a parent and a child, a correction to a mistake. The Republicans are in no way paternalistically correcting the Democrats' "mistake" of wanting to withdraw troops - there is no mistake, and even if it were a mistake to want to end a war that's accomplishing nothing, it would be the Democrats' right under the First Amendment to voice their opinion. No one has the right to "chide" us, no one has the right to assume they're taking the higher path and that those against the war are taking the lower. This is a tactic that the Bush Administration has used again and again over the last six years, to assume that they're right and that everyone else is wrong, and to approach every situation with that assumption. Cheney, especially, implies quite masterfully with his impressive use of praeteritio that his opponents are wrong, not only because they're Democratic, but because they're subversively undermining America, and because they believe in killing fetuses. In other words, not a fair battle, because he's taking away his opponents' arguments whilst labeling them as baby-killers who want to destroy the convention of marriage, and uninformed Americans will assume that the opponent is the bad guy. In the same way, to speak condescendingly and treat the Democrats like children is to attempt to convey to the American people that the Democrats are a badly behaved, subversive political group. And I find that genuinely disgusting. So, simply as a matter of respect, let's not ever use the word "chide" in conjunction with politics.

But as long as we're on the subject of criticizing political choices... MC Rove? This act is cannot even be chided. Chiding is good-natured, but watching Rove make a joke of himself, of the administration (which has already made a joke of itself far too many times in the past six years), and of his and other politicians' responsibility during a WAR made me feel anything BUT good-natured... I was offended, I was humiliated, and most of all I was disgusted. How is it that such twisted, megalomaniacal politicians can be representing us right now? As Barack Obama begins to gain such sweeping (and well-deserved!) support, I feel a wave of hope, and also of total, blind LOVE for everyone else who is supporting him, and beginning to become involved and interested in politics again. For the past six years politics have been repulsive and dominated by sleazy war-makers who don't care about the people, who are interested neither in us nor in capturing our interest. So now that Obama is inviting people to get involved again, to CARE about things again, about politics and our future and being a unified country that is NOT mired in a war, it's refreshing. It's wonderfully refreshing not to feel apathetic.

I must admit I've never seen anything quite so painful as MC Rove's lovely show, but nevertheless whenever I see anything awful or humiliating within the Bush Administration, I just close my eyes and silently remind myself, "Two more years.... Two more years..."

It's getting excitingly close!

Happy Earth Day!

2007-04-22T00:00:00.000-07:00

Because I made and kept (so far) only one New Year's Resolution, to watch no television, I shall treat Earth Day as a time to make an additional resolution, because I think it is as good a time as any to try to make changes for the better. Watching no more television was a personal resolution, to help myself be a tad better (addendum: I shall limit my time online as well); but considering the intent of Earth Day - to help make the world a tad better - my resolution shall be to treat it well, and so I will cut back on the one thing that I can: driving. As often as I can, I will take public transportation between school and home, walking where I need to. That should be every day of the week excepting Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I need to be at work immediately after school, and every other Saturday, when I am shadowing a doctor out in Monterey Park. So starting on Monday, I will commute via bus from my house to the Gold Line, and then to the nearest station to school via train.

This is my Earth Day Resolution!

Rejection as a means of finding my place

2007-04-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

So I didn't actually get into any schools other than St Andrews, and I feel as though this is karma's way of telling me that I should have withdrawn from them as St Andrews was my first choice, and fate's way of telling me that St Andrews is indeed the school for me, despite my concerns regarding its academic flexibility.

After opening two rejection letters and a wait list - Swarthmore, Middlebury and Reed, respectively - I felt initially crestfallen, and then almost immediately after a sense of belonging, of now being affiliated with one and only one University, and that is St Andrews. Not since I was accepted at St Andrews had I felt so completely sure of my place there, without hesitance or the lingering thought that if I got into Middlebury perhaps I might go there instead. And that feels wonderful, to be one hundred percent committed to my first choice school. I'm sending in the necessary forms this week - I've already asked Reed to take me off the wait list - and then I will be officially part of the St Andrews class of 2011!

Day off? Sleep.

2007-03-02T23:39:00.000-08:00

Aaand my last post was definitely about how I should take ants as my role models, because they are hard workers. It has been a stressful week...

But it's the weekend! And a three-day weekend at that! I got Friday off, and spent the day doing NOTHING. Well, that is deceitful - in actuality, I washed a lot of dishes (by a lot, I mean one half sink full, which is considerably less than my mother washes every other day..... but SHH, I washed dishes and it doesn't matter how many, it still earns me goody points!); I went down to the Caltech gym and pitifully used machines set at about 20 to 30 pounds... and I rewatched So I Married an Axe Murderer, with Mike Myers. Great movie.

So my day was endlessly constructive. I still have an essay to write for Monday.... but all of Saturday and Sunday to do it (that's the kind of thinking that's gonna get me through college)! I'm foolishly awaiting a phone call that I know won't come, from a dashing someone I met the other day. But I'm checking my phone significantly less obsessively than in the past, because there's just so much going on with school and my life that allows me no time to concern myself with other matters. So, he calls, he doesn't call... oh well. I got up the nerve to go and talk to him, contrary to my inherent shyness, which is definitely valuable in itself whether or not anything comes of it. It gives me hope that I won't be a loner in college! Which, by the way, I am looking forward to ridiculously right now. It's because senior year is stressful, and my mind wants me to be elsewhere... Scotland being an excellent alternative.

Scotland! I'm so excited. I worry at times that I'm putting too much importance on location, though - at the moment I am facing a dilemma, which is this: I am interested in chemistry and in the Classics, which are in two separate Faculties at St Andrews.... and it is very difficult to switch Faculties. At the moment I'm in the Faculty of Science, and if I decide that I want to pursue the Classics I'm going to have to switch to the Faculty of Arts, which I should do soon (the sooner the better!). I am reluctant to make such a huge decision so early on, which makes me worry whether St Andrews is right for me, a generally indecisive person. However, nothing could effectively deter me from going short of the earth opening up and swallowing the school - so, something I need to think about over the next few months, definitely. For I do love ancient Greek!

Determination

2007-02-22T16:16:00.000-08:00

So everything has not been solved since yesterday, when I had to remind myself to breath so as not to be frantic, but a few developments have occurred which are making it a little easier to sit back, relax, and smile. What's been freaking me out is the commitment I made to a Caltech professor to help him do a project in conjunction with my school - it involves doing a survey of all the students and then following up with an experiment of sorts with the 5th and 6th grade (nothing sciency and alarming, but rather questions based on their answers to the survey). Well, the survey asks about friendship networks, which to my mind is a little awkward (list up to eight of your friends) - what if they don't have eight friends to list? What if girls list others as their friends, and are not listed in return? Touchy, but hey, it's for the sake of science.

Anyways, I wasn't receiving any help in organizing this at Westridge. My job is to talk to the administrators, get the survey okayed, talk to teachers and find out when is best to give the survey, and then talk to my own teachers so that I can work out with them when I need to leave class to administer the survey. When talking to Dr. Goeree at Caltech, it seems easy. When alone and unaided at Westridge and faced with a slew of teachers who probably don't want to lose a lot of lesson time this close to the end of the year, as well as administrators who have bigger things to think about than a pesky little survey, it seems pretty daunting.

All week I've been feeling as though nothing will come of this, that my attempts to communicate with teachers and find out who is willing to give up lesson time, and whether the administrators will okay the survey, is all quite futile. I feel like I've been beating my head against a brick wall, simply because I don't know who to talk to, and I don't feel comfortable asking teachers for class time. And, well, no one's really making it easy. I'd really like someone to just tell me what to do and whom to talk to, but I guess that kind of defeats the purpose of getting older, and doing more independent work. I've committed to a tough project, which involves talking to a lot of administrators, being a diplomat of sorts between Caltech and my school. And that puts me way out of my element, which is actually something pretty valuable in the end, I suppose. I'd really rather just do research on mold spores, research which doesn't involve email after email after email trying to arrange and plan and organize. But here I am doing just that, and now that things are finally beginning to fall together (just beginning, knock on wood - I don't want to jinx it, since it's only just starting to look up!), it feel amazing. As it's not something I feel comfortable with, that I will have done it will be that much more exciting.

I've got the lower school surveys okayed, and am starting with them on Monday; I still have to work out the middle school surveys, which are slightly less important; and then, least important, the high school surveys. And so far I'm on schedule - I told Dr. Goeree at Caltech that I would try and start surveying next Monday, crossing my fingers behind my back. After all, that was pretty immediate for such late notice, and I wasn't sure if the administration would support me. I really expected to have to email him and tell him that I couldn't start for another week or so more. But lo and behold, gradually it's coming together. I have not let down Dr. Goeree, and I'm even happier about that than that it's working out - I feel proud that I haven't messed up, and that I'm holding my end opposite a Caltech professor.

This ant picture is from the space gel ant farm I got my mom for Christmas. It's pretty chill. When scientists sent ants up in space, they discovered that dirt just floated around and was no use for the ants, so they developed a clear blue-ish gel that serves as food, water and dirt for the ants, and does not float. I attached the picture to this post because those little gals are just so determined, so focused - they are distracted by nothing, even though their lives seem so pointless. I have a lot of admiration for them, and the steadfast way in which they tunnel deeper and deeper into the space gel, building a tiny, queenless colony. So, when I begin to feel overwhelmed, I suppose I can remind myself of these gals. No matter if anyone make it hard for me to do this survey, or if it's difficult to coordinate with all the teachers, I'll just plow on. After all, these ants do too, and in a significantly less exciting environment.

Photo shoot of my cat

2007-02-21T20:45:00.000-08:00

Because I spend way too much time taking pictures of her, instead of doing constructive things like getting scholarships and doing my homework...

Familiar scents

2007-02-21T18:37:00.000-08:00

I helped my friend develop a roll of film today after school. Well, I more of stood around and made wisecracks while being more or less unhelpful, but at least I was there for moral support and such. She's doing something photography-related for her senior project, which I'm now rather jealous of - I'm going to shadow a doctor, which at the moment seems a very scary and unfamiliar project. But anyway, coming home I smelled my hands and discovered the scent of the chemicals still clinging onto them. Inexplicably, one of my favorite scents has always been the smell of developer, which smells like the musty, heavy scent of bacon - it brings back all the summers I spent doing photography next to the woodworking shop at Poly, and then at Westridge... it's one of those scents that I can breathe really deeply to!

In other news, AAAH! When I forget to put everything into perspective, I suddenly feel as though the entire universe is pitted against me, and that it's mostly concentrated in the current and following week. Then I have something to eat, take a couple deep breaths, remind myself that it's okay if things don't work out, that all I have are a few assignments which can each easily be done; it's okay if I make mistakes and if not everything I do is perfect. And once I do that, once I remind myself to enjoy instead of stress, I feel better about this week. I've foolishly committed to a few things, which I didn't realize would require so much work as they do, but it's not the end of the world. Everything's cool.

And even better with the sense of calm I always get from the darkroom :)

The right to debate

2007-02-18T11:06:00.000-08:00

It's a sad democracy when we can't even debate a highly contested war in the Senate. Though a majority of the Senate is in favor of debating the war, they are four votes short of 60 (it's 56 for and 34 against), and can't debate something that is relevant to our lives. Obviously the 60-majority rule is so that the Senate won't debate stupid things like how to redesign the lawn at Camp David, but there is something wrong with it if it also precludes the discussion of a monumentally important topic such as the war, which does affect everyone in the country. It isn't appropriate to not discuss something of national relevance! The argument the Republicans are making is hardly valid - they say that it hinders the president's agenda in Iraq to stop and debate the war, but if the majority of the American people does not support the war then why should we bow down to the president's agenda? If the point of patriotism is to not get in the way of the president's agenda, then how is that not leaning toward dictatorship? The definition of democracy is rule by the people, and when the people don't even have the right to stand up and dissent, then that is not a real democracy.

And the growing hype surrounding Iran disgusts me. We have no excuse to fight with or invade Iran, but I'm scared that that is next on Mr. Bush's agenda. This reminds me of the gradual frenzy surrounding Iraq four years ago, as "evidence" slowly began to come to light to implicate them as accessories to terrorism (because all terrorism ever has originated from Iraq), and despite the lack of facts or proof, the American people got so caught up in the scare that they immediately supported a war. I'm worried that that could happen again with Iran, but incredulous that the administration would even try it again. I hope they don't.

Because it was rainy

2007-02-12T22:13:00.000-08:00

Ack! Another parking ticket. My mom said comfortingly, "There's something awful about parking tickets, that really hurts even when you know it's not that big a deal." It's kind of true, I've got to say. I was in a pretty good mood especially considering I hadn't eaten much all day and had worked three hours at the cafe all alone (without prior warning from my boss, I might add!), and was headed home to finish a long essay; and there on the windshield, tucked nicely under the wiper, was a parking ticket. I muttered a few expletives under my breath, nonchalantly snatched the ticket off my windshield, and huffily got into my car, where all at once I wanted to cry. I was in the wrong; I had only filled the meter for two hours and forty five minutes even though I knew I would be at work for three and a half hours; and I knew my blood sugar was low and this certainly wasn't the end of the world. But it felt awful! It felt like a pointed attack on me after a long day, and however I reminded myself that that wasn't true, it still felt vicious.

I've eaten now, and have a mug of hot chocolate, and have made relatively good progress on my paper (which means that I now have to procrastinate and blog and such until it's late enough for me to be spurred to start working again), and I feel significantly better about the parking ticket. It isn't the end of the world. I was overly dramatic, and tired. Last time I got a parking ticket was because of my own stupidity - I simply forgot about the meter. But this time it was merely bad luck, and that actually feels more bearable - what happened was, I could only put in up to two hours of coins at a time, so I went out twice to the meter to fill it; then I was left alone at the cafe and couldn't leave again to put more coins in the meter, and I hoped that it would go unnoticed in the dark.

Of course, that only worked in the dead of winter, when it was dark by six. Now it is still light enough to see a blinking meter. Let this be a lesson to me in the future. And now.... back to work.

Mathematics, Art Shows and Such

2007-02-02T23:42:00.000-08:00

Happy February!

I started off my celebration of the month with a Thursday. It was pretty chill.

Today I met with Caltech game theorist Jacob Goeree to discuss a project that he conducted last year and wants to conduct again: at Westridge he diagrammed the social networks of the fifth and sixth grades, and then presented them with questions based on those networks. For example, he would ask a student, if given $6, how she would split it between herself and a friend; between herself and a friend of a friend; and between herself and a person whom she didn't consider a friend.

Then the girls actually get paid the amount that they were willing to share times two, or something like that, so they end up profiting from their generosity. Sweet mind game.

Anyways, I'm pretty psyched because I'm back on the Caltech campus after years, and doing something fascinating in the same area of study that my dad was in; and in fact Jacob Goeree met my father and me, while on sabbatical to Caltech about ten years ago! He works at Caltech permanently now, but at the time he was visiting from the Netherlands, I believe, and he came over to our house one night for dinner. He said he remembers three things: first, that my dad gave him the wrong address, so he couldn't find our house for ages; second, our sweet solar cooker; and third, our weather station. What can I say, my parents are geeks.

Aaand, I returned to Altadena to go to the local art show with Elise, and had an absolutely splendid time. There were two memorable parts to the evening, one bad, one good. The first is that I saw someone whom I'd previously met and liked a great deal - not at the art show - but rather at work. This is the third time I've sort of randomly run into him, and it's getting kind of uncomfortable. The first time I met him I liked him a lot; the second time I started to think that there must be some amount of serendipity on the air, because I hadn't expected ever to run into him again. And after that I kept expecting to randomly run into him somewhere, but since I never did, I certainly didn't expect to find him up in Altadena at the Gallery at the End of the World. It was something of a shock, and I spent quite a bit of time hiding from him, which I don't think I've actually done since the middle school dances...

But as for the fun part, Elise and I rather out of the blue met a wonderful batch of people. All smokers and drinkers, alas (we politely refrained), but brilliant and thoughtful and motivating. Our conversation quickly moved to politics, and it was one of those satisfying political conversations where everyone has really interesting and varied things to say, but nothing that you strongly disagree with. I'm guessing there were few conservatives at the art gallery. It strikes me as that kind of place that attracts mostly liberals. But unfortunately being liberal and artsy also seems to entail smoking, and so now, even though I've never touched a cigarette, I smell ridiculously like smoke. Good thing my mom didn't stand by to smell me when I came in the door...

May Yahoo! die impoverished

2007-01-30T18:58:00.000-08:00

It may not seem like a hard decision, but it hurts. I've been a loyal Flickr user for the past three years, and somewhere between its simple design and sensible offerings it has won my heart. The entirety of my year in Italy I posted photos to Flickr, and it became a source of connection between myself and my friends and mother at home. So it's a matter of sentimental value; and I'm fond of it as one of the few really decent interactive websites I've encountered.

