Oops

People. Last post was not my six hundredth; it was my five hundred sixtieth (I misread the second digit on my Blogger dashboard!). I apologize for this, and hope that we can celebrate my real six hundredth post when it actually rolls around (though I do appreciate even the premature congratulations).

Anyway, now that I have that out of the way, here's the real news: Monday, David turns 30, and to celebrate, we're jumping out of a plane! Our skydiving appointment is at 1:00 tomorrow, but it will probably take a few hours (we don't know how many) before we're actually jumping.

My mom says that means she gets to worry all afternoon. The only thing that worries me is that the weather won't cooperate and we won't be able to jump, although all the comments about making sure we have our wills in order do add to the drama.

We're actually en route from Hermiston to Portland at the moment; tonight we're planning to go to this shindig, which I discovered thanks to this guy's link--I went to high school with Grey Anne. I'm also wearing my 11-year old glasses (I don't think you can tell in the picture how massively scratched the lenses are [or, for that matter, how underpowered they are], but I think you may be able to see how bent they are, and the charming little replacement screw sticking up at my right temple) because today I'm seeing an optometrist.* I seem to have scratched one of my contact lenses, and although it's wearable, it's not very comfortable. Plus, since I haven't seen an optometrist in more than three years,** it's also time to update my prescription.

This time around, I plan to actually replace these glasses. After years and years of putting it off, when $30 frames somehow morphed into $300 glasses (not at all worth it when I wear them maybe 20 minutes a day, anyway), I am very excited to buy glasses online. David pointed me to this blog, which in turn directed me to this site, and I can't wait to explore the whole scene. I will doubtless, dear readers, post all about it... assuming I survive jumping out of a plane tomorrow! Woo-hoo!

*You have to leave your contacts out for 24-48 hours before the appointment so that your eyeballs can resume their normal shape, or something like that.

** The photo on this page is documentation of the last time I had to leave my contacts out in advance of an appointment (oddly enough, at the very same Mall 205 America's Best as I'm hitting this afternoon).

Australia

Hopefully it's not presumptuous to post this before I actually receive the results of my French final; I am not brokenhearted about my performance or prospects, however, although I am pretty sure I was not correct in "translating" that Louis Pasteur used indigo to stop fermentation in silk worms.

So, on to Australia!

I hadn't seen any previews for this film, so I wasn't sure what to expect, although the reviews I'd encountered had been generally positive. For me, though, it was sufficient that it was (a) Hugh Jackman, (b) Nicole Kidman, and (c) Baz Luhrman. Luhrman's whimsical streak and eye for ridiculously colorful, artistically-staged shots, along with a cast of amazingly attractive actors, made this a very, very pretty film. What kept it from being unbearably saccharine or laughable was their acting skill. Kidman and Jackman are predictably impressive (Luhrman seems to bring out a sort of loopy energy in Kidman that I find charming [as I do her impeccable tailoring], and though Jackman frankly wouldn't have had to say anything to charm me, when he does it's heartfelt and mostly believable), but what was really stunning was the debut performance of Brandon Walters, the film's young protagonist.

I had been warned that the film was three hours long, and when it seemed to be winding down, I was pleasantly surprised at how fast the time had gone. When I sneaked a look at my phone, however, and saw that we'd only been there for two hours, I did feel slightly disheartened--though I was still enjoying myself.

It really was too long, which was unfortunate. It was also a bit contrived and even a little cheesy, but not purely fluffy; it had a surprisingly emotional current and I did cry. Mostly because of the length, I don't feel compelled to go see this again immediately, which I generally do with my very favorite films. So Australia doesn't quite make my Classics list, but it was definitely worth the $5, and a highly enjoyable way to spend an evening. I actually would recommend seeing it on the big screen, even if it's in a few months when it hits the cheap seats, for the full experience of what feels like a revival of old Hollywood glamor (lots of nicely-lit close-ups and expanisve landscape shots) and the drama of classic westerns.

