Red Robin

My stomach is full of Red Robin goodness. Apparently, a single burger contains about half the calories needed in a day. It's like a distilling of the American culture--oversized and delicious. Good thing I forgot to eat breakfast...and lunch. I had a carrot. I am running out of food at home, as we haven't gone grocery shopping in a few weeks. At Red Robin, I ordered the Red Robin Gourmet Cheeseburger with bottomless fries. And a Strawberry malt with whipped cream, sprinkles, and a maraschino cherry. Sadly, no bendy straw. I guess you can't have everything in life.

Anything bottomless is wasted on me. My friends will attest to my small stomach size. (Any kind of bottomless mug/basket policy only serves to remind me of Curse of Monkey Island and the punk kid who has an obnoxious "bottomless mug policy" where the mug really is bottomless. Adherents of the game will catch my drift.)

Today I hand-washed five dresses and watched some episodes of the Big Bang Theory. In a minute I am leaving to go see Tangled for free in the school auditorium. Man, that's a good movie.

Siblings Weekend

Today is Siblings Weekend at college. Neither of mine are here. I wish they were. I miss them.

The End

This morning (for it is indeed morning) my knees ache and I am terribly tired. But life is good. Today, I ran two errands between and after my classes (I paid off a t-shirt from the English department and secured four tickets to my graduation in May), went to the gym, baked cookies at Grace Episcopal for the Sunday service, washed dishes, ate dinner at Keith's with friends from church and Bible study, and finally watched a movie on Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Now, finally at home, I sit on the couch, waiting for the ibuprofen to soothe my aching joints (they ache for a reason, mind you, I walked for 20 minutes, ran for 23, and leg-pressed 90 pounds for a least 70 counts.) It is now snowing.

Tomorrow I have every intention of handwashing some dresses and getting some other practical things out of the way. Like cleaning the bathroom, tidying up the rest of the apartment, and catching up on some homework. I have some reading to do.

I have finished Don DeLillo's White Noise, Harold Frederic's The Damnation of Theron Ware, and John Updike's The Centaur. Quite frankly, having to read all of these in so short a time has not been conducive to good mental health. I put down their disturbing effect on me to my not having eaten very much that day, taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon (which, as you know already, leaves me disoriented and with a vague sense of malaise), and finding very little else to fill my head with at that moment. The paralysis seeps from them like venom. I find the books all rather bleak, desperately grappling with the profound and difficult idea of death. Thank God I am not postmodern.

"When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die."
— Dietrich Bonhoeffer (The Cost of Discipleship)

Bonhoeffer, pastor and theologian, was executed in April 1945 for conspiring against Hitler. He walked naked to the gallows. His last words: "This is the end - for me the beginning of life."

Oxford Dreams

I fell asleep on the couch today. I was reading Don DeLillo's White Noise when I fell asleep and woke two hours later, when Melissa was shuffling off to her evening class. She didn't wake me. I was dreaming something about babysitting four dogs and discovering a large sea snail that walked like a turtle.

I discovered that Oxford offers a two-week creative writing course. I really want to go. But it's so expensive. Well, we can always see what the future holds. I also want to visit Natalie in Scotland and climb Arthur's seat. I haven't seen her in two years now. International relationships can be maintained. They just require more effort. And Frequent Flyer miles.

Here is a link to the summer programme.

http://www.oxford-royale.co.uk/creative-writing-courses

Handmade Envelopes

My friend Melissa is a thrifty, craftsy sort of person. Here she is making an envelope out of a vintage magazine. A clever idea.

 Even as I type, she is baking bread, and the smell of it is muscling its way from the hot kitchen into the bedroom.

Tracy, no panic in a pony-cart.

I don't say things without thinking. Sometimes I just say things that make sense to me, but no one else. Like the time I told Kyle he reminded me of a garden gnome. I meant it as a compliment.

It's a good thing he understood.

Race Fast, Safe Car

Because life is too short for boring band-aids.

Go Hang a Salami, I'm a Lasagna Hog

I hope you've noticed. I've been trying to put more pictures into my blog posts. However, I seem to have vacillated from one end of the spectrum to the other. Firstly, I had only large blocks of text and now I seem to have only pictures. Bear with me during this difficult time of transition.

As for now, my interim in pictures.

Professor Vanden Bosch listens while Professor Vande Kopple explains "Tom Swifties" to the class. (I once read a Hardy Boys-Tom Swifty crossover. I remember liking it. But then again, I am easily entertained.)

Melissa has a bad back. She emptied her bananagram bag (which, she informs me, is a game, like Take 2, which means nothing whatsoever to me as I don't know what Take 2 is either), filled it with uncooked, heated rice, and placed it on the small of her back. She tells me it helped a little.

Last Tuesday, Snowpocalypse was reportedly heading for our city. I was excited. My first blizzard! But I have to say, it wasn't quite as exciting as I thought it would be. Granted, my impressions of American blizzards have probably been influenced by Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter. I guess once you've seen a Swedish winter, the rest pale in comparison.

The next day the sun was out. Melissa wanted to take a walk in the nature preserve and take pictures. I joined her.

I also got around to sewing buttons back onto my shorts. I had been losing them piecemeal for the past few months. When I only had one button left, I realized I had to do something about the situation. Button-sewing and other persnickety things are tasks that tend to stick in the back of my mind, and it's nice to get them done. I no longer have to have the thought of them lurking around the next corner's of my brain.

Snowpocalypse: American Style

Snow Day: Sweden

Final count:
Sweden 1
America 0