Today I received an email which read:

Dear Old Skool Account-Holding Flickr Member,
On March 15th we'll be discontinuing the old email-based Flickr sign in system. From that point on, everyone will have to use a Yahoo! ID to sign in to Flickr....
You can make the switch at any time in the next few months, from today till the 15th. (After that day, you'll be required to merge before you continue using your account.)
Thanks for your patience and understanding - and even bigger thanks for your continued support of Flickr: if you're reading this, you've been around for a while and that means a lot to us!
Warmest regards,
- The Flickreenos

And now Yahoo! has taken the place of Satan in my mind. I despise Yahoo!, I despise its takeover of Flicker, I despise the fact that it intends to coerce all Flickr members to join Yahoo! by buying out the company and then making our Flickr IDs invalid. This is unforgivably manipulative, but I think it's also the kind of capitalist behavior that dominates our society. Win, conquer, eliminate. Yahoo! wasn't wealthy enough, apparently - but are you ever really wealthy enough in this hyper-competitive society?

So the hard decision that I'm going to have to make is this: will I leave Flickr in order to boycott Yahoo!, or will I stand by Flickr despite the Yahoo! takeover? I hate the idea of my support and (currently) my money going toward Yahoo!, so at the moment I'm leaning toward the former. But the idea of leaving Flickr is really kind of sad. I have till March 15th to decide, though, I guess.

And honestly, can we talk about how obnoxious it is that Yahoo! has an exclamation point in the name? That's so self-glamorizing, and frankly, it's just stupid.

Did I mention?

2007-01-29T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm a second semester senior! And I don't have to go to school tomorrow till 9:20. Psych!

Scholarship HELL

2007-01-28T23:28:00.000-08:00

I'm listening to Wolves by Josh Ritter, perching my laptop precariously on my knees as my cat purrs and drools on my hands, and writhes in my lap in search of a friendly pat. I have learned, however, that the best way to interact with her is to ignore all advances - if I pet her, she will be very happy for a few minutes, but then turn suddenly and inexplicably to claw my arm (I have teeth marks still embedded in my arm from this morning)

I spent the day looking for scholarships. Well, actually I've spent the last 24 hours or so just having a ball, and the scholarships bomb was actually only a small part of it. I went to see...... a movie for which I desperately hope I won't be judged, and can I just say in my defense that Kal Penn is REALLY CUTE and he was totally good in White Castle and is totally good in this movie, or would be if it were halfway good. But it's an excellent poke at modern culture in general, I suppose. I'm not even going to say it, though. I'm too embarrassed. So I went to see that with Elise, and we went out to Starbucks afterwards, the one next to the Blockbuster's which I accidentally put out of business. Did I mention that? I had a movie overdue, and so, despising big name corporations, I decided to ignore the notices that arrived persistently every few weeks, reminding me of my $10.81 fee. My logic was that I could pay that fee any time in the future, EVER, and the embarrassment I'd feel then ("You've had this movie out for three years?" "Yeah.... Yeah, I have.") would be my punishment. Not so. We got a very nice letter from Blockbuster's lawyers, stating that they understood that we may have overlooked this fee, and that if we failed to pay it by the end of the month, it would go on my mom's credit record. Did I mention our Blockbuster's card is under her name? So I took a check down to Blockbuster's to finally and embarrassedly pay them back... only to discover that my friendly neighborhood Blockbuster's HAS GONE OUT OF BUSINESS! And I can't help feeling that it's somehow my fault...

So anyway, Elise and I were hanging in the Starbucks next door when in came two friends, quite out of the blue - so we adjourned to a larger corner table and stayed till Starbucks asked us to leave so they could please go home (at about 11:30). Elise and I headed over to another Blockbuster's (so much less convenient!), picked up The Goonies and returned to my house to watch Sean Astin appreciatively. It was a perfect sort of sleepover, where we talked for an hour or two after turning out the lights, and fell asleep rather simultaneously... and woke up (reluctantly) at more or less the same time, unusual for us as I'm an early riser and Elise is the Queen of Sleep. After parting ways for a grand five hours, we met up again to get groceries for a delicious and fun dinner at a friend's house. It's a dinner party we have every now and again, with seven of us, and it's absolutely brilliant. The company is so phenomenal, and the food is always great. Last time the other girls cooked; this time Elise and I helped. I made spinach gnocchi in three-cheese sauce, though it technically ended up being two-cheese because we forgot to put Parmesan on top; it had Fontina and Gorgonzola, and was excellent, if I do say so myself! I actually didn't think it was that great because of my total aversion to cheese, but the gnocchi were light and fluffy and there was just the right amount of spinach to balance out the flavor of sheer carbs that pasta exudes. And at least a few others liked it, so hurrah! A success. I'll post up the recipe sometime. It's one of the Italian recipes I picked up at my cooking class in Italy.

It was in those five hours between hanging out with Elise that I looked at scholarships, and those were definitely the most depressing five hours of my weekend so far. Pretty much all the scholarships seem to ask for people who "show leadership" or are intensively dedicated to community service (I tutor every week at Hillsides, which I guess counts.... but I feel like the scholarships are looking for someone who actively pursues community service at every turn) or are a minority. So after feeling really bad about my ability to be a leader (I AM A SHEEP. Baaaa.), and the fact that I only dedicate an hour per week to community service and haven't gone to Union Station in months because I always end up being tied up at the last minute, and the fact that I am the following VERY WHITE minorities: Irish, Scottish, German, Polish, Ukrainian, and Viking; after all that negative energy regarding my identity and the feeling that I don't try hard enough, or am not unfortunate enough, I said "Screw this!" and had an epiphany. I googled writing scholarships, and BABY, I am going to try and win one of those copious writing contests! Because that is something I love to do, I would actually be happy taking part in such a scholarship, plus it would feel more like a project than an extension of college apps. And hey, I've just started a cool new story! Who knows where it'll go.... but it could feed a contest that wins me college money!

One of the scholarships that rather irked me was an essay about having a parent die, and the psychological repercussions. It's funded by Life Insurance. There's just something about that that seems to define the awful level of competition in scholarships nowadays. Even something really awful, like a parent dying, becomes competitive - "how much money can I earn for my assessment of that awful experience?"

Blagh! The cat has drooled on the mousepad. How typical. But meanwhile it is definitely time for me to go to bed. I'm getting up early tomorrow!

A Scrabble game masterpiece

2007-01-27T10:06:00.000-08:00

A lovely game of Scrabble between Elise, Cel, Marisa and myself which gradually progressed from rule-abiding to creatively enhanced, with debatably non-existent words.

I dreamt that I was at St Andrews already last night, picking classes, and it was exciting!

I can't wait...

Boo-yah!

2007-01-27T09:34:00.000-08:00

I have officially completed finals, and GOD IT FEELS GREAT. Calc and English were on Wednesday; as always I abhor English finals simply because I hate analyzing literature under a time limit, especially because I'm already a little skeptical of the whole analyzing-literature thing anyway. I mean, I love it on a larger scale - reading a book and discussing the metaphors and connections, but on a test I feel like you can really only spend time analyzing the minutiae. "That semicolon represents the speaker's disjointed, hurried thought process..." I mean, seriously. There's only so much syntax analysis that I can endure, especially hurriedly. But nevertheless it was alright, and then Calc.... wow, if anyone's read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (which you MUST, if you have not, because it's sheer brilliance), I felt like I'd just drunk a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, which I believe he describes "is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick." After coming out of the Calculus final I was quite unable to process thoughts, images, sentences... I felt like my brain had been beaten senseless with a lemon.

The weird thing is that I rather enjoyed the Calculus final.

I think it must be that my dad was a mathematician and I've inherited the "math gene", or perhaps it's just because he taught me math so young (I could do Algebra in 3rd grade!), but I LOVE MATH! I think it's brilliantly exciting, and there's nothing vague and interpretative about it. In Calculus, I've felt like everything I've ever learned, all those boring pointless equations I've been taught for the past eight years, has all been leading up to now. Everything comes together in Calculus! And if everything has come together in Calculus, then everything really came together on the Calculus final. I'm pretty sure we've never had any problems quite that complex in class - they seemed to be compilations of everything hard we'd done so far this year, and it took pretty much all my brain power and concentration to work through them. Hence the feeling that my brain had been beaten with something powerfully citrus-y. But I solved them, I'm sure - so despite the fact that I was running into walls I had that "runner's euphoria" that you feel when you've finished a hard race and not given up. It felt great!

Going into the English final after that was kind of a joke, however. I really hope my English teacher won't judge my essays, because I'm pretty sure they made no sense.

Thursday was Latin and US History, an "easy" day - that is, more relaxed. Latin was fine, though I hadn't studied much. Honestly, I didn't study intensively for any of my first four finals. Every night leading up to Friday I dedicated to Biology. AP Bio with the brilliant Dr. Tromp, the final I feared more than anything else. And it paid off! Of course I didn't get a 90% (ha, probably way less), but she's grading it AP style, which means that 65% and up is an A. Sweet! 104 multiple choice questions and two essays, and I actually felt prepared and, what's more, knowledgeable! Knowledgeable on a hard subject such as Biology is ALWAYS good.

And then I slept. I watched Psych with Elise, the one exception to my no-television rule of 2007 (which so far is going well, and feels great! When I used to watch TV too much I always felt stupid and wished for an excuse to just get up and walk away - an excuse other than homework. But this resolution is the perfect excuse, and I've been reading more, writing more.... maybe not doing homework more, but HEY. I'm a second-semester senior, y'all, and what? Homework? Hahaha.).

So yeah. I survived Finals week much to my delight and surprise. A week ago all I felt was a pit of terror in my stomach going into finals, and that resilient and undesired thought in the back of my mind, "if I broke my leg, would I still have to take finals?" But I did not break my leg, and I went into finals reluctantly and fearfully, and I LIVED!

Have a good week, everybody!

Real Weather Alert!

2007-01-20T21:51:00.000-08:00

It's snowing in St Andrews!

Small world!

2007-01-20T18:33:00.000-08:00

So it turns out that my boss's sister worked at the day care I used to go to, across the street from Caltech. The day care is called CEC (Child Educational Center) and defined the better part of my childhood. While my dad worked at Caltech I would run around and do arts and crafts and play at the park a block away with CEC; on the best days during the summer we even got to walk two blocks (a substantial journey to a kid) to the Caltech pool where we'd swim and run along the edge of the pool despite numerous warnings from the lifeguard. Once, I recall, I forgot my swimsuit, and my friend Thea offered me her clothes, saying she didn't mind if I got them wet; well, it was a tie-dyed shirt, and in the pool the dye started to come out, and the lifeguard marched over to stand above me on the edge of the pool with a formidable air, asking me to please get out.

But glorious sunny days at the pool aside, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! I was standing at the register, about an hour and a half into my shift, when my boss's sister came in with her friend; she gave my boss a bubbly greeting and then turned to introduce herself to me. With a pause, she asked, "What's your name?" I told her, and when she repeated it slowly, I added "Same as the street - Holly." "And how old are you now?" she asked. "I'm 17," I answered, wondering why that mattered (that pesky nervous voice in the back of my mind wondered for a split second if she was going to call me on the fact that I haven't got a work permit). "Wow," she said, "I knew you looked familiar. I worked at CEC when you were there, Holly."

Wow, indeed! I racked my brain for memories, and only remembered Diana, the other woman who worked there - and the only thing I remember about her is a rather awful story she once told us kids, of a time when she was wearing gold hoop earrings and some rotten passerby literally ripped one out of her ear. To this day I still have a terrible fear of wearing hoops because of that story.... But for all that I try, I cannot conjure up Elmida -that's her name- in my memory! But she remembered me, she remembered my parents, and -this one's the clincher- she remembered the time that Thea Wade broke out.

That was actually a pretty funny story. Thea's mother was a professor at Caltech, just across the street, and one summer when Thea was bored of the activites that CEC had to offer she decided to run away across the street to find her mother. (I should point out that the street between Caltech and CEC, Del Mar, is pretty busy). Thea developed a very elaborate plan, which began with her breaking out of one of the back windows... which she did. She used a pair of those blunt, plastic-handled scissors you'll find in any preschool, and quite literally cut open the screen, and climbed out. I had promised to go with her but chickened out at the last moment; so I remained behind, the sole witness to Thea's escapade. As it turned out, she just went next door and played with the neighbor's dogs for an hour or two, and I think she eventually came back of her own accord. But it prompted a sit-down talk about respecting school property (ie, window screens), and personal safety (ie crossing a busy street) for all of us, and Thea was closely watched thereafter. Not so exciting an ending as such antics deserve, I know... I always sort of wished she'd been able to successfully reach Caltech and her mother just for hilarity's sake.

But yeah! Small world, that I'd be working for Elmida's family ten years later! It was also sort of wonderful to be able to say, "Hey, do you remember the time that Thea Wade broke out of the window?"

Extreme Weather!

2007-01-18T22:14:00.000-08:00

AAAH! The wind is insane right now! I'm sitting in the living room with my mom, and we're both being lazy and reading (well, she's reading and I'm being lazy), and every few seconds we both perk our heads to listen as a huge new gust of wind roars past the house, literally rattling the window panes and making the house creak and resettle on its old foundation. And with each new gust we both laugh rather helplessly at the sheer ferocity of the wind. Funny, it's pretty much our most extreme weather of the year, and it's just as unnerving, I think, as any other sort of storm could be. Occasionally the lights flicker as a power line falters, or the cold begins to seep around the doors. With particularly strong gusts I can feel the air from the nearest doorway, which has somehow wormed its way in through the cracks.

So here we are, cozy but unsettled, listening to our house stand up courageously to the wind.

Spiteful feline

2007-01-18T19:42:00.000-08:00

Now for the fun part

2007-01-18T19:01:00.000-08:00

So the search begins. Scholarships. I feel an inexplicable aversion to the entire process, but I'm sure it's no more than I felt with regard to college apps, and I've finished those with no glitches. There's something that I can't quite put my finger on, though, that seems manipulative about the whole thing. I have money for all four years of college thanks to the college fund that my dad left me, and maybe it will even prove enough to start me on grad school - so why should I try to get various organizations to give me more money? What about all the people who actually need that money? My mom reminds me that I'll want money for travel and my own purposes, but it seems wrong to get scholarship money that will eventually just pay for trips... I'd rather work hard in a job that means something to me and get the money by my own means, not just because of my GPA and SATs and an essay that doesn't necessarily show who I am.

At the same time, I feel like I owe it to my mother to apply for some scholarships, because that means she'll have to pay less up front before I'm 18 and can access the college money my dad left me. It's my mom who's encouraging me to apply for scholarships, and while it seems like a hateful, unfair process I know I'll be glad to get some money in the end. And my mom will be glad, and anything that can keep her from worrying about my future is always a bonus.

New Camera, Old Cat

2007-01-14T20:04:00.000-08:00

The other day Marisa was petting her, and after a while she snapped at Marisa's hand; when I reached out to pet her she made a great show of sniffing my hand and, when she'd decided that I was indeed the right person, she purred and rubbed her head against my fingers. Quite effectively rebuffing any and all foreign contact, it would seem.

As for the new camera, it's a Canon Rebel XT and I love it more than I ever thought I could. It's silent and professional and has just enough weight to convey a sense of importance; and it takes stunning pictures, it allows for much more experimentation with focusing and lighting, what with completely manual setting; and in my dad's photo bag is a long-unused Canon telephoto lens which clicks beautifully into place when I swap it with the 18-55 mm lens that came with my camera. It's pretty much almost worth the obscene amount of money that it cost, and anyway I wouldn't be parted with it now, even after one day of being able to hold it and use it.

Back to my Scottish Roots, most certainly!

2007-01-14T18:40:00.000-08:00

I feel excited and impatient and nervous and eager... I feel happier than I ever expected, just so honestly content and delighted and surprised to have been accepted by St Andrews. So now the big decision - to withdraw my other applications? I have applied to Reed, Macalester, Swarthmore and Middlebury, and at the moment I don't want to be at a single one so long as St Andrews is another option. They're excellent schools, and half of me wants to let the applications finish just to see if I could get in. After all, I wrote a kind of goofy essay for the Common App, and my ego wants to know if the wittiness made for a good and acceptable application.

However, Marisa's words were harsh: "Is your pride," she asked me, "worth another person's place?"

I hope not! It seems so harmless to leave my applications open, and yet if everyone were to do that it would skew the odds awfully. Everyone does do that already -that is, apply to eleventeen schools "just in case"- and that is the reason that the application process has become such a competition now, for which people are clamoring for a solution.