Passed

I passed my oral exams!

Yes, it was harrowing.
Yes, I felt rather stupid, and repetitive, and inarticulate.
Yes, I think I blushed with embarrassment because of all of the above (my ears felt tingly, anyway).

And, yes, my committee made incredibly incisive and insightful and intelligent comments on my prospectus, and now I have to reformulate the whole project, and rewrite the whole thing.

But I passed! And when I came tearing into the TA office afterward, and whooped, "I passed!" my kind friends actually clapped and cheered for me. And then they accompanied me to Acadia, where we celebrated.

Soon, of course, the really hard part... but for now, the sheer relief!

Back

Hello again, Internets. It's been a while. Sorry about that.

Since then, however, I have had good times. Last long weekend, those included:

• Celebrating my birthday downtown with friends
• Attending the Liberty Parade and concert
• Celebrating my birthday at a barbecue with friends
• Biking to St. Paul and back, for the purpose of
  
• Attending the Take Back Labor Day event, my way of
• Protesting the RNC (kind of a lame protest, I admit... but fun)

Here are a few pictures:

This weekend was a bit quieter--a movie out, riding my bike, helping a friend move, attending another barbecue--mostly because I had to recover from my week, which included...
turning in my prospectus in advance of my oral exams...
because...

I passed my written exams!

Unfortunately, the prospectus wasn't very good. However, my friends who have been through this keep telling me that the written exams are more difficult than the orals, and that if I passed the former, I'm golden for the latter. Needless to say, I have my doubts--but I am more than ready to have this over with and be ABD. What an exciting thought that is!

In other news, school has started, and for the first time in something like 20 years (with the exceptions of 2000 and 2003), I will not be attending classes. I find it hard to believe that I've taken all the classes I need for a terminal degree. I know most of you think I've been in school for forever, but seriously, this seems so... so... sudden. (Although, I will admit, hardly crushing; after all, I am still on campus three days out of the week for TA-ing and dissertation workshopping.)

Also, it's cold here. So cold that I've had to close my windows and turn on my electric blanket. A friend and I did still run our nine miles in shorts this morning, but I also wore my trusty jacket.

Oh--and, yeah, nine miles! Knock on wood, but my leg seems okay so far. Hmmm... did I ever actually mention that my stress fracture (or something in the same region) flared up after I did nine at my parents' just before I left, and that I'd stayed off my leg for the next month? Anyway, I'm back, and trying to ease in slowly, but still hoping to be able to rock the TCM.

And finally, in other news I seem not to have mentioned, but discovered looking for the non-existent reference to the leg trouble, I fixed my pointer problem. I disabled the pointer stick. Yesssss.

After

This is what my desk looked like yesterday, just after I turned in my exams. I think the precarious stacks of books and dirty dishes are particularly telling.

But this is what my apartment looks like this morning, with an extra bike and an extra person (sleeping on the couch). As you may already be aware, Ellen is visiting this weekend!

According to local public radio, not only might this be the best weather-weekend of the year here, but we might be having the best weather in the country. (You Northwesterners have been making our news with your temperatures.)

We're going to get out and enjoy it, because goodness knows I can use it after the last two weeks. Written exams are done! As a friend ahead of me in the program put it recently, "Congratulations on being done with your exams. It's all just long, drawn-out anxiety instead of concentrated angst from here on out!"

I'll be angst-ing again soon enough, but this weekend is all about celebrating.

Anniversary

One year ago today, I was pedaling to a Fringe show when I experienced an unexpected change of plans. The short version of the story is that I crashed my borrowed bike (it was fine!), split open my chin and broke a tooth (I was lucky!), and got my first stitches (seven!).

Today, in honor of that anniversary, I've posted a gallery of the pictures I took in the following few days, as well as a few of my chin today. You do not have to look at those pictures! Most of them aren't bad... but I was kind of fascinated by the stitches in my chin, so consider yourselves warned.

