Nerds in love

J and I went for a walk today in the chilly spring rain. We invented a new binary system. It is not monotonic.

Things that are cuter than a baby duck:
Kittens
Puppies
Baby Bunnies
Lambs
the word 'lollipop'

Things that are not cuter than a baby duck:
Other types of baby birds
Baby polar bears
Elmo
Poodles
Baby seals

I'm not really sure what the value of a baby duck as a heuristic is. I mean, a baby duck is pretty darn cute, so I think this system sets the bar pretty high. It only separates the top 10 percent from the rest.

We were also pleased to identify goldfinches and house finches on our walk.

I am excited for spring and summer!

Fork in your eye!

Him: Y'know, I was reading about this physicist guy who does lots of great work, and is really brilliant, and he doesn't even have a phd.

Me: Yeah, people like him, the universe make them in order to mock people like us.

Him: Oh geez, what what his name? Ah well, I'm going for a run. Have a great day.

Me: I'm so blogging this.

*leaves*

Me: Wait, was he just talking about Einstein? Why do I suddenly feel stupider, as if the joke was on me instead of by me?

Resolved

I will be more productive for the remainder of the semester.

I will get all of the assignments currently in my possession graded by Friday.

I will exercise 3 times this week.

I will enjoy the Film Festival this weekend.

I will take Vitamin C every day this week.

A total crap day

Woke up in a panic. Tea and pancakes helped the panic subside. Did no grading. Went to Goodwill, tried on blazers. Blazers do not look attractive on my body. Despaired of ever being able to look professional and adult. Realized that I need a haircut. Cannot afford to go to my regular haircut guy. Purchased a copy of Watchmen. Realized have no time to actually read Watchmen, b/c must work on research. Took class on tour of art museum. Everyone showed up on time, but they did not really pay attention or take notes. I don't know how I will represent the information presented today on the exam. Started to freak out about writing exams and quizzes. Came home. Bus was full. Apparently am suddenly the crazy lady who smiles and talks to strangers' babies. Baby did not smile back. Am possibly quite monstrous and scary to babies. Had to sit on sideways facing seat on bus. Subsequently felt carsick. No interesting mail or email. Am here alone, except for cats. Have promised to prepare dinner, have no energy for making dinner. Panic has returned, full blast. May possibly throw up or cry. Joyous.

Wit escapeth me...

Last week was Spring Break. I did many productive things. Such as:

• Purchase a new bike.
• Ride said bike.
• Grade papers.
• Work on quilt project.
• Learn to knit lace.
• Read the final 4 Harry Potter books for the zillionth time.
• Sleep.

I blame the Harry Potter on the TV. Every once in a while, one of the stations declares that it is Harry Potter Weekend, and they show the first four movies, two a night. The fourth movie is so unsatisfactory compared to the book, that I always want to go back and read the book. And once I read the fourth book, I read the fifth book, and so on. Is there some kind of OCD that pertains only to consumption of narratives? Because I think I may have it.

Other than loving being on vacation, I've been feeling kind of blah lately. And now that vacation is over, I'm left with the blah, plus the guilt for all the actually productive things I promised myself I'd get done over vacation, but didn't. Can I have another week off, please? I promise I'll spend it in the library...

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle... the PETA version.

It took me about 12 months to become a fairly strict lacto-ovo vegetarian.
It started with a lenten resolution. Going off to a fairly hippie college and becomming friends with a lot of vegetarians was the next step. The cafeteria mystery meat made the whole path easier. By the time the next spring had rolled around, not only was I not observing Lent, I was convinced that I would never want to eat meat again.

I still don't observe Lent, not in the traditional sense of abstention and pre-Easter purification. But I have started eating meat again.

I stopped practicing regular lacto-ovo-vegetarianism a few years ago, and began occasional forays into the world of pescatarianism. However, I still publically identified as a vegetarian - just "one who eats fish" despite the fact that that term is self-contradictory, and that it used to make me really really angry. Why did I do it? For the same reason all the other people that I used to be so stinkin' self-righteous about did it - nobody knows the difference between a pescatarian and a muscatarian or a vascatarian or a secretarian, and the people of this world, bless their collective souls, are more able and willing to wrap their minds around a contradiction in terms than a new latin term. Also, I just got tired of explaining it all the time.


But, yes. Now I don't just eat fish-that-are-not-vegetables, I also eat meat-that-is-not-a-vegetable. Like cows and chickens and stuff.

It still bothers me that something has to die so that I may be nourished, but I am more comfortable now with the way that life circles.

The violent, inhumane way that most meat animals are treated in this country is still a problem for me, but I am comfortable purchasing meat from responsible farmers who treat their animals well.

I used to feel that I was making an environmental impact by choosing to eat low on the trophic scale. I now feel that I can make more of an environmental impact by trying to eat locally and with the seasons.

I am not any kind of a vegetarian any more.

I am scared to be public about this, because I do not want people to expect me to eat meat as a given. I'm certainly not a meatatarian just because I'm not a vegetarian. The smell of raw meat still squicks me out. I still don't like the texture and taste of some meats. I still eat mostly vegetables/grains, etc, but every once in a while, I eat some meat. A few bites of chicken or beef, a soup made with home-made stock, a few bits of some kind of salty, cured meat added to a stew for flavor? Sure, I eat that. But I would probably gag if I tried to eat a pork chop or hamburger.

There is no comfortable label for my new eating practices. I liked having a label. It simplified things.

It's rain-snowing outside, and to keep the melancholy at bay I've got a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. Instead of melancholy, nostalgia comes rushing into my heart as the house fills with the smell of garlic, tomatoes, roasty olive oil and black pepper. I've been eating this same spaghetti since before I can remember - the picture from my first birthday party show me wearing it on my face. We ate spaghetti once a week growing up, if at all possible, then on a Thursday, we eat it for Christmas Eve, and now every time I go home to visit, my mom makes spaghetti to welcome me.

It's one of those organic family recipies - I couldn't tell you how to make it if I tried, because I don't measure anything - I just add this and that until "it looks right." Which is how my mom makes it. Which is how her mom made it. Which is probably also how her mother-in-law made it. It cooks on the stove all day, simmering, simmering and covering the countertops in about sixty gazillion little crimson splatters which will piss me off tomorrow, but today don't bother me a bit because they're a part of the game, and the spaghetti wouldn't taste right if I covered it with a screen while it cooked.

What do you cook when you miss home?