I know that I'm going to St Andrews. I have no good reason to wait for my other applications, except -as Marisa said- for my pride, and that is utterly unnecessary. So I think I will take a bold step, and withdraw my applications over the next few weeks (I'll take my time because my mother seems quite adverse to the idea of me doing that). There's something refreshing about knowing where I want to go, feeling so certain and excited about this choice.

The second time I've ever cried for happiness

2007-01-10T18:02:00.001-08:00

I woke up at five this morning with a pit of nervousness in my stomach. Turning over, I tried to go back to sleep, jolting awake again every few minutes. By the time my alarm went off at 6:45 I was wide awake, and I rolled stiffly out of bed with an immediacy not present on most school mornings. I dressed and put in my lucky parrot earrings, though I wouldn't have to leave the house for another half hour. You see, I was about to find out about college.

It's the University of St Andrews, in Scotland, which makes the time difference eight hours; when I called at seven am it was three in the afternoon for them. I dialed the call first on my phone card, and was informed that I had only three minutes remaining - too few, I decided, to hear my fate. Dialing the international number straight into my home phone, I sat with bated breath - and was informed I would need a credit card to make the call. So I picked up my phone card again, hoping desperately that I would be able to make the call in a mere three minutes or less.

It rang once. It rang again. An automated British voice answered, listing options in a tired voice. "Stay on the line to speak to an admissions officer," the voice concluded, and the line went silent for what seemed interminably long. My digital clock silently ticked from 6:57 to 6:58. Finally, after what seemed far too long, an admissions officer picked up the phone, and with relief I told her my name, asking after the status of my application. Precisely then, the Sprint voice said cheerfully, "You have two minutes remaining." On the other end, the woman for whom I'd been spelling my name said, "I'm sorry, could you spell it again? I think we've got a bad connection." Trying to think calm thoughts, I spelled it out again M-C-K-E-L-V-E-Y... "Wait just a moment," she replied. "I'll find your file." I looked at the digital clock, which now said 6:59. I felt vaguely frantic. "I'm going to hand you over to someone else," the woman told me, coming back on the line, and I instantly felt foolish for having attempted to make the call on just three minutes. Of course there wouldn't be enough time.

"Hello," said a familiar voice cheerfully. The woman to whom I spoke last month, the same woman who told me to call back on January 10th. "Holly, right? Your name sounds familiar." I began to remind her that it was because I'd called a month ago, asking after my application, but was interrupted by the Sprint voice. "You have one minute remaining," it told me, and I bit the inside of my cheek frantically. Just tell me! I thought, panicked, trying as hard as I could to communicate telepathically, to somehow make the process go faster, make my file more easily accessible, something. "Well, Holly," she said after an endless moment during which I could practically hear the seconds ticking away, "you were made an offer yesterday, and your packet has been sent out this morning."

And that's how I was accepted to college in less than three minutes. I hung up the phone after copious "thank you's" on my part and a cheerful "Bye now!" from the admissions officer, and burst into tears. After a moment I felt rather silly, because the only other member of the family who was there to observe my goings-on was the cat, who regarded me rather superciliously; in front of her unblinking stare my emotional response began to feel silly, and so I sniffled into a kleenex for a moment, dried my eyes, and ran into my mother's room, with a huge "I got in!"

And it's a wonderful feeling. I'm into my first choice school, I'm soon to be a second semester senior, and I haven't a care in the world. And I got balloons!

Resolutions

2007-01-04T21:14:00.000-08:00

This year, 2007, I will read more; eat more healthily; stop watching television altogether; start papers and lengthy assignments early rather than the night before; follow the news more diligently; meet new people; be enthusiastic and eager and always curious; be tactful; be understanding; write more; appreciate little joys; put aside time to take beautiful photographs; travel; discover the hidden wonderful niches in Pasadena and Altadena, where I live; spend more time out of doors; try never to be self-pitying; fall in love.

When I was in Italy, my Greek teacher asked us if we had ever been in love. One or two people said yes, and the rest of us shrugged and said, "Not yet." So she gave us an assignment, which was to fall in love before leaving Italy. One of my classmates laughed skeptically and asked if falling in love with Italy counted. "Of course it does," she answered passionately. And in the end, Italy is what I fell in love with. The simple joys of being in Italy seduced me and swept me off my feet, so that even seven months later I still think of Italy constantly, miss being there, want to go back. But so long as I can remember every experience vividly, and recall the laughter and the train cars and the pastries and the pasta, then it's still close enough and real enough, and I'm still in love with all of it.

New Camera!

2007-01-03T20:50:00.000-08:00

I've been taking some pictures with my gorgeous Vivitar film camera, so I can't upload them; I'm getting back into the vibe of working with a manual camera, which is why I'm really psyched to have JUST ordered the Canon Rebel XT, manual-digital masterpiece! It should get here within the next couple weeks. Sooo, some of the 365-day photos are on the Vivitar, since it takes such gorgeous photos, but soon I'll be back in business with the digital! Psych =)

Also, just to be obnoxious, here's my COUNTDOWN TILL I FIND OUT ABOUT COLLEGE: 7 days!!!

Happy 2007!

2007-01-03T20:19:00.000-08:00

It took me a while to find this photo so I could upload it.... because I was looking for a folder called "New Year's" in the 2006 folder.

It always takes me a while to adjust. I really only got 2006 down last August or so. But woah! 2007! This is the year in which I graduate, the year in which I start college, which means... the rest of my life. Now, I suppose that's something of an overstatement, but I've always felt like life is pretty much divided into the pre-college years and the college & post-college years. Or perhaps more accurately, the live-at-home years, and the post-live-at-home years. Because growing up, of course I've lived at home. College is that huge godzilla-beast on the horizon (the one with the giant anvil that says work! career! all-nighters! caffeine!) that shows up on that day that always seems far far in the future when.... I move out.

I'll be able to come home during the holidays, and stay at home then; it's not to say that once I take my first step out the door into college-land that I can never come back again. But this is really the point, in American society at least, where kids start getting poked fun at if they're still living at home. In Italy, the kids stay at home till they get married in their 30s, and someone who moves out earlier than that is an unappreciative rebel who obviously doesn't love their family and their nonna's delicious home cooking enough. But here if you're still living at home after college, the response is more along the lines of, "Hello? Do you have a LIFE? Why aren't you out there pursuing your life calling and making a good name for career-oriented young women of the 21st century everywhere?"

I actually prefer the American system, though, for all that it's a little less sympathetic to late bloomers. It really pushes kids to get out there and do exciting things, and go far from home, whereas in Italy a lot of people end up living in the same town for their entire life. But it's kind of scary. I kind of feel like I wouldn't actually mind living close to home to go to college - for all of my life my mom's encouraged me to go as far away as I want, to not pick a college based on proximity to home. My mom's moving to Portland next year, though, which means that if I were to go to a college here in LA, close to home, I wouldn't be close to family. Then again I've applied to Reed in Portland, so I could go to school close to my most immediate family - however it wouldn't be close to home, because I've grown up here in Altadena/Pasadena my entire life.

But 2007! Despite the uncertainty and the slight nervousness regarding college, it's exciting! I'm looking forward to everything; I think it'll be an endlessly exciting year. I kicked off January 1st by driving down to Irvine to see my friend Deborah from SYA Italy. It was an hour-long drive which I made in 40 minutes due to exceptionally light traffic, and the first real road trip I've ever taken. It was a tad dull at first, not having anyone to talk to, but after a while I got caught up in how peaceful a morning it was; it really was gorgeous. The picture with this post isn't incredibly clear, but it's of the fog hanging over the freeway, completely filling the valley by Pomona, where I veered off the 210 onto the 57. And of course seeing Deborah was wonderful, and recalled excellent days in Italy; I had lunch with her family, who were all talkative and warm, and offered me as much delicious food as I could possibly eat. A good start to a good year!

So, Happy New Year! Be excellent to each other, dudes...

A photo a day

2006-12-29T20:27:00.000-08:00

On an aimless, wandering car ride with Marisa somewhere in the hills just north of Los Angeles, we came across this cleared away but as of yet undeveloped hill with an absolutely stunning view out to the city, and even further, just barely, to the ocean.

Does Taffy deserve a new bear next Christmas? Maybe just for cuteness' sake. There's something so adorable about watching her lovingly and playfully tear apart a toy.

What? Extreme weather in Los Angeles?

2006-12-28T10:08:00.000-08:00

It's been howling all morning; I woke up blearily and slowly to the sound of wind beating against the side of the house. Now I'm sitting in the den, watching the trees thrash outside and listening to the wind whistle in the chimney. Every few minutes an especially strong gust comes whooshing up from the canyon, bringing with it a cloud of dust from the neighbor's lovely construction project (read my article about my feelings for my neighbor at Overdue Karma, my friends' brilliant website of wittiness). The trees are bent nearly to the ground, the deck furniture has all been blown over and against the walls, and the cat is sitting cautiously by the window, flinching every time the wind roars.

Yeah, it's kinda scary, but I LOVE THIS WEATHER! I love it because I'm sitting inside where it's warm and I can't feel the wind, and I'm sipping hot chocolate and writing, cozy inside my house.

Elise versus Holly: a battle of wits

2006-12-25T22:22:00.000-08:00

Movies to watch this holiday season:

The Meaning of Life (aka Drool over Michael Palin)
Santa Claus Conquers the Martians
Wag the Dog
Edward Scissorhands (spelled Scizzorhands by Elise)
War Games
Holly: The Life & Times of a Genius and Her ~~Sidekick~~ Whiny Lapdog (Elise)
Elise: The Heartbreaking Drama/Comedy of a Heroic Genius Who Has To Put Up With Her Clumsy Arch-Rival Holly
Elise: The New Ricky ~~Bobby~~ Martin . . . The Girl Who Could Only Count to One - but then again, she only needed to, with her good looks - unfortunately it was a typical situation of looks excluding brains.
Elise: A Comedy
Hollyzilla: When Growth Hormones Go Wrong
Elise Conquers Her "Midget-Sized" Elf Esteem
Borat 2: Return to America With Wife (Holly) in Tow.
Elsie the Dyslexic Pigeon
Holly: Male ~~Modle~~ Model of the Year
Zoolander 2: Mugato Takes Wife (Elise)
Fruits and Nuts: The Holly Story
Frankenstein: Elise Rises Again
Holly: Bolivian Lumberjack
Meet Elise: A Day in the Petting Zoo
O Little Town of Bethlehem: Holly the Donkey Saves the Day
Holly and Elmer Go to White Castle (Elise didn't appreciate the genius of that one - Elmer is a combination of Elise and Kumar, duh!)
Holly's Brain: A Brain Surgeon's Comedy
Elise Blackbeard: The Diary of a Pirate's Wife
Deck the Halls: Holly Has a Bit Too Much Eggnog.
Elise Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
The Afterlife: Holly Watches From Below
Elise's Bosom: A Tragedy
Little Shop of Holly: Feed me, Seymour!
Elise's Web: A Talking Spider Saves a Lovable Talking Pig!
Holly's Bosom: A Tale of Two Molehills
Elise's Bosom: A Tale of Two Titties (rated R) (Elise's note: hey, I'm an A+ porn star)
Holly's Socks: A Deadly Obsession
Elise's Socks: a Deadly Color Combination
Holly's Hallucinations: Elise Isn't Wearing Socks
Charlie Brown Finally Wins . . . to Elise.
Holly the Snowman: Frosty Finally Finds Love

Edit: I just noticed that this is my 100th post since I started this blog back in July. At this rate I'll have a good 300 posts by next July! My goodness.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-25T22:01:00.000-08:00

It was a brilliant Christmas, with excellent gifts on both my mom's part and mine. I got wonderful thigh-high socks and my mom got that new wallet she needed. I got the Rosetta Stone program for Greek, and spent the better part of the afternoon learning Greek. It seems somewhat futile since it'll be ages before I'd be able to go to Greece - and yet it's still tremendously fun. I want learning languages to be part of who I am, and how better to make that come true than learn a language for no particular reason except that it seems fun?

So, I'm quite thrilled about that gift; my mother loved her space-age ant maze, which was a bit random... it's this container filled with blueish goo that ants can tunnel in - the idea is to get an ant colony started and then observe them through the transparent "dirt." There's absolutely no good reason that I got it for her, except that it seemed awesome and interesting, and she'll have enough free time on her hands now that she's quitting teaching to enjoy something as pointless as this.

We went over to Elise's for dinner, where Elise and I spent the evening being goofy and tormenting our parents by playing joke footsie under the table for most of the meal. We're mature like that. I finished my 1000 piece puzzle, which I got at Rite-aid the other day as a Christmas gift to myself; tomorrow I'm going to start tracking Christmas sales, and try and find a low-priced Canon Rebel XT. Time for a camera update, and I'm excited! Oh, and big news - I'm finally writing again! After ages, absolute ages.... well, I did give NaNoWriMo an earnest try, but failed miserably with only about 17,000 words to show for my attempt. I'm not sure whether to say that with sarcasm or not - 17,000 words is more than I've ever put into any other project, and yet it was about 33,000 words short of the 50,000 word goal of NaNoWriMo. A novel is no small beans, I discovered.

What I'm working on now is far short of novel material, but what's important is that I'm being creative again, something I haven't felt in ages with regards to my writing. Even the novel attempt felt stale, and that's why I couldn't bring myself to finish it. So let's hold our breaths for what may eventually turn into something presentable and -hopefully- wonderful!

So, all in all it is a brilliant Christmas. It's wonderful being home, but I'm excited for next year too, wherever I am. I assume I'll be here in sunny, wonderful California, but hey, vediamo - we'll see! Scotland calls...

Twas the night before Christmas

2006-12-24T19:48:00.000-08:00

Flashback....

2006-12-23T22:01:00.000-08:00

Today was uneventful, and so I have no photos to show for it, save for this one, which I took while sitting in front of my computer and working on my English project on Ralph Ellison's brilliant novel, Invisible Man - so brilliant, in fact, that I don't even feel particularly displeased at working on the project over break. It's due tomorrow evening, at any rate, and I've finished it for the most part, so it shouldn't bother me after tomorrow anyway.

I mailed a scarf and some photos to Armida today, making a hasty run to the post office at half past twelve to stand in an endless line. I included a packet of California poppies, which I nestled inside the scarf so that they're not immediately visible. The scarf is forest green; I knit it hastily last night, sitting in front of Under the Tuscan Sun, and trying to recall my own Tuscan adventures. I was in Siena four times - on a trip with Ryan and Aleja and Nancy in October, one of the first of many, many day trips in central Italy; with school, for the Thanksgiving trip to Florence; with my mom and Lynnette when they came for Christmas; and finally with Ani and her family when they came to visit me.

I've been elsewhere in Tuscany, but I feel so attached to Siena since I was there so often. At first it was something of a joke, since Ryan made such an effort to plan a day trip there, and then we ended up going with school. I guess he figured it was a waste to pay to go there when we would get a free ride with school just a month later. But I loved it so much, I didn't mind paying. In fact, it was because I loved it so much that I dragged my mom and Lynnette and Ani there later on in the year, simply because I wanted to go back again, to go to Nannini's, the best pasticceria north of Syracuse (and that one only wins because of its spectacular marzipan); to eat in the hidden restaurants that you'll find if you wander for long enough in the winding alleyways; to embrace the crowds in Piazza del Campo, which, after some initial skepticism, I've decided is beautiful enough to merit its reputation as best-preserved and most wonderful piazza in Italy.

In one of the little courtyards of Siena I met a handsome, soft-spoken Canadian who introduced himself and asked me, without skirting around the question at all, for my phone number. We talked for a long time, and I completely lost track of myself in his charm. When Lynnette asked me afterward what we'd talked about, I honestly couldn't remember anything but his face; he was that ridiculously dashing. I didn't see him again, as he went up to Northern Italy to do artwork while I was down in Viterbo, a full-time student. But I don't mind, because what was romantic and wonderful about the whole thing was entirely the moment. There was a violinist playing in the courtyard, and it was dusk. I thought he was Italian at first - he greeted me in Italian, asking if I spoke English. I was with my mom and Lynnette, but they faded away instantly, as did his parents. They all recognized and respected that we were just two teenagers in a foreign country, who had caught each other's eyes and smiled just so, and then of course we had to exchange a few words, and each know who the other was.

The best part was that when he asked me where I lived, I was able to say, "I live here."

Shuffle

2006-12-23T01:26:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting on the couch downstairs, with my dog stretched out next to me, curled against my hip. She's dreaming, and every few minutes she'll twitch or breathe harder, or stretch luxuriously in the space allowed her between my side and the end of the couch. I've got my iTunes library on shuffle, which is how I usually listen to it; that makes for an interesting selection of music. It's just now jumped from Joni Mitchell's "California" to "If You Were Gay" from Avenue Q to Queen. Shuffle helps to remind me of the music I've got hidden away in the cobwebby depths of my albums. If I play just one album, then I forget to listen to so much of the rest of my music. So I shuffle my songs, and it's refreshing. Always exciting to wait and see what will come up next.