So far, this year's Fringe Festival has been far superior. Despite the fact that I'm taking my exams, a friend and I have made it to four shows so far, and plan to see another one or two on Sunday. Given last year's experience (I didn't even make it to the show, but it was apparently so awful that the friends who did claim they would rather have been in the ER...), I might not even have gone this year, had I not met one of the actresses on my way home from the airport last week.

We were attempting to buy light rail tickets from the kiosks as the airport, and sort of chatting as we tried different things. When I had my ticket, I finally actually looked up at her, and realized we had the same hair. "We have the same hair!" I said. She laughed and agreed, and we chatted as we took the elevator down to the platform (both of us rolling massive suitcases); as we stood waiting for the train; and on the train until my stop. It was kind of a surreal experience, actually: not only did we have the same hair, we were almost exactly the same age, had traveled widely, were in graduate school (she was just about to start), were physically active and quite slim, and were adventurers. Talking to her, with her big blue eyes and beautiful skin, was like talking to a prettier, alternate-universe me.

Anyway, she was doing a one-woman show at Fringe, and she gave me a few of her cards, which I offered to put up in the art history department. A friend and I went Saturday night, and loved it! It was funny and engaging and not nearly as weird as some of the one-woman shows I've attended (at the last one I went to, the performer [a classmate, though not in my department!] got naked). My friend and I liked "Leaving Normal" so much that we were inspired to go to a dance show* Sunday (fantastic) and two shows yesterday, one a non-stop laugh fest performed by grown men dressed as squirrels, and one a brilliantly awkward and exquisitely strange show by a guy we'd met at the festival.

Fringe is just one more reason to love Minneapolis.

*There's a video on this page; if you're pressed for time, start at 1:44. I watched it again just now, and I totally want to go see the show again. Last night as I was entering the building to see "An Inconvenient Squirrel," I saw the male performer behind me. "You're the dancer!" I exclaimed, shaking his hand. "We loved your show!" He graciously thanked me, and I said, "Thank you!" That's how much I liked it! Enough to go inappropriately friendly on a complete stranger! Oh, wait...

Riding

People! I just got back from the most incredible bike ride.

I thank you all sincerely for your exam encouragement, in comments on my last post, e-mails, and phone calls. However, I must say that at the moment I'm feeling particularly indebted to Ellen, who this evening e-mailed something along the lines of, "You haven't left the house in three days? You should really ride your bike!"

I only rode about six miles, around the lake and back, but it was fantastic. The fact that I forgot my camera is probably just as well, as I would have been stopping every few feet, and as it couldn't have come close to capturing the evening's splendor anyway. If I could have bottled just this evening's air, or accurately captured only the shadows of the leaves cast on the huge houses around the lake, you'd hardly have believed it. If you had been there, in person, with me, as the evening sun glinted off the kayaks and the cool breeze smelling like warm bark wafted past us, you still wouldn't have believed this evening. That's how amazing it was. A few times a year, I'm convinced that this really is one of the best places on earth to live; tonight was one of them.

When I got home, I had a shirt full of gnats. Funny how a tank top is a perfect scoop when you're leaning over your handlebars.

Now back to work; according to my schedule I'm supposed to finish my first essay tonight. I've written 11.5 pages so far, but am not finished yet. I'm hoping that having finally started squeezing words onto the page my second and third essay will come more easily, but I'm not holding my breath.

Adding slightly to my stress level is the fact that my pointer has started going nuts, traveling slowly or frantically across the screen to lodge in either the lower left or upper right corner. Sometimes I can pry it free and make it work (often by leaning hard on the pointing stick while working the touchpad with my other hand); other times I give up and navigate using the keyboard. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, it behaves normally.

Back to work.

!!

Some of you are dying to know what my exam questions are. Right? Aren't you?