Happy Solstice!

2006-12-21T20:56:00.000-08:00

I'm planning to get myself a new camera for Christmas, between the money I receive for Christmas and that which I have left over from teaching last summer. I'm eyeing the Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT SLR, which seems to be a favorite of Flickr users and certainly sounds like a wonderful camera. What I want is something between a sophisticated point-and-shoot, and a full-out manual. I have always loved photography, but I simply haven't got the time to develop photos. Most of what I loved was setting up a shot - figuring out the necessary settings, making the photo really perfect, with the right exposure and focus... But what I love about my little, beat-up Canon PowerShot SD110 is that I can put the photos straight onto my computer, edit them, view them - without the (albeit traditional) hassle of developing. So I'm seeking a compromise and the Rebel appears to be a lovely one. Here's to after-Christmas sales!

Today my mom and I baked a lemon meringue pie and made pie-crust cookies with sprinkles and sugar and cinnamon; we went over to her friend's house for a Solstice party, and had homemade bread and sipped wine all evening. The sun set at around 5:00, the earliest of the year - now the days will start getting longer, and I'm delighted. For all that I love cool, overcast days in the spring, I'm really honestly happy on the days that are sunny. That'll be one sacrifice of going North for college, I suppose. Shorter days, less sun. Oh dear. I suppose I'll think about that next year. On the bright side, that means more excuse for toasty fires to warm my toes in front of. I could live with that.

365 Days

2006-12-21T00:19:00.000-08:00

So I just discovered this project, and it seems awesome. I take an awful lot of photos anyway, so why couldn't I start taking one daily, one that in some small way encompasses what I accomplished that day? I can compound that with my goal of blogging daily or bi-daily, because then I'll have photos to post far more often than I do right now. I'll start with today's, December 20th, because I want to include this Christmas. I suppose I could wait till January 1st, a mere week and a half away.... but somehow I think it would be more charming to start on a day not quite lined up with the year. In a small, unobtrusive way it can take away from all the hype connected with the New Year.

I just snapped this photo in the kitchen. In the Senior Assembly today we were given daisies instead of the traditional candles, because obviously someone out there had the common sense not to trust us with fire in the new theater; when I got home with Elise and Cel in tow, I dropped my daisy on the counter next to my mother's fish tank, and it wasn't till later in the evening that I noticed that it was a rather neat contrast. And then a while later, after taking two Martinelli's bottles out of the fridge and leaving one on the counter, I saw that we'd inadvertently placed it right next to the daisy and the fish tank. It's the bottle that our tenant gave us, with a note taped to it.... everything was so green, and while the picture is cluttered and rather hastily taken, I like it. It's a good start to the next 365 days.

A lovely winter night

2006-12-18T22:18:00.000-08:00

80s themed and brilliantly organized, Winter Formal was absolutely grand. A marvelous time was had by all.

Snapshot

2006-12-18T22:13:00.000-08:00

Christmas time is coming!

2006-12-18T21:25:00.000-08:00

As you can see, Christmas time is here.

That means that the sky is sunny and the air is sharp and cold, and when I say cold I mean cold. You East Coasters may laugh, because 44 degrees is springtime weather, but my god is it freezing for Southern California! It's dry cold, which means that it sucks up your moisture and makes your lips and cuticles sore, and it seems to find its way around any scarf or through the knit of a sweater or through that gap between gloves and sleeves.

My goodness, is it cold; but that means it's beautiful. The air is sparkling and clear, and you can see the mountains all the way from the valley. When there are clouds they're so sharply contrasted against the sky, it's really stunning. This is ideal Christmas weather in California. It's gorgeous, and, like every other season I spend here, it reminds me why I love living here.

So, Christmas spirit abounds! We've got a brilliantly ornamented tree covered in lights, the mantle is decorated with our beer bottle reindeer and a Christmas santa countdown, not to mention a dozen other Christmas trinkets..... and the Balian mansion down the street is lit up for the holidays! It's definitely Christmas time.

Light in the Piazza

2006-12-10T21:40:00.000-08:00

Amazing musical. Amazing! Ani and Jean and I went into downtown LA last night to see Light in the Piazza at the Ahmanson. We bought tickets at the door, which was a huge gamble since it was the night before closing, slimming the chances that there would be tickets left over. But, lo and behold, there were, and we saw a spectacular Broadway musical..... for a mere twenty dollars.

So it was a magnificent success in that we arrived just in time, there were tickets still for sale and they were cheap, our seats were marvelous..... and the musical was incredible. It is half in Italian, and you have to concentrate pretty carefully to get everything that's going on, but that's what makes it wonderful. I understood most of the Italian, so I had an advantage - several of the songs and scenes are completely in Italian, between Fabrizio and his family, and a non-Italian speaker would have to rely on expressions and movements to understand what's going on. But perhaps just because I understood it, I LOVED IT. The mother in the musical, Margaret, spoke a little too softly at times, and Ani disliked the lighting, but those flaws seemed minor because the singing was so phenomenal.

Plus, every scene of the musical had me sighing and reminiscing, and promising myself that I'll go back to Italy as soon as possible. It wasn't all that realistic, but simply because I miss the romance of Italy so much right now, I was willing to believe and be drawn in by Clara's and Fabrizio's whirlwind romance. Oh, dear, I'd better get back to Italy soon, because the more I think about it the more I idealize it, and quite frankly, the reality is better! The dirty streets and the hot, dusty weather, and the whiff of baked goods that permeates the air, and the Italian voices arguing, and the passeggiata with families and elderly singles strolling, and the lingerie shops on every corner, the gelato, the piazzas lined with little restaurants....

Mi manca Italia!

Update on life

2006-12-10T21:13:00.000-08:00

So I definitely didn't end up getting the job on Thursday, since my schedule is so screwy, and the proprietor of the cafe needs someone who can work during the day next semester. Recap: I have school. High school. I am not allowed to EVER skip classes, nor would I choose to (not even for a wonderful job with sexy customers). So I resigned myself to the fact that I will never be able to work since Westridge is on a 6-day schedule which lightens my workload and destroys all prospects of a job. But when I showed up for the Italian conversation group on Saturday, the proprietor (we'll call him Bob) not only remembered my name (always a plus in a future boss), but said, "I want you to be able to work here, so why don't you email me your schedule and we'll try to work around it?"

No way! I should mention that I had a dream that basically went EXACTLY LIKE THAT on Thursday night, after coming home bleeding and rejected from the un-job. So obviously I am prophetic, and even more obviously, I am extremely lucky! So I might (fingers crossed very very much!) start on Tuesday, though we've already had a bit of a scheduling bump.... Bob asked me to come in at 2:30, which is exactly 35 minutes before my AP Biology class ends, so I emailed him back politely asking if I could please come in at 3:15 instead. So, vediamo, we'll see, I could actually just maybe have a job! And money to travel. And to buy a new pair of shoes....

But most importantly, LIFE OUTSIDE OF WESTRIDGE! Though I am glad to say that, having been away from Westridge for a year, I have a lot more appreciation for it than I did before leaving for Italy. It's a great school, a bubble admittedly, but a great school. But that doesn't keep me from being very delighted to find little social circles outside it. My Italian group, for instance, is marvelous - all the other members are much older, but they're so parent-like to me! I absolutely adore all of them, because they always ask how my college apps are going and what I did last week and would I like a cookie?

So, fingers crossed for a job!

Finalmente!

2006-12-06T16:18:00.000-08:00

I've got the job! I start tomorrow at 5:00, learning to make the drinks and sandwiches and stuff. I have been way more stressed than I needed to be about getting this job - no one reason in particular, just that I love the cafe, I love the vibe, I need a job and this is a better one than some of the others I've pursued. So, it's kind of a relief to finally have been hired! Now let's see about college...

Hype

2006-12-04T21:35:00.000-08:00

After a year of living in Italy, I would have thought I'd learned.... but apparently I never realized that a double espresso stays in my system for over 5 hours. So here I am, it's 9:30 and I'm drumming my fingers impatiently and tapping my foot, because it's too early and I'm too wired to go to sleep, but I've finished all my homework and have nothing to do. The ride home from tutoring was endless, because it was all I could do to keep my speed below 35, and try not to race the cars around me. But, coupled with the caffeine rush: an adrenaline rush! I went to 'Hey, That's Amore' to do my homework tonight, the Italian cafe where I meet for my weekly Italian conversation group: not only did the cute (but unavailable) artist remember me, but the new owner of the cafe is marvelously nice... so, on a whim I asked if they are hiring - and he asked me to sit down for an interview! So, vediamo, I may be employed within the week, and have a means for saving up for an exciting, travel-filled summer! Not to mention it's a wonderful place to work, and the people all seem marvelous.... oh, I hope, I hope, I hope I get the job!

Further photo mania (also Morro Bay)

2006-12-02T23:26:00.000-08:00

And because I just love posting pictures way too much, here are two from Morro Bay, where my mom and I stayed after Thanksgiving. That's Morro Rock in the background of the first photo - it is the center of a now-deceased volcano that was worn away over the millennia, leaving only its rock core. Spiffy, eh?

My Beloved Golden State

2006-12-02T23:11:00.000-08:00

My gorgeous California, in the hills between the ocean and the Central Valley. My mom and I drove up to Morro Bay on main highways, then took wending, winding roads back through the golden hills, roads that twisted endlessly or stretched out as far as one could see into the hazy golden distance. Something about being in this state that makes me want to be here - I was talking with Ani about this today, and we both agreed that we want to go places, want to travel and explore and see new places, but no matter where we go, we're Californians at heart. We'll always end up back here. I know that's true for me because of the overwhelming sense of coming home I felt as the plane from NY landed at LAX, bringing my sojourn in Italy to a close. But even though I had left Italy, it took months for me to really start to long to go back, because I was so happy to be home in this place. This golden, mountainous, hilly, smoggy place that is full of faults and still perfectly wonderful simply because it's home.

Haha. Faults, get it?...... earthquake joke. We're all geeks and weirdos over here in Cali.

Artists everywhere!

2006-12-02T22:56:00.000-08:00

Two big events (other than that I got through the week! and went to LA today! and am going to sleep till about 11:00 tomorrow....) that are significant in the last 24 hours.

First: an art show! Elise and I went to a small art gallery on the opening night of a new show, since it is up here in Altadena close to where we both live. We figured we should get to know the grand old city of Altadena better, and this is one of the first steps we've taken. So we showed up at precisely 7:00, with me having decided to wear my wonderfully high red heels, and proceeded to have an AMAZING TIME! The gallery is a whimsical little grotto with two small rooms that display the art; outside the patio is partially open so that you can look up at the sky, and partially grown over by ageless vines so that you can hardly even see the moon through the weave of branches. Scattered in different corners of the grotto are little love seats, hidden away so that if you sit down to have a drink or talk to someone it feels like you're in your own little world. Well, we met wonderfully interesting and talkative people: one had written a book about Shakespeare and dogs, combining his two passions in life, and another book about Buddhism in Shakespeare's work; one was a witty, gracious ex-hippy whom his Indian friend called "guru," who had grown up a Buddhist and was planning a trip to India next summer (and with whom I would absolutely fall head over heels in love if only he were 30 years younger); a politician who gave us both jovial, tipsy hugs because Elise had her "Let's Hug" pin on; and some very nice young men.

So.... back for more awesome artsiness, anyone?

The next significant event in my life is that the Italian conversation group I go to had a near-death experience! (This would be a HORRIFIC event - I depend on my weekly dosage of Italian to get through each week.) The cafe we have traditionally met at was sold last week, to everyone's total surprise. I myself was horrified at the idea of the cafe, 'Hey, That's Amore', becoming less Italian. Honestly, given a choice between non-Italian and Italian, how could you choose non-italian??? So the Italian conversation group decided that we would have a final meeting at the cafe, decide where we'll meet in the future, and bid goodbye to the place of many laughs. I was two hours late to the meeting, as I'd been rockin' out in downtown LA with Ani.... but I got there in the end, just as most people were leaving. But a couple of us stayed on to chat for a while longer, and they told me the good news: we can continue to meet at the cafe, even if it changes, becomes un-Italian, is ripped and torn away from its previous beloved identity. Good-ish news, anyway. At least the Italian convo group shall continue in its former glory. So I asked, "Who is this new owner, anyway?" Answer, anyone? By sheer coincidence (or maybe not....), it is the terribly sexy artist I met at an art show at the cafe three or four weeks ago, a young man whom I liked very much - but who, unfortunately, is unavailable, and APPARENTLY also the guy who BOUGHT THE CAFE.... small world? Though I suppose the art show he had at the cafe may have been a nicety after he'd already purchased it, a way of making the new place his own (with lovely artwork!). Who knows, maybe he held the art show and decided that he liked the cafe so much he should have it for himself.

I'd love to have a cafe for myself some day. The handsome guru of the Altadena art show was talking about opening up a bar in India one day. Wouldn't that be a dream? Maybe a little coffee shop in Umbria or Tuscania of Italy, a little shop with biscotti and espresso, and cheese and vino.... Or maybe a cafe down in Sicily, a little coffee shop in Agrigento, nestled away in the heart of the city, with marzipan and other tasty pastries. Che bello!...

Happy Thanksgiving!

2006-11-23T15:54:00.000-08:00

All this from a girl who is incredibly happy to be having Thanksgiving at home! Much though I miss Italy and think about it every moment of every day, Thanksgiving just isn't the same anywhere but home. Check out my last Thanksgiving on my old blog (as you can see, I was still wrestling with some major design issues); we had an abundance of Thanksgiving spirit, we tried hard, and we made a delicious feast. But today as I stood over the pot of mashed potatoes and marveled over the sheer fluffiness, I realized that Thanksgiving is quintessentially American. It's a have-at-home kind of holiday. And since I probably won't come home for Thanksgiving regularly in the future, it's especially special this year. Not to mention delicious, and filled with real pies, an actual turkey (sans Avian flu), and lots and lots of mashed potatoes. So, a very, very wonderful Thanksgiving.

Entitled much?

2006-11-22T12:08:00.000-08:00

I'm sure it could fit into one space. But that would defeat the entire purpose, of course. Why own a Hummer unless you intend to show it off? Or hey, restore your manhood, I believe are the exact words of the commercial. Ah, Hummer owners. I just don't understand the urge to drive something so big and self-centered and, quite frankly, hideous. But, good news! As of 2007, Hummers will be discontinued. Seems someone finally realized that Hummers are a huge fossil fuel burner, and WOW, we're running out of fossil fuel! So, the end of Hummers. Personally, I'm holding out for the introduction of Smart Cars to the US. Just picture it! Smart Cars everywhere! Sheer brilliance, the person who invented Smart Cars.

Break

2006-11-22T11:19:00.000-08:00

It's Thanksgiving break, and I have all week off from school. I'm enjoying the free time by working on college apps (I sent in my St Andrews app yesterday!), searching for a job, watching movies, going for hikes, and sleeping in late. So, some fun, some work, and a lot of laziness. I went for a hike on Monday with the Westridge hiking club, and Taffy came along. As usual, she went nuts in the water, running through the streams, and not leaving the pond at the base of the waterfall. She was sopping wet after only a few minutes of chasing sticks, and again and again came out of the water to shake all over us.

She's such a cutie!

We're back on track!

2006-11-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

Sitting avidly in front of the news last night, I pretty much burst into tears when Tennessee went to the Republican candidate. The house had already gone to the Democrats (Nancy Pelosi! woot!!), and it all really weighed on the Senate. 49 Republicans, 48 Democrats, three states still counting: Missouri, Montana and Virginia. Democrats needed all three to get the Senate. Otherwise Cheney's vote would be the deciding vote on most matters...... a thought too terrifying to even ponder for very long.

I stayed up late, waiting for the last votes to be counted. When I started in sniffle every couple minutes at the prospect of a Republican senate (and an abysmally blind American people), I realized that I needed to go to sleep. I would have to wait till the next morning to learn the (possibly terrible) election outcome. But, there was little profit from waiting: this morning Montana and Virginia were still undecided. Down to two states, and Democrats needed both. And I still had to go to school. But - good news! Montana elected the Democratic candidate by noon, and then it was just Virginia. I couldn't help thinking, much though I wanted Allen to SUFFER DEFEAT, that this isn't a democratic system - if the Senate represents the entire country, and that voice is exactly split, then a majority by one still isn't a majority: they have no right to call it that, or to vote on things fundamental to the American people. But at the same time, the American people seem to be pretty distracted by relatively unimportant things, so maybe it is up to the Senate, no matter how closely divided, to be our guide. And since it's a Democratic senate, I'm certainly not unhappy. It may not be much of a majority at all, and from an objective POV it may be a pretty unbalanced system, but it's my majority! And I hope, hope, hope that they will concentrate on fundamental things: fundamental being the WAR IN IRAQ, and finding Alternative Energy so that we won't crash when we run out of oil in 2030. Gay marriage and abortion are fundamental, too, but people are making far too big a deal over both, which distracts from the real picture: don't get me wrong, I think those are important issues, and I think that they should be legal - I just think it's ridiculous that as a country, people would elect their leaders on only those issues.

But what I sat down to write was this: WE HAVE CONTROL OF THE SENATE!!! Webb in Virginia won, and defeated Allen, the slimy horrible toad-candidate, and the Democrats have the Senate, we have a voice again, we can finally have a say in rejecting and modifying the plans of the Grand Old Party. Not to mention, writing our own laws.

I definitely started crying when the news came on. Honestly, it seems too good to be true. I'm so proud of America!

Why Caltech students take people-classes.

2006-11-06T17:18:00.000-08:00

I heard a joke, which may or may not be true: the pubs office at Caltech was trying to get students to buy the school newspapers, because they had extremely low sales. The problem was that no one was reading them. Solution? They taped the newspapers to the ground, so that the students would be forced to read the title page as they walked from class to class with their hands shoved in their pockets, their earphones in, and their eyes focused on the ground in front of their feet.

My friend said that that was probably a joke, but honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it were true.

Caltech isn't that bad, don't get me wrong. I love the campus, I love that you glance up and there are the San Gabriel mountains on a clear, beautiful day. Palm trees everywhere, balmy temperatures, jacaranda blossoms galore.... and of course the academics are superb, since it's a school for geniuses nation and world-wide. My dad taught there, in fact, for over 20 years (he has a wikipedia entry, actually, to my astonishment and pride), so I grew up on the campus. I remember learning to ride my bike on the quad between my dad's building and its twin, in the shadow of the odd but awesome Baxter Auditorium. And once when we built a model sailboat, we sailed it in the pond (not the crayfish ponds, but the one with a fountain and bridge), even though technically that wasn't allowed.

I definitely wonder what it would be like if I still had an excuse to spend a lot of time on the Caltech campus.... my dad died a few years ago, so my growing-up-on-Caltech pretty much ended then. Chilling on the campus the other day for the first time in four years, I suddenly teared up, thinking that I'd know the campus so much better than I do if my dad were still alive. But that's not terribly feasible, so I thought that maybe I could take an initiative. Get to know Caltech a little better, meet the people, get a glimpse into Caltech and who knows, maybe gain some insight into my dad's life and work there.

So, since I've been terribly out of shape lately, and my mom and I still get discounted gym memberships through the Caltech pension plan, I've joined the gym. Not the intellectual haven that is the rest of the campus, but still. At least a little bit of Caltech vibes floatin around. Today: my first attempt to break into the antisocial bubble that is Caltech. Moderate success. I ran for 15 minutes, fast-ish, and debated whether the guy standing in the same spot for 10 minutes was watching me in the mirror (verdict: yes). Then I wandered from machine to machine, marveling at my weakness and at the strength of some of these apparently very buff (but still antisocial) Caltechies.

It definitely took me the first half hour to figure out that to change the weight, there's a small, invisible button that you have to press to change the peg. Yeah. Picture me wandering from machine to machine rattling the pegs with an expression of confusion, seeming to wonder "why is everyone required to lift the same amount?" Fortunately, most of the machines were at manageable weights, so I didn't have to make that much of a fool of myself. Finally, on a machine facing the corner, I gave myself the luxury of rattling the peg till finally - finally! - I accidentally hit that magic, hidden button, and voila, out it popped. So. Now I know for next time! In the event that I am ever working out next to anyone I do not want to embarrass myself in front of (namely, someone extremely, extremely attractive), I can smoothly change the weights, whip out that peg and change it to 30, 45, 60...... someday I'll be strong!

But I must say, not a word was spoken the entire time I was in that gym. In fact, I had virtually no interaction between any other person. Not that I particularly expected to, but still, there was just something about this silence that rang of GENIUS. You know how geniuses are brilliant at math or science or whatever their thing is, but don't know how to meet the eyes of the person they're talking to. Consider the following: I and a young curly-haired man were approaching the same machine, but he wasn't walking very purposefully, so I wasn't sure whether he actually wanted to use it. I stopped, asked "Oh, were you going to use this?" He stopped, seemed to freeze for a second while giving me a deer-in-the-headlights glance, looked at his feet and muttered, "No, no, go ahead." And he walked quickly off in the exact opposite direction. Well, I got the machine..... But honestly! Those Caltech geniuses. I knew before I signed up that they're not that talkative, though. Honestly, it's just about being on the campus again. It's pretty cool.

Statistical impossibility!

2006-10-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

News Flash! 83% of all statistics are made up on the spot!

Old poem

2006-10-27T17:10:00.000-07:00

Outside
fat, bursting bubbles of rain are pouring down
each drop heavier than the one before
till everything is drowned
utterly
by the dull weight of rain.

Displeased,
the cat sits on the window sill
glaring through the glass
at all the damp destruction.
Tail flicking, angrily, back and forth

Slap, slap, slap

against the wall.
She eyes the rain carefully
and seems to say, “if I
were running things, by God,
I’d teach the rain a thing or two.
But that will have to wait –
just now it’s cold and wet outside.”

I’m smiling as I turn the page
of that book I’d meant to read for six whole months.
A subdued fire crackles in the fireplace
warm and merry inside where it’s dry.
This moment – nothing special
completely ordinary –
is something, still.
6 billion other people share
this planet with me. Yesterday,
Tomorrow and
Today –
they belong to all of us,
But
this moment –
this is mine.

That's from two years ago, at an Amnesty International coffee house. Whenever I have a lot of time to kill, and nothing in particular to do, I go through my old stories and poems. I suppose that's somewhat egotistical, but I always think it's amusing and often intriguing to go back over what I was thinking. Similar to rereading a diary....

Roll down your windows!

2006-10-27T16:27:00.000-07:00

Early Application essays are due on Wednesday, and I am glad I didn't do Early. I was pretty set on applying Early to Swarthmore, mainly because I wanted to get into a college early on and not worry about anything for the rest of the year, but then I fell in love with St Andrews..... it doesn't offer an Early application option, so for St Andrews alone I've pushed all my applications back to Regular. And it feels great! Of course, I'll be fairly miserable on December 20th, when I have to get all my supplements in the mail, but I'm working on all the essays already, or at least pondering them every moment of every day, so I think I will be on top of that.

My classes ended at 11:30 today. How sweet is that? I lolled around campus for about fifteen minutes, and was home by 12:15. You know what I've started to notice recently? People in their cars are so detached from reality. I see zero other windows rolled down - everyone is inside their air-conditioned bubble, with their radio or iPod playing, set on their destination. Isn't that one of the ideas that Crash presents, that people don't actually interact with each other till they crash into each other, and have to get out to exchange information? (I haven't seen it yet). Well, that's kind of sadly true. But the weather is so perfect right now! There's no place better to roll your windows down than here in Los Angeles, and play your music just loud enough that it's not obnoxious, but so you can hear it over the hum of the engine, which you can't hear with windows up.... the air is right at that spot between warm and cool, where it's perfectly comfortable, and you get such an amazing breeze. Roll down your windows, people!

In On the Road, Jack Kerouac says that Los Angeles is a cruel and impersonal city. I thought that was interesting and somewhat ironic, as he lived in New York, which is the city that has the New York minute, to emphasize how fast-paced and stressed New Yorkers are. That's not to say we're not stressed in Los Angeles, but I think we're more laid back and chill, not to mention we've got sun all year round and long, warm days. It's the perfect place for people to be happy. Sure, Los Angeles may be big, but it's big and sprawling and lazy; New York is tall and abrupt and overwhelming. But for all that I disagree with Kerouac's statement that Los Angeles is an unfriendly place next to New York, I was surprised to realize that there's more than just a grain of truth when he says that it's an impersonal city. It is definitely impersonal. Friendly, but still impersonal. I don't think New York is necessarily any less impersonal, but still. Los Angeles is a big city, and too many people drive around with their windows rolled up, totally detached from how wonderful and beautiful their city is.

Virtual stress relief

2006-10-17T18:55:00.000-07:00

Thank you, whoever made this wonderful, wonderful page.

I'll write a longer post later this week. Right now I'm just feeling drained and somewhat nonexistent. I spent about 9 out of the last 24 hours writing a paper for AP US History (on Kesey and Kerouac and how they were the emblems of their eras), 8 hours at school trying to get from class to class and just survive, and about an hour and a half on transportation and laughing. Not to mention 20 minutes of daydreaming, and an hour of Law and Order, SVU. Now my brain is clamoring for a long, restful night, and it looks like a promise to myself I might be able to keep.

A day-brightening picture:

It's the beach at Selinunte in Sicily, last February. Endless and overgrown and beautiful, it might almost be undiscovered were it not for a dozen ancient temples, covered in weeds and flowers and now completely one with the surrounding Sicilian oceanside.

RSS Feed

2006-10-13T18:06:00.000-07:00

You can now subscribe to the RSS feed on my site; the link is on the right hand side if you scroll down a bit.

Little known facts

2006-10-13T17:25:00.000-07:00

Dolphins have bigger brains than humans, and (next to humans) the second largest brain-to-body ratio of all known animals. Barnacles have the largest penis-to-body ratio of all known animals.

Why bother pretending?

2006-10-11T18:40:00.000-07:00

Whenever we have an interesting discussion in class, or I hear someone say something puzzling, I make a note of it in my journal so that I'll have something to write about if I blog that day.

Today's topic: why pretend to be monogamous, even if we aren't? Not just in an angsty, drama-ridden soap opera way, but biologically. We talked about it today in Bio, and it was fascinating. We're not the only species that sneaks around behind its mate - apparently a few scientists recently did some paternity tests both in a preschool and in a community of songbirds. Sad to say, but 30% of the tested children and baby birds were not their father's offspring. Yet the mother remains with the father, and the father thinks the baby is his. In the case of the songbird, the father leaves if he finds his mate cheating.

So if animals are so prone to cheat, why think of ourselves as monogamous? In the case of humans, it's because we want the support and stability of a relationship, we develop emotional bonds with our partner, we need help raising the child(ren).... how much different can it be for songbirds? It's difficult to prove if they have emotional attachments, but definitely the mother bird will need help raising the baby birds - it's got to be hard work to build a nest and feed four or five hungry baby birds without a mate. So they pretend that their mate is the father, and it's all good (of course, the male is off mating with as many females as he can, too).

Looking at it with respect to genetics, the male is cheating to make sure his genes stay in the gene pool; meanwhile the female may get a wandering eye because she sees other males whose genes may make for stronger, better offspring. Rather than lose her mate by openly being polygamous, she secretly mates with the other bird, and remains in an apparent monogamous relationship.

The thing is, I think that we associate relationships and cheating with humans alone - when we look at an animal that's not as big-brained as us, it's surprising to think that they have the same dramas as we do. But it's all genes, the same genes that are telling a bird to find a better mate without leaving its partner are also attracting people in relationships to someone else. Yet we'll keep on insisting that we're monogamous, as will the songbirds. That's what we've evolved to do best.

Three important Nevers

2006-10-10T20:48:00.000-07:00

Last week I received some marriage advice from a big, burly taxi driver, who also advised me to shop only at Walmart, and I found myself listening carefully, although when he asked if I was married I answered with an over-emphatic "NO!"

First, never argue about money
Never say "what if" - just go ahead and do it, or else don't think about it at all.
Never go to bed angry - after a fight, talk it out.

He seemed so proud of his wife and of their 30-year marriage. "She's the one with brains, and I'm the one with muscle," he said with reference to her PhD; he himself hadn't gone to college. Somehow they ended up together, and according to him, they've been living by these three guidelines for all 30 years, through ups and downs. He said a gypsy had told him, but I imagine that's a little far-fetched. However that makes it rather exciting and wonderful: an old, withered woman gives him this advice, which has helped him to hold onto a woman who he's sure is far above him.

I wrote down the advice as soon as I got back to my hotel, before I forgot anything. It seemed like one of those rare, great pieces of wisdom you find in unexpected places. And who would I be to ignore morsels of wisdom presented to me?

(Brief) Photo journal of the last week

2006-10-08T10:52:00.000-07:00

UNCREATIVITY!!!

2006-10-06T20:46:00.000-07:00

Aah! I'm uncreative. That's the problem right now, is that I keep having bursts of bloginess, usually when I'm far away from pen and paper, and I think out a witty paragraph or two, or sketch out a blog article in my head, as I watch the countryside go by (can we talk about how in the last week I've spent about 3/4 of my waking hours in a car?), and by the time I sit down to blog, I've lost interest in whatever I was going to write about. That's the problem with working ideas over. They get tired of being stuck in my head for more than an hour, and just wander off.

Ho hum.

WHAT IS A BEACH WITHOUT SAND?? Think about it. That's why you should vote.

Random. I was thinking about my dad and his work - political science. He used to say that it didn't matter if a person didn't vote. That person is one grain of sand in a beach. But think. What's a beach without sand?

Hours in a car. It's frying my brain.

The fall colors are absolutely spectacular. People up here say that they've hardly changed color; they're only beginning, still mostly green. But it's the very first time I've seen them, and I'm in love. I could live here. I could definitely live here.

Colleges I've visited, in order of preference: Middlebury, Swarthmore, Bard, Reed, Sarah Lawrence, Goucher, Hampshire, Bennington, Haverford..... I think that's it. And to add to that list, colleges I won't visit before I apply: Macalester and St Andrews.

afl;ekmadms,dk...... more or less my thought process right now.

I still exist!

2006-10-02T17:15:00.000-07:00

So much for posting every day..... but in my defense: COLLEGE SEARCHING. Today I went to Sarah Lawrence and Bard, both stunning, both artsy and sciency and charming and whimsical and close to New York but surrounded by the beauty of the countryside..... tomorrow is Bennington, the day after Middlebury, then Hampshire, and then Wellesley (which I still can never spell on the first try), but I'm mainly checking that out to see a great friend from Italy.

I'll post some pics of the campuses in a week when I'm back home. They're gorgeous, and if I were deciding on appearance alone the decision would impossible. I liked Bard the teeniest bit more, so it may be that I actually end up replacing Sarah Lawrence with Bard, whereas if I hadn't seen the campuses I would have applied just to Sarah Lawrence. Despite a two-hour (NEVER ENDING) campus tour at Bard. Actually, I snuck away before the tour was even over, because I was so tired of campus-inspecting for the day.

Seriously, we've been getting lost at every turn. It's not that I'm a bad map-reader, per se, it's just that the roads are confusing and when you're on them for the first time when you're on a tight schedule, it makes for something of a stressful drive. But beautiful nonetheless, in this rolling, lush countryside. Very unlike the rolling golden hills in California, with granite and lava deposits sticking out of the hills at all angles. I'm not sure which I like better. It seems like it would be easier to declare that New England countryside is prettier, because it's greener and has its dramatic seasons (the trees are just turning red!); but California has such a distinctive beauty as well, and it's that dry, wilder kind. Very much part of the west, away from the lush New England lawns. An impossible decision, honestly. They're both so uniquely stunning.

But countryside is vastly eclipsed by academics, of course, which will be the ultimate decider. So far: Reed, Macalester, Swarthmore, St Andrews, Sarah Lawrence, Bard. And yet I'm far too exhausted to think about which to go to any more tonight. That shall be saved for next April, when I have to decide which college to accept. So in the meantime, goodnight.

I'll try and at least write twice a week. That'll be my secondary goal, and on less hectic weeks I'll still aim for a post a day. Cheers!

Lantern-eyes

2006-09-22T17:01:00.000-07:00

I love that her eyes don't quite match; the one on the left is slightly orange, the other more green. What a cutie. She's getting pretty old, though. The bright side is that she's far more affection than she used to be, and it's harder to get a rise out of her; she used to lash out at the slightest thing. It's sort of sad to watch her get old, though.

She sleeps in my bed at night, and tolerates it when I toss and turn; I definitely have thrown my arm on her a couple times, and she just growls and goes back to sleep. Wonderfully warm to snuggle up to, though; she sleeps right against my stomach when I'm curled up.

My beloved kitty! (Whom my father named "Gray Matter" against my suggestion of Rosy.... probably more suitable a name.)

Why we put our teens behind the wheel

2006-09-21T19:38:00.000-07:00

By the way, Elise totally took that picture of the palm tree trimmer out of the driver's window of her car..... as she drove and I steered.

That time of the year

2006-09-21T16:40:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's right. Time for palm trees to get their annual trim. And, more significantly, FIRE SEASON. The sky is orange, and the light is weird and heavy. Everything seems overly lit with an orangish tinge; since the grass is brown and dry, it seems to glow, firelike. Eerie, very eerie. Even the brown trunks of trees glow in this light. Three years ago a fire was almost started in the canyon by my house..... now every year when fire season rolls around, I can't help but feel apprehensive - getting stuff together and out of the house and far, far away from the mountains is an ordeal. Flash back 12 years, when my parents and I first moved to this house; we had just gotten all the furniture and boxes moved, but nothing was unpacked. At around 3:00 in the morning my mother came and woke me up, bringing me into her bedroom. "Look out there," she said, and pointed across the canyon to four small, separate blazes on the mountainside. We stood there, my mom and my dad and I, watching the fire grow until it became apparent that it was out of control. And then, in a panick, we threw what we could find from the boxes easiest to reach into the car; I was crying for my books, so my mother tore through boxes till she reached one with a few books at the top, grabbed them, and pushed them with me into the car. My dad set the sprinkler on the lawn, and we sped out of the yard.

I remember having a dream that night in which the hotel we stayed in towered over the mountains; I looked down from the top story at the mountains far below, as they burned.

It's funny, though, I feel sort of immune to the fires, possibly because of that 1994 fire; it jumped the canyon less than a mile south of my house, and only about a quarter mile north, and it didn't get my house. Three years ago someone tried to start a fire in the canyon, and it wouldn't take (it didn't help that it had just rained, and that the guy stuck around till the sheriffs came).

But I still make that little mental inventory every fall of what I'm going to grab if we ever need to evacuate.

Breathe

2006-09-20T22:39:00.000-07:00

I'm a little more relaxed now, definitely. The essay's written, everything is put together and ready to be turned in. It was just a moment of terror when I looked at my email and saw that this essay and this scolarship stuff is all due tomorrow. One of those moments that I don't want to go through again. Here's hoping the trust I put in the CommonApp will help me be always on time and prepared well in advance for all essays that need writing. And no more breakdowns. At least this scholarship essay involved no tears, because the CommonApp essay definitely did. But that's written, and though I have to do revisions, it's good enough, so if rewriting it is an ordeal, I can just submit it as is.

And wouldn't you know it, I'm starting to get restless again. Yes, it's wonderful being home. No, it's not the same as Europe. So when the representative from St Andrews came, I listened, practically drooling, to everything he had to say in his Scottish accent with his deadpan British humor; and everything appealed to me. I love the looks of the University. I love the looks of the town. I love the idea of being right there in Europe. And I love the idea of being near Italy.

But of course, patience, patience. Here's my list at the moment: St Andrews, Swarthmore, Reed, Macalester. Possibly Sarah Lawrence, possibly Bard, possibly Middlebury. I want to keep it simple, but not so simple that I haven't got good chances. As is, I'm brilliantly happy with the list. So, vediamo.

Deadline

2006-09-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

Feeling slightly hysterical. Like I want to laugh and cry, and nothing I write is good enough, because this is an essay that could win me $2,000 for college, and I've forgotten to write it till the night before. And I hate it, because it's too verbose and frivolous, as all my writing always is; but I hate the scholarship, too, because it wants a boring, horrible list of accomplishments, with simple, stated brilliance, which I cannot write in a million years.

So I'll just breathe and write what comes out, and hope that it implies a little brilliance, at least enough to merit those $2,000. I don't need it, but it would be nice.

Breathe.

How deep is too deep?

2006-09-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

"I'm applying to a college that has a J Crew across the street, and they give student discounts."

Well sure, that's a nice perk. But something that would even be on the radar when considering a college? Admittedly I haven't been on the college scene very long, but this one blew me away. Maybe it's just because I've never been to J Crew. Or Abercrombie & Fitch. Or Banana Republic. So honestly I could care less. Now, if someone said "Trader Joe's," I'd definitely perk up. Other perks? Vicinity to a city, nice cafes, good college town or city with jobs available and affable people, and some good trails and/or bike paths. But having good name stores is not something that would ever appeal to me. In fact, I'm trying to veer clear of those colleges that are labeled super preppy. You know, the ones with polo shirts and those knit cabled sweaters, and huge sunglasses and leather purses? The people I got to know in Italy are all so unaffected by the lure of designer brands; many of them have to carefully watch their money, and when they do buy something it's something that will be significant. In fact, much of the time that I was with them I felt the tiniest twinge of guilt that I am from Pasadena, affluent as it is and fixated on television shows and actors and glamorous clothes that will last for a year, maybe two.

I love this city; that's not at doubt. Every time I come back to Los Angeles after being away I feel hungry for it and its palm trees and the skyscrapers and its gorgeous, weathered mountains. I love the air (polluted though it may be, it is distinctly of Los Angeles, and therefore wonderful); I love the sunsets, brilliant and gorgeous; and I love those two days a year that I actually go to the beach. What I don't love is how materialistic a city it is.

Right now Rose Court tryouts are being held at the Wrigley mansion in Pasadena. Almost every girl in my class (and indeed in the entire valley) is trying out for what is undoubtedly a very prestigious and probably very fun role as one of the beatiful, flower-bearing girls on the float in the New Year's Rose Parade. One queen, six princesses. Seven girls out of several hundred. Many are just trying out to get tickets to the Ball (which, I must admit, sounds somewhat alluring, though that may just be because it is called a Ball and not a Dance); but many more hope to make their way to the final rounds. Which, I hear, practically guarantees a place at USC (shhhh! it's unofficial)

So right now at school there's the flurry that must accompany any beauty contest; regarding clothes and makeup and hair and seldom the actual significance of being Rose Queen. And though it may mean the world to someone, it all seems so terribly frivolous. Between endless talk of tryouts, and then J Crew being offered as a major deciding factor in picking a college, I feel like I'm being engulfed in one giant cloud of superficiality; and it makes me feel slightly rebellious, makes me want to say "hey, what's important?"

And I want to thank my friends from Italy, who really made me realize that what makes your time most worthwhile is just enjoying one another, and just being. Which, up there with academics, is my top priority for a college. None of those preppy schools for me, thanks.

Kind of beat

2006-09-15T19:39:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've been colorless and dull all week, but that's hardly the truth. On Wednesday I finished school at 11:30 and met with a new teacher at school who speaks some Italian and will be the head of my Italian club. She was really wonderful, with an absolutely stunning smile, and is totally enthused about the club. And afterward I went down to the senior room and ate chocolates, and Marisa and I sat in the papa san chair and laughed for an hour.

Plus, Monday, Wednesday and Friday were easy days, with only 2 classes each. So I certainly wasn't sweating it this week. My homework load has been remarkably light. And yet I'm feeling pretty drained. I wonder if it could possibly be because I spent so much time laughing. I think this is the very lowest I've felt all week, and I'm not even feeling down, just exhausted. I guess there are no complaints to be had when the only one is that I'm tired from smiling.

However I am starting to feel ever so faintly frantic about college. It's such a fun, wonderful thing on the horizon, and yet there still remains that one huge, horrible word: DECISION. But it's not even the decision that's making me feel pressed for time; it's all the papers, all the application materials and supplements with their due dates and all the various people I have to go to in order to get everything turned in..... It just seems like too much for me to get all together!

But I'll try and get back on the bogging scene. I've been sadly remiss this week. Cheers!

Monday...

2006-09-11T21:07:00.000-07:00

What else is there to say? School was fun. In Latin we had a test that was an hour long, to celebrate the new schedule's 80-minute blocks. It was an okay test, just long. But, it's Catullus, and Catullus is always cool. Poems 10, 96, 50-something..... eh, I have no idea, and checking would involve getting up. But amusing, and my first exposure to Catullus. Definitely a sight more interesting than Vergil, whom I learned to despise last year. Sorry, buddy. Just not quite as exciting as Homer.

Eye appointment after school, I spent a long time debating over whether to get modest, normal looking frames, or giant square thick plastic red frames..... after about 30 minutes of trying on one, then the other, I finally decided on a nice compromise. Roundish, to fit my face, with (you guessed it) thick plastic red frames. I guess the only thing I compromised on was the square shape. But they're cool, and I'll get them in a couple weeks, and then I'll finally be able to take my contacts out more often, not have them in from 6:30 in the morning till 11:00 at night. Sweet.

Once again, with this blessed new schedule, I had no homework tonight! Well, about 40 minutes of reading. And.... yeah, that was about it. I did my calc homework on Saturday while babysitting two adorable twins, and there isn't any bio homework due.... I LOVE THIS SCHEDULE!

So yeah, Monday down, 4 days to go. I can deal with that. Actually, I wouldn't even be counting down days if I didn't have my Italian group on Saturday. Man, I miss speaking Italian, and coming out of that group, which is Italian for an hour and a half is really tough, because for 90 minutes I'm back in Italy and then suddenly WHAM, I walk out the door saying "ciao" and "ci vediamo" and I'm in Pasadena. Which is a wonderful place. Full of English speakers. But it's not Italy, and that's what I'm missing right now.

But I have a possible job that'll help use up all that extra time between 3:00 when school ends and 10:00 when I go to bed, and tutoring once a week with a kid going through the court system, and I'm trying to get on top of reading just for fun again, and if all else fails there's always an episode of SVU on, so I think Saturdays will come zooming up at me every week.

Not in the zone?

2006-09-07T18:13:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm brilliant. Even days at school are the days on which I have only two academics, those being English followed by Latin. On days 2 and 4, Latin is followed by 2 frees (G and H block). So after Latin today I went downstairs to the Senior room, got comfy in the Papa san chair, and finished a load of homework due tomorrow... I ate a candy bar or two, I listened to music, and enjoyed my first free. Until an hour had passed and I went up to my locker to get some more homework to finish, and just happened to notice the schedule I have posted right inside the door. It said, "G Block: College Seminar."

I debated whether I should wait the extra 20 minutes till class ended and people came out to lunch to say, "Holly, where were you?" Then I could just say, "SHIT, I totally forgot!" and race off to apologize profusely to the College Counselor. But instead I walked the walk of shame, and with 15 minutes left till lunch, I went to class. I opened the door, and there was a murmur, the "oooh, she's gonna get it" kind, and I slunk over to an empty seat (conveniently on the other side of the classroom from the door), and collected the necessary handouts, and pretended I'd been in class all along.

What I learned today? I am so not going to get into college. Even if I do get in I'll probably forget that Orientation starts a week early. *sigh*

The good, the wonderful, and the beautiful

2006-09-06T18:11:00.000-07:00

That's right. It's an iPod. And that spiffy, colorful case? It took me a whole day to make, and several "first drafts" so to speak, between You've Got Mail and My Best Friend's Wedding, not to mention sneaking into the kitchen for a bite of food every half hour. I am a true hedonist at heart.

But yeah, I got a tape adaptor ages ago, before I had this iPod and before I realized that I had given away my CD player 3 years ago..... so now it's in constant, constant use, and I love it. That is the reason I got this iPod, which has had to replace my beloved previous iPod, which died last October. I waited nearly a year, of which 8 months involved hours of train travel and 3 months involved daily commute to work and home, and now I think I've earned this iPod and the right to listen to all the music that I want to as often as I want to. I'm trying not to listen to it as compulsively as I would listen to my old iPod.... though you don't want me in your passenger seat unless you're willing to give me complete and utter control over the music.

Photos up again and running

2006-09-03T23:57:00.000-07:00

I ended up just erasing my entire iPhoto library after I got everything onto CD, and then putting all the pictures back on the computer.... time consuming, god yes, but worth it to know NEVER TO MESS WITH iPHOTO AGAIN, and also just to gain a new and valuable appreciation for all of my photos. Maybe it's bad to have totally inanimate digital-age objects be so significant, but they're my way of recording where I go and who I'm with, and when I look at them I remember how I felt when the photos was taken, and in a way I keep my experiences in the photos, since I'm a naturally forgetful person. So, damn am I glad to have them all safely stored away again, and 100% backed up.

Unexpected error

2006-09-03T23:54:00.000-07:00

"When an error occurred unexpectedly Mac OS X was shut down..." Is that allowed to even happen?

Thank you

2006-09-02T13:36:00.000-07:00

Numbers in Italian, from 14: quattordici, quindici, sedici, diciasette.... notice a difference? Because I do. I have reached the age where the "dici" is no longer at the end - it's now at the beginning. Gone are the days of quindici, sedici, here are the years of diciasette! I am seventeen! I AM 17; I am SEVENTEEN; I AM SEVENTEEN; i am 17; I am seventeen; I am 17! I AM seventeen! Finally!

Thanks mom, for taking me out to dinner at Bakers Square (even though we didn't have time for pie) and to Little Miss Sunshine; thank you Kirk for the music gift card; thanks to my friends for throwing me a surprise party at the park, especially Elise for organizing it; thank you to everyone for leaving me messages; thanks to Nancy for a mystery box in the mail; thanks Armida for calling me all the way from Italy! Thank you everyone, and if I didn't mention you, I'm still thinking of you.

And thank you iPhoto, for not deleting all my photos in the end, though you certainly tried.

Photo crash-and-burn

2006-09-01T22:30:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't had any photos up for a while, here or on my Flickr site, and for that there is a very good reason. My computer can't find my photos. Basically. iPhoto just won't recognize any of my photos, which I guess means technically they're still there in Finder, and I can open and edit them in Preview.... however I miss the easy accessibility and usability of iPhoto, which shows a little exclamation mark of doom every time I try and open any of the photos. But when I delete photos out of iPhoto and try to import them from Finder, I get an error message. I guess that's what's freaking me out. Why can't I import any of my finder photos, which I can open in other applications and which obviously still exist? Why not? The whole idea of iPhoto is that you can import any kind of picture into it! So there must actually be something wrong with these photos.... and that terrifies me so much, because these photos are my entire life in Italy this year, and the summer before that and then this past summer. I don't want to lose them! So, for the time being, I'm not uploading any more photos onto my computer, I've created backups on my mom's computer, and tomorrow I'm going to take in my computer to an Apple technician who will make it better and not charge me too much (fingers crossed). But what that means is that my blog will be sadly pictureless, unless I review the absolutely spectacular movie I saw tonight......... Little Miss Sunshine!

Mushrooms on a plane!

2006-08-31T22:31:00.000-07:00

I quote the words of one Deirdre Straughan, an American living in Italy (like me, except more fluent and a lot more exciting experiences under her belt); this little article caught my eye in a recent newsletter because it attests to the fact that ITALIANS LOVE MUSHROOMS. I wrote an article about this in Spyglass, my school newspaper, back in the early months when I was still getting my articles in on time and published, which you can read here. Mushroom picking in the fall is a huge part of Italian culture, and can, on occasion, be poisonous.

"While out on a walk (which became a hike)," writes Ms. Straughan, "I saw a couple of women heading into the woods with wicker baskets dangling from their backpacks - off to hunt for mushrooms. Italians, like hobbits, are very fond of mushrooms, especially the varieties which defy cultivation and can only be found in the wild (or bought, expensively, from someone else who found them).

I don't want to quote the entire article - instead allow me to direct you to the rest of the article, which describes the risks of mushroom poisoning; from there you can link to and explore her other interesting articles on Italy (a country worth a thousand articles, of course).

My nonno would religiously go out mushroom-picking every weekend during the fall, and bring back a whole basket of absolutely ginormous abominations of nature. Which, since I'm still alive, were evidently not poisonous. I guess he's an old hand at not picking poisoned mushrooms; after all, he celebrated his 80th birthday last fall, which means he's nearing 81 years of not having died of mushroom poisoning. I guess he knows his stuff. But still - how hard is it to not notice that tiny difference? Those appealing orange-speckled mushrooms instead of these delicious cousins of portobellos? Well, damn. I'm glad to be alive, and I'm glad for those absolutely delectable mushroom dishes. Woo, nonno!

Day 2 of school, and I'm already ready for SVU

2006-08-31T17:45:00.000-07:00

Well, so far I haven't gotten the independent study that Marisa and I want to do; it's Latin American studies, and initially we were going to do it with my US History teacher, but he's already doing two independent studies with two other students, and apparently there's this whole unwritten rule that a teacher RARELY IF EVER takes more than one independent study, because that'll put pressure on all the other teachers to be open to independent studies. Which makes sense, of course, since all the teachers already put so much time into the classes they're actually getting payed for, and of course they have lives outside of school (hard though that is for students to believe, especially when we see teachers at the grocery store or the movies, or, god forbid, on a date). Still, it's too bad that there's kind of that "don't go there" attitude about indpendent studies. I feel like a student should be commended for wanting to explore academic areas not offered in school. I wonder if it would be a reasonable idea to have teachers on staff who teach only one or two actual classes and then are totally available for independent study. That way, the option would be completely open to students, but not put any pressure on the teachers to spend overtime at work. Win for everyone! Though of course it's way more complicated than that, but still.... seems like a nice idea.

My schedule:

A block: free (day 1); yoga (days 3 and 5)
B block: AP Calculus (I just took the qualifying exam, and I think I get to stay in the class! Plus it was a two hour test, and I finished it -or at least, all the questions I could answer- in an hour. but there's a lot I need to review just to make sure I'm on top of things in class)
C block: AP US History (with the class below me, which I think is going to be cool; I don't know how much actual interest there is in the room, but I didn't talk that much either, so maybe it was just a shy first day)
D block: AP Biology (This class is going to be HELL but SO COOL; it'll be so much work, I know, but we started off with a dissection just to show us it would be a pretty hands-on course, not very lecture-oriented at all)
E block: AP English/Gender & Identity
F block: AP Latin Literature (Catullus and Horace! Yay!)
G block: free!
H block: hell if I know.... maybe that Independent Study class, Latin American studies, if we do succeed in finding another teacher?

The schedule is a six-day rotating schedule, which means we have blocks A, B, C and D on Days 1, 3 and 5, and blocks E, F, G and H on Days 2, 4 and 6, and all the classes are eighty minutes. So my odd days are pretty tough, and my even days are easy classes and two frees, which is pretty kick-ass. At least I get to relax every other day.

Oh, and it's my birthday tomorrow!

Brava California!

2006-08-31T17:32:00.000-07:00

Good for California! I am so proud to be from this state sometimes, and this is one of those moments. Another was when the mayor in San Francisco, Gavin Newsome, started allowing gay marriages, and it seemed like we, at least California and Massachusetts, had hit an age of enlightenment. Then of course the politics hit the fan, and all the marriages were annulled within a couple weeks. So of course that wasn't exactly a high point, but it wasn't a low point either, because in order to get anywhere you've got to run into a lot of bumps for people to take notice. As soon as something's a controversy, you know that eventually it will be totally legal. Well, except for drugs. But hey, look at Amsterdam - maybe one day we can really all be that cool.

While waiting for drug legalization, we'll just enjoy our wonderful clean (drug-free) air.

Yes, I realize the irony of a Los Angeles Californian saying that. I look to the future!

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels

2006-08-29T22:04:00.000-07:00

This got off to a painfully slow start, and in full character redeemed itself completely by the end of the first act. It opens with a song by Lawrence Jameson (Tom Hewitt), about his mascherade as a destitute prince trying to save his kingdom from civil war in order to beguile women of their money and jewelry; he dances a slew of girls off the stage, spins over to a roulette table, offers up his royal ring to his assistant Andre (Drew McVety) within audible distance of the brilliant Muriel Eubanks (Hollis Resnik), and woos all the jewelry right off her within the first 5 minutes. The song isn't terribly catchy, and the choreography isn't spectacular - for the most part it's just all sadly average and unenthralling.

But then, the moment we'd all been waiting for.... the entrance of the dearly beloved (hallowed be thy name) Norbert Leo Butz, playing Freddy Benson the cheap, corrupt greedy version of Lawrence, interested in money and women and nothing more (for the record, Lawrence is interested in culture and art and classy things like that). A mediocre entrance, I've gotta say, and believe me that I say it with regret. Of course the audience gave him a huge ovation, and I thought he did an excellent job of accepting it, but then his first scene simply isn't too catchy. When he comes to Lawrence asking for lessons, so that he can be as rich and skilled as Lawrence at swindling wealthy women, his first song is awfully crude - definitely catchier than Lawrence's, but full of overplayed sexual innuendos. In fact, a major flaw in the play's first half was undue attention to sexual references - I think more subtle references would have been funnier; it was kind of awkward watching Norbert Leo Butz gyrating all over the stage and humping Lawrence and various inanimate objects...

And then suddenly, it got really, really good. Not that it wasn't good before, but it suddenly got wonderful. There was much more much funnier and less crude humor (a great deal of French jokes, and then at the entrance of Dr. Emil Shuffhausen a lot of Austrian jokes). A romance develops between Muriel and Lawrence's assistant (and chief of police), Andre, and their love song is one of the highlights of the play - it starts with Andre attempting to light two cigarettes in his mouth at once, and retreating, discouraged, when his lighter won't light. Muriel says, "Well don't give up that quickly," and gives him some pointers on how to woo her, including some mood music. An accordionist slinks out of the shadows, and Muriel snaps up his instrument to give him a few pointers on how to put more "oomph" into it. And the more she speaks to Andre, the worse her French accent becomes, until by the end of the song and their kiss, their accents are identical.

Meanwhile Lawrence and Freddy have decided to make a bet to see which of them is the better swindler, and the loser has to leave town, limited only to Greenland, Antarctica, and Anaheim. The bet is to extract $50,000 from the American Soup Queen, a young woman named Christine Colgate (Laura Marie Duncan); Lawrence is planning to use the "destitute prince with a country sunk in civil war" ploy on her when Freddy rolls onstage in a wheelchair and a uniform, claims that his paralysis is totally emotional, and can be solved with a $50,000 doctor's bill for one Dr. Emil Shuffhausen of Austria. And so concludes the first act, when Lawrence overhears this plot and presents himself to Miss Colgate as the Dr. himself. By this point in the play, I would definitely have rated it at an 8 or so, after the 6 I'd have given a play entirely of the caliber of the first few scenes.

I won't go into much detail about the second act; again, the highlight was Muriel and Andre's love affair, which is rather tumultuous and drunken, and comes precariously close to ending ("I'll miss you." "Will you?" "Not if you don't leave..."); as for the drama with Lawrence and Freddy and Christine, I'm going to leave you with the assignment to watch the movie if you haven't already, because the musical is a pretty fair reproduction, with a couple big changes (like Muriel and Andre, which once again was totally essential), but no added or changed plot twists, so watching the movie will tell the story just as well. Plus, if I say too much, I'll reveal THE HUGE PLOT TWIST AT THE END (have I said too much?). But if you do have the chance to see the musical, you absolutely must. For all that I was not turned on to the first half of the first act, it was great. Kudos to all the actors and actresses (I was going to say especially so-and-so but then I realized that I'd just name them all, because each and every one of them was so spectacular in her or his role). And the music was great. Especially all of Muriel's songs.

Fences

2006-08-28T19:34:00.000-07:00

This play was amazing. I've got to admit, I went in thinking "Morpheus! SWEET!" and I came out completely put in my place. The play isn't about seeing Laurence Fishburne in a play at all, though that's certainly a strong component, since he's such a powerful actor - it's about the sheer emotion in the play itself. It reminded me a great deal of Death of a Salesman, in that it celebrates a man, Troy, who is neither great nor significant, but does his best to lead the best life he can and be remembered, if at all possible. Obviously he fails and estranges himself from his family; but the play works to remind the audience that even in horrible errors he makes, such as preventing his son Cory from playing football, he always makes decisions for what he thinks are good reasons - he had been a major baseball player before the major leagues started letting black players in, and still believes that a black man cannot get any respect in the sports world, so he's trying to protect Cory.

The singular most powerful moment of the entire play, to me, is when Troy admits to his wife Rose that he has been having an affair, and that the woman is pregnant. He tells her that he "can just sit in her kitchen and laugh," and all his cares are gone. He "can't give that up." Rose hears him out, and then in just a few, well-chosen words she deftly cuts down his entire argument, showing him how stupid and selfish and blind he has been. She says that she often wanted out; that she often was reminded of Troy's imperfections, and yet she didn't abandon him, even at times when she didn't think she could live in that house one minute longer. "Don't you think I ever wanted to just sit and laugh?" Angela Basset played Rose, and at first I wasn't sure what I thought of her portrayal of the character, because at times her voice just didn't seem natural, trilling and lilting all over an octave; however by the second act (the beginning of which is this exchange), I was in love with her. She put so much power into her remonstrance of Troy - and when she said that line, "don't you think I ever wanted to just sit and laugh," she tilted her head back and she laughed like a madwoman, and you could see her hysteria at his betrayal and at her entire world crashing down around her. And only a few scenes later, when Troy brings his baby back from the hospital (his lover dies in childbirth), Rose agrees to take the baby for the baby's sake, "because she's innocent," but she tells Troy, "from now on you're a womanless man." An amazing woman, an amazing cast, an amazing play. I could go on for hours, but school starts tomorrow and I still have summer reading left.

Los Angeles Public Library

2006-08-28T19:28:00.000-07:00

I remember coming here occasionally when I was younger; never very often, since it's quite a drive away from multiple libraries that are within biking distance from my house. But it is so stunningly gorgeous that I remembered it better than anything else about LA when I was giving two friends a tour of the city (which involved me getting lost more than anything else...). It's colorful and open and huge, with about 4 stories connected by a wide staircase/escalator than runs the length of this hall. Absolutely gorgeous, and my favorite building in downtown LA, of the little of the city I'm actually familiar with.

Chia update

2006-08-25T16:05:00.000-07:00

This is so disturbing that I'm almost afraid to share it with the public. I watered the Chia on the right, and it survived and has gotten greener, but the Chia on the left has unfortunately suffered a horrible fate. Take care of your Chia pets, people! WE MUST PROTECT THE STEM CE- I mean, CHIA PETS!

My exciting Chia experiment

2006-08-22T15:50:00.000-07:00

This is my new dashboard. Isn't it wonderful? On my snazzy brand new gorgeous 13-inch MacBook, with a built-in iSight and a remote control..... I love Apple!

And these are my Chia Pets. I've been watering the one on the right, for the last two days..... seeing if that has any effect on its growth compared to the one on the left. So far, nothing..... the experiment will go on. I'll update on progress.

For the love of Arthur Dent

2006-08-22T15:43:00.000-07:00

I just found a blatant Douglas Adams reference in one of the Blogger Help sections:

Everything is Illuminated

2006-08-21T10:42:00.000-07:00

Wow. Just - wow. This is a movie starring Elijah Wood (of debatable acting talent in Lord of the Rings), playing a young, obsessive-compulsive collector of family trinkets who receives a photograph picturing his grandfather and a young woman during WWII. This woman, Augustine, apparently helped his grandfather come to America, where he met his wife and led a happy life, thanks to her.

Jonathan (Elijah), hoping to track down this woman in order to piece together his family history and to thank her for what she did for his (now deceased) grandfather, travels to the Ukraine, where he is welcomed with a marching band playing The Star Spangled Banner, and a young Ukrainian man, Alex, who says things like premium instead of first and proximal instead of close (eg "were you proximal to your grandfather?"). Alex and his grandfather, who claims to be blind and has a demented "Seeing eye bitch" named Sammy Davis Jr. Jr., take Jonathan ("Jonfen") on a drive toward the city where he knew his grandfather to have lived, Trachimbrod.

At first there is humor in Alex's misuse of english and his brusque exchanges with his family and grandfather, but there's also a certain solemnity, with a really powerful soundtrack of Ukrainian music, both traditional and pop. As they approach Trachimbrod, a village that seems to have been wiped out of existence, both Jonathan and the viewer gradually become emotionally drawn into the trip and into his grandfather's past, a past that involved in some way Alex's grandfather as well, a mystery that is gradually revealed through their discovery of Trachimbrod, now existing entirely in the memory and home of a single woman, the sole remaining survivor of the Nazi's brutal pillage of the town.

Funny and moving and beautifully filmed, with stunning Ukrainian countryside that Alex's grandfather calls "the most fertile land in Eastern Europe", this was definitely an overlooked film that deserved far more attention than it received. Five stars.

Finally got a facebook!

2006-08-20T22:52:00.000-07:00

I got my Westridge email account back, and we all know what that means. Staying in touch with everyone from SYA just got so much easier! No, of course I won't bother with the silly old email account. The gold -what I really wanted- is a Facebook account. And baby, I finally got it. And I'm addicted! It's so much prettier than myspace, so much cleaner and more ad-free and less crowded.... oh wait, that's because all the people who used to flock to friendster and facebook and the like are now swarming in troves to myspace. They even have a little handheld myspace now, so you can check while you're in gridlock traffic, or as your airplane is pulling off the runway when the flight attendant announces that you may turn back on all electronic items, or when you're in a dreary conversation and you can pretend you've been paged..... the possibilites are endless!

But really, where is the real winner? A nice, clean site where you might have a couple other friends, like Facebook; or an ugly site with dozens of pop-up ads attacking you with flashing colors and scantily clad women, but which offers a network that includes pretty much every single human being with access to a computer. Myspace is allowed in public libraries, as a testament to its cultural impact; it's not just tied to the upper middle class, or even to the very talented, musical upper class - this allows people without computers of their own to still have an account and check it. Movies no longer just have site pages at warnerbros.com/movietitle - now they have their own myspace, as do celebrities, bands (oh wait, that's the long-forgotten original purpose of myspace!), and even a few politicians (Check it out - I am so serious).

I wonder if there were people who refused to use the telephone? Or refused to drive cars? Or refused to take airplane flights? Women who refused to vote? And yet those were all cultural phenomena that took hold, and are obviously not going anywhere soon. Well, maybe cars will soon be disposable with rising fuel prices and this stubborn disinterest in creating hydrogen fuel cell cars, but that's beside the point. These are all things that society basically relies on. I guess the telephone is the closest example, and now things like video conferencing.... they're methods of communication that have really taken hold. Is Myspace the next email? Once upon a time it was snail mail, then telegrams, back to snail mail, and then someone finally invented the computer, and shortly thereafter internet came along, and with it, email. Which has served everyone quite well for the past decade. But I've got a hunch that email is definitely going to suffer a blow in favor of myspace. It's a pretty powerfully advancing fad, and I still can't decide whether or not I'm opposed to it.

Worst Case Scenario

2006-08-19T16:58:00.000-07:00

aka, if Holly doesn't get in to College.

I apply early decision to Swarthmore (deadline: 11/15)
I apply early action to Goucher and Hampshire (deadline: 12/1)
I apply regular decision to Sarah Lawrence (deadline: 1/1)
I apply regular decision to Reed and Macalester (deadline: 1/15)
And then I apply to Eckerd (deadline: 4/1), which is totally an awesome school...... and which accepts around 72% of its applicants, so it's a good school to save for last.

On the Road

2006-08-12T15:42:00.000-07:00

To quote Jack Kerouac, whose book I have just begun and am so far enjoying (we're talking page 19, though, so we'll see how it goes).... On the Road with a trip to Philly yesterday! I'll include pictures when I get home on Wednesday. We had to get up at 6:00 in the morning to make it up in time for a 9:45 campus tour. I went to check out Haverford and Swarthmore colleges, to begin the evil college ordeal of senior year. So far I've visited three colleges, and in order of preference they are Reed, Swarthmore............. and Haverford. Bummer for Haverford, there in super last place, but somehow it just didn't click for me. It had some nice buildings, but also some unattractive ones; and the campus layout was very unappealing. The tour guide also didn't seem to do a good job of selling the college - she spent more time repeating that Haverford is unique than actually sharing details about the college that make it an exceptional experience. Christopher and I actually ended up skipping the info session to go out for lunch before hitting up Swarthmore.

Swarthmore, which has rocketed to first place on my list..... and which only has a 22% acceptance rate. But it seems wonderful, intensely academic but not competitive, supportive, beautiful, full of opportunities, beautiful, in a great -if tiny- neighborhood, a half hour ride outside of Philadelphia, directly connected to the metro, and did I mention beautiful? The campus really is stunning, and the buildings are all built with this beautiful grey stone, the same kind that I admired in the more attractive buildings on the Haverford college.

Afterwards, wandering around in Philadelphia, we were walking back to the car from the plaza that houses the Liberty Bell when I heard from behind me "Holly?" I turned around, and there, leaning out from her car window, was Diana Day, my 6th grade teacher and then friend (plus my recent employer for a small journalism assignment), with her twins in the back seat. Back in her home town, visiting family, I presume, on the very same day that I happened to be up there checking out colleges. Talk about a small world!

One more college to go on this trip, and then I'll have four to rank. Oh, it'll get so much fun the more I get to rank! Oh wait. NOT.

Meeting the East Coast

2006-08-12T15:22:00.000-07:00

So far it's been a nice introduction. We're still getting to know each other, but I think it could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. The East Coast is pretty rocking. On Thursday I walked over toward the White House, learning how the streets lay themselves out and just enjoying the ambience, which is pretty friendly. Not to mention that this is a stunning city. The avenues are all very open and well designed, with trees and wide sidewalks; jaywalking is rampant, which creates an excellent laid-back feel; and can we say Italian tourists?? I talked to one family on Thursday, after sort of following them for a little while. Fortunately it was fairly crowded, so it wasn't too sketchy - all the same, I figured I either needed to walk away, or actually talking to them. So I did! And they were really nice and friendly, and it felt so wonderful speaking in Italian. You know, I think I have already significantly shaped my future by studying in Italy; much though I'd like to travel everywhere and learn every language, already I feel Italian becoming my focus. I love speaking Italian, I miss speaking it, I miss being surrounded by it and knowing that even if I'm speaking English to my friends I'll be able to speak Italian when I go into a store.

Since then I've tried to exercise restraint, which is difficult but sensible, since there are literally Italians everywhere - it's August, the month of travel. If I tried acting surprised by every Italian family that walked by ("oh, non siete Italiani?"), it'd get a little old, even if I did get to speak to them each a little.

But I'm definitely going back to Italy, and soon.

Coffee House

2006-08-07T22:53:00.000-07:00

On one of those mornings when nothing sounds better than a steaming mug of hot cocoa, a crisp, warm croissant, and a cozy little coffee shop, you'd best head down to Buster's on Mission and Meridian in South Pas. Homey and personal, it's a friendly atmosphere, with the best banana splits and the most heavenly hot chocolate in the world. Not to mention excellent decorating (nothing like a red counter overlooking a little Main Street outside), and a totally snazzy triangular shape to accommodate the train tracks that run right past. Oh yes, and the metro stop conveniently located directly across the street? Very cool.

Sean Connery dude!

2006-08-07T22:37:00.000-07:00

Working in East LA, Marisa and I passed this statue every day. It was amazing.

Items accomplished since Saturday

2006-08-07T20:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday:

Filled up my gas tank all the way
Got one of those spiffy tape players that hooks into an iPod or CD player
Realized that I gave away my CD player when I got my (now deceased) iPod..... so my spiffy new tape has no current use in my life, except to take up room in my purse, where it has been since I bought it, as though at the ready in the event that I should stumble across a free CD player just calling my name. Or hey, an iPod....

Sunday:

Got up early to make breakfast: a sort of delicious baked pancake, and extraordinarily strong coffee, packed it up, and drove over to Elise's.
Headed out to West LA to find a guy who is either named "Chis" or who can't spell his name.... unfortunately I badly misestimated how long it would take to get from Pasadena to La Brea, and gave us two hours when it really only took 45 minutes. So Elise and I played 'stake out' ("okay, so I'm Sean, and you're Gus"), and drank coffee and made bad jokes and ate pancakes and apple turnover, and finally got out and called Chis 15 minutes early, because the waiting was driving us insane. Not that we weren't already.
GOT AN ACCORDION!!!! ( you were wondering what I was doing out in West LA, weren't you? Well, I assure you..... the best of all reasons. A new musical instrument, completely at the drop of a hat and the whim of the heart when offered an incredibly cheap, exciting offer.
Named the accordion, which is bee-you-tee-ful, 'Chistery' after the guy who sold it to me, who was kind of a big burly Greek guy. Def still don't know if his name is Chis or Chris or Niko.
Went to the beach, and got a lot of sand in my pants. But, hey, we took great pics, and got lost on the Pacific Coast Highway, and pondered Mel Gibson's recent nearby mishap.
Headed home, finally tanked up after riding on empty for miles.... and hit up Talladega Nights: the Ballad of Ricky Bobby. A really, really.... amazing? movie. NOT. I've gotta say, I was disappointed. I mean, I know the whole idea of the crudities is that Ricky overcomes them, to become a better, braver, more accepting and less homophobic man, but still, sometimes it was just way too obnoxious. Definitely a bummer, especially since I expect so much from Will Ferrell. Though there's one great line, and maybe it's just the way in which it's delivered: "dear lord-baby-Jesus..... I'm thankful my sons no longer act like retarded gang-bangers" "Amen!"..... And the ending, at the finish of his final race with the French dude, that's a pretty great bit. But otherwise, just not too worth it. I'm glad I went to the cheap theater, and didn't deck out a full $10 on my ticket. As it was, I was counting quarters reaching the $7.50, or whatever it was, because I'd cleaned myself out, between the useless iPod/CD tape, and my sweet-ass rock-awesome accordion.

Went home and slept..... I left a note for the tenant that said "Morgan - lock the gate when you go out", because he hadn't, but after a while I felt bad and took it down.

Monday:

Went to work with Elise at JPL, and named lakes on Titan, one of Saturn's moons. Yes, when you have to learn all those names like "Lacus Mud" and "Lacus Harney" and "Lacus Iridis", you'll have us to thank. Oh yeah.
Broke the ice between Elise and her cool, silent officemate, Dylan, who she'll now go on to marry and have kids with.
Managed to make a fool of myself multiple times, including leaning over into a desk to pick up a candy bar. It didn't work so well as I had hoped - specifically, I had intended to lean around the desk.
Saw a whole bunch of freaking awesome stuff at JPL, like the machines that make equipment, and the construction room... in fact, in the construction room we got to see these super-cool space frisbees - the engineers were working on balancing them so that when they get flung into space they don't get off-balance and thrown out of their projected orbit. Elise and I were in this little plastic enclosure from which we could see everything happening, but couldn't really hear at all. One of the engineers held up his cellphone number on a piece of paper, and Elise and I called down, and he explained what they were doing, and what it was for and everything. Amazing.
Oh but wait. I was at dinner with Elise and her mom and my mom (who had only just come home from Redding, visiting my uncle, her brother), and my cell phone rang. Thinking it was someone else, I answered it with an emphatic "hey!" And on the other end, "Hi, this is Dan from the JPL Construction room you and your friend looked in on this afternoon." And he proceeded to tell me all about how he's in CA for a few weeks from DC, working on balancing these space-frisbees, and did I know any good hang-outs in the area? Oh, gee, well, none that I could think of off the top of my head.... why not ask the front desk at his hotel? Well, he'd already asked them, and what he was really looking for wasn't really a restaurant, but rather a place "to have a few drinks." "Well," I told him, "I really can't help you... I'm under 21, so I don't really know any bars." What I neglected to mention is that I AM ALSO UNDER 18, and therefore NOT available to middle-aged JPL geeks looking for an easy hook-up, with a couple weeks free from the wife and kids. Well, I am being unfair.... I have no reason to suspect he has a wife and kids except for my undying cynicism. But still. I just can't believe he called me back. Though I am pretty impressed at how completely subtle he was about hitting on me, and sort of/sort of not inviting me to go drinking with him. And how the entire time, even when implying that he wanted to get drunk, he referred to me as "you and your friend." Men....

And now.... my life in pictures!

Elise and me staking out the car... ("This one looks purpler than the rest." "I wonder how many dollars I've got in quarters?")

My bellissimo new accordion, Chistery.

Pacific Coast Highway.

It had been a sort of draining day, and when I found the gate unlocked, I just got grumpier. I ended up taking it down after an hour or two.

Deer on the JPL lawn! Stunningly gorgeous, though a bit fatter than your stereotypical elegant, slender doe.... it's from all the food and lazing around, I have no doubt. Very, very cool.

And last but not least, me and Elise goofing off in the Very Important Tools and Equipment room.

Viva Italia!

2006-08-05T19:49:00.000-07:00

I got to speak Italian for the first time since I've been back! I mean, I've called my host mom, and I've written a load of letters, but now I finally got to really speak Italian for an hour and a half. It's at the Hey, That's Amore cafe on Holly and Fair Oaks, an Italian conversation class every Saturday from 4:30 to 5:00. 15 people there today, and as soon as I walked in it was ciao, ciao, come ti chiami?, piacere, siediti.

I was shaking hands with everyone, and everyone was speaking Italian. I had forgotten how much I missed speaking Italian until I realized how easy I found it talking to everyone - that is, stumbling through a foreign language, rather than having that awkward fear of saying something stupid in your own language. Once it's another language, it's like saying stupid things is impossible, because you're experimenting, feeling your way in unfamiliar grounds, and everyone respects that.

I sat with two women, Molly and Polly (allow me to remind you that my name is Holly); Molly was a self-described gipsy, half french, half italian, and born in Columbia. Polly was an elderly American who had just started learning Italian, and was really quite good at it, especially considering that she's never spent a lot of time in Italy. But I met everyone, and it was a blast. Plus there was this totally hot blonde guy who looked about my age who walked in and out of the cafe a couple times, and smiled at me, but I don't think he speaks Italian, or at least he wasn't part of the Italian conversation group. But hey, maybe he just happens to be there every Saturday....

So next time you're planning a totally hot party, just remember that I can't be there until after 5:30. I've got Italian to speak!

Roasty Toasty (like a peanut!)

2006-08-04T22:07:00.000-07:00

And, like a peanut, I am shriveled up and cowering within my outer shell.... a raw, pink layer of sunburnt skin. Seriously, now. I haven't worn sunscreen all week and now, on the very last day of the Dolores Mission program I was volunteering for, on Carnival day, I get toasted past done, past overdone..... if I were a bagel, I'd no longer be edible.

Speaking of bagels, I had a prophetic one this morning. I went to Buster's, and the guy (who was cute!) burned my bagel the first time around, toasted it as thoroughly as I would be toasted mere hours later. BUT HOW COULD HE HAVE KNOWN???

So now I'm off to crawl painfully and delicately into bed, make up for the mere 6 hours of sleep I got last night (home late after the kick-ass cooking class, and up early to take my mom to the Greyhound bus station to go to Redding to visit her brother).... being careful of my now flaky, sensitive skin. The burn is never bad at first, and then about 8 hours later it becomes PAINFUL like a mother. But anyways, house to myself! All to myself, all weekend, except for the tenant, but so far I've never been coming or going at the same time as he, so it's pretty much as though I'm living all alone. A bachelorette in my own lovely mansion. Now I just need a keg party! Best episode of Freaks and Geeks, when they swap the fake alcohol for the real, and Bill gets totally wasted.... Man, I need to see that show again. It's been too long, and it's too wonderful to do without.

Now I really need to go to bed. You see how my mind wanders? From proving the infinite monkey theorem on a world-wide revolutionary scale, to prophetic bagels to keg parties. I need my sleep back!

To test the infinite monkey theorem?

2006-08-04T21:50:00.000-07:00

Say we redesigned a typewriter. Say none of the keys are marked, and they're in a totally random order... maybe the keyboard is even circular, and numbers and letters are interspersed. There is absolutely no way to tell what letter, number, or punctuation mark (not to mention enter, shift, etc) is which. Now put one of these unmarked, unidentifiable keyboards in a kindergarten classroom, and let them type all they like. Imagine one in every classroom in America! Pretty soon you'd start to get an awful lot of key combinations, right? On your way to...... THE INFINITE MONKEY THEOREM.

The idea is that the monkeys don't know what keys they're pressing, and eventually they'll type every existent key combination, thus producing all literature ever. So if these kindergartners have no idea which keys are which (and certainly couldn't type on a normal typewriter yet, either), it's the same idea. They're typing away, just having fun but unknowingly quoting Marx's first intimations of socialist living in his early writing, or Fagles' recent brilliant translation of Homer's Odyssey.

Can you just picture this? Typewriters across America.... across Asia, Europe, Australia, Africa? A WORLDWIDE EXPERIMENT...... is typing blindly really random enough to produce Two Gentlemen of Verona? Macbeth? King Richard III? The Spanish translation?

I really need to get over this.

The car that meant the world

2006-08-03T23:57:00.000-07:00

A year or two ago, as my mom was driving me to summer school one fine, sunny morning, I happened to glance out my passenger window just as we passed one of those huge, pretentious Mendocino St. mansions, and saw that young, hot neighbor I'd always known I had to have. He was wearing a green "Staff" tee, and standing next to a white Volvo station wagon (ROCK ON STATION WAGONS!!!), and talking to someone who I assumed to be his mom, who was standing on the perfectly trimmed, green, sprawling lawn between his car and their cake-like white house.

Why he was perfect:

He was obviously teenaged. Clues: he lived at home; his mother was out on the front lawn talking to him; he looked impatient; he was wearing a bright green "Staff" t-shirt.
He was HOT.
He was rich.
His mom looked nice!
He drove a station wagon.

He still lives there. The white station wagon is parked there every day, and I see it when I leave in the morning and when I come home at night. And one time when I was super grumpy, and my mom was driving my station wagon because her car was in the shop and we had to share mine, there were two boys standing in the road next to the station wagon, about to get in to go somewhere tremendously sexy.

I always pay attention, no matter how bleary-eyed or tired I am, going to or coming from all my exciting going-tos and coming-froms. It's not even obsessive anymore. It's just habit. The day has started out right when that station wagon is where it should be, at the foot of that green, sloping lawn and that giant, white mansion. It's that little daily reminder that they're out there. Somewhere.

Monkeys and their typewriters

2006-08-02T18:11:00.000-07:00

You know that theory that says that if you have monkeys, a typewriter, and eternity, they'll type out every Shakespeare play written? (No, seriously!) Just think.... not only will they be typing out Shakespeare (not to mention hundreds of versions of each Shakespeare play, with slight spelling variations, or one word substituted for another), but they'll be typing out every Daniel Pinkwater novel, each Nancy Drew mystery, the Harry Potter series, Jane Eyre, Steinbeck, for Pete's sake! Not only every single work of literature, all historical fiction, every biography and autobiography, and, hey, smut too..... everything that ever has been and ever will be written.

Does that mean that writing is nothing more than a random combination of letters? Those monkeys could write out this entire blog, my Italy blog, anything and everything I've ever written, with as much thought to what they're writing as my pinky finger would contribute. I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath right now, and it's beautiful (I'll extoll on Steinbeck's poetic prose in another post.... but in brief, he's godly).... but is it just chance that he put those letters and spaces together in that order? I mean, nothing could have put those words together but pure genius, certainly not chance and eternity; only human thinking could put together such philosophical, complex ideas. How can random typing express philosophy, express all the ways in which we try to express our ideas? And imagine, they'd be typing up works of literature in every language that shares our alphabet, and phonetic versions of every other language.

Durr... This is driving me nuts, and I'm sure I'll start to get repetitive soon. But the work that these monkeys would produce literally is EVERY LANGUAGE, and everything that will EVER BE WRITTEN. What they could write are stories that have not even been written yet.

Tight.

Woot

2006-08-02T17:34:00.000-07:00

Work's going wonderfully! It's a party :)

According to Marisa, I have an authoritative/bitchy mode (best compliment ever!!!) that I slip into when I'm around the kids, that makes them listen to me. Heeheehee. That's from the writing class, I have no doubt. Not to mention the girls in one group who had a ginormous war going on....

One super successful moment was when I was getting this hella-hyper kid, Priscilla, to read and stay focused. I had her read out loud to me, and when she got to words she didn't understand, I'd pronounce them to her and tell her what they meant. I wasn't sure how well she was listening, but she was definitely reading well, and not getting distracted. But afterwards, she referenced one of the vocab words I'd told her, asking "what was that word that means, 'always together'?" And when I told her "inseparable," she slowly annunciated "me and my friend at school are inseparable." It made me feel very teacher-y.

Today was movie day at Dolores Mission, and I drove a carful of guys to the theater (I probably shouldn't be driving kids yet, so I got the big hulky guys instead), and they spilled popcorn everywhere and listened to a crappy radio station. Picture me and Marisa sitting in the front seat, and three guys in the back whistling at girls.... from my car. Way not as romantic as I would have liked to imagine.

Rant after being awake for a full 14 hours (ouch, man.... ouch)

2006-07-31T22:57:00.000-07:00

I AM SUCH AN EFFING SOCIAL RETARD. Merrr. I am very good at sitting silently and observing, except I'm not that wonderfully hilarious silent observer who, after an entire evening of silence, says something totally thoughtful and/or brilliant and/or philosophical and/or totally insightful and/or etc.... no, I just sit silently, and at the end of the evening I say "Thanks for the dinner!"

First day at my new job. It was a little awkward, really just because it's the fifth and final week of the program and I'm just catching the tail end of it, and everyone already knows everyone else. But the kids are cute (there are way fewer than at SEP!), and after work today I went to the St. Ignacius Day mass with Marisa, and it was amazing, even though it was in Spanish and I only understood half of it. Make that four different languages I've now attended mass in: English, Italian, Spanish and German.

Then all Marisa's coworkers (mine now, too, I suppose), and I went out for dinner, at which point I sort of sank into that silent mode which must drive people who know me NUTS. Not that I wasn't enjoying myself, which is what must have come across. I was enjoying listening to everyone and what they said and how they said it.... I think I'm deathly afraid of people judging me if I should happen to say something stupid, so I tend not to say anything till I get an idea of where I can pipe in and sound knowledgeable. I HATE people like that, incidentally. And yet I don't even do it purposely. The thing I dislike most about myself, I suppose. That bedamned silence!

The newest of the new-do!

2006-07-30T10:14:00.000-07:00

(Photos from my photo-shoot this morning out in the cool, foggy air that has totally hidden the mountain right across from my back yard)

Hence the incredibly bad backlight, with my new do silhouetted against it...

I'm so excited about it!!