Well, here they are, anyway; as usual, click for larger (legible) version--if you dare. I received them this morning at 10 a.m., with a note from my advisor that concluded, "Good luck!!" This, coming from a woman of few exclamation points, and from whom I don't believe I have ever seen a double exclamation point, has me unsure of whether to be encouraged or petrified. Having oscillated between the two for the past several months, however, I figure another two weeks of it is to be expected.
There are undoubtedly people out there for whom answering these questions would be a snap. I am not one of them.

Still, seeing them, and knowing what I have to do, is much better than the complete fear of the unknown.

So! Off to work!

Polished

I have a Friday Favorite today, Tuesday, because last Friday I was busy allegorizing and next Friday I'll be starting my exams.

Yikes.

Anyway, I have discovered that I really like e.l.f. nail polish. I've been using white and nude all summer to do French manicures, and am consistently impressed with how fast they dry, how smooth and shiny they are, and how long they last. Granted, I've been approximating living a life of luxury with sitting around reading all day, but the polish has also held up to swimming and doing dishes, among other things, even without a top coat. This picture was taken three days after application (one coat of white, two of nude, and no top coat), and the polish is hardly chipped. The best part? Each bottle is only $1. At first I thought the white was too transparent and runny to work for French manicures, but it quickly proved itself effective, and the brush provides excellent control.

Tomorrow morning I fly back to Minneapolis; see you there!

Stuffed

Current boniness notwithstanding, I am a good eater. I've been a good eater since I was a baby; family legend has it that I would cry at the end of mealtimes when the food was taken away. I shared my lima beans with my aunt and uncle's cat, not because I didn't like the lima beans, but because they were my favorite and I thought the cat would like them too. (I think she did.)

A parable

Let's say that I started feeding myself when I was three, and that I started inventing my own dishes shortly thereafter, substituting ingredients I could reach for those I couldn't. Let's say I ate when I was happy, sad, bored, and generally whenever I could. I was a really good eater and passable cook, and everyone thought I'd major in Food in college. I didn't, although college is pretty much about eating, whatever you study, and I did a lot of eating and cooking--more and more challenging dishes.

Then, let's say I did... oh, FOUR... years of graduate study in which eating, and particularly cooking, were even more important. I tried foods I had never even known existed! I created elaborate meals with multiple courses, occasionally in just a few hours and without any sleep while trying to grade my own students' foods.

Now, let's say that in order to continue with my graduate work, I had to pass a test, and the test was this: for my primary, secondary, and outside areas of study, I would prepare lists of the most important dishes in each area--ones I'd already eaten in classes, as well as quite a few I'd never eaten before. I would eat all the new ones, and review the ones I'd already tried.

Then, I would be given two weeks in which to construct three massive, elaborate meals, assigned by three of the chefs whom I respected and admired most, and based on all the dishes on my lists--as well, probably, as anything I'd ever eaten. I would have to be intimately familiar with all of the flavors in the foods on my lists and how they worked with other flavors, and would have to use the chef's constructions of their own dishes to structure my own--breaking down and attempting to understand their own processes of creation so that I could critique and enhance them in my own meals.

Let's say that I had to serve those three massive and elaborate meals to the three chefs, one of whom specializes in each of my three areas. My results would determine whether I would be allowed to... spend the next few years writing my own cookbook. If I messed up, I would get dropped from the program. If the meals themselves were okay, the second part of the exam would be to present a detailed proposal for what the cookbook would look like.

So let's say I have been stuffing my face pretty much non-stop for the past two months and I am both exhausted and so full I can hardly walk. I am sick of food and don't feel like cooking. All the meals I've eaten are beginning to blur a bit in my memory (not to mention give me indigestion). I am starting to wonder whether food is really the game for me and why anyone would ever want to write a cookbook, let alone whether I have what it takes. I'm anxious about what the chefs will assign, and whether what I serve them will make them ill. But at this point, I'm so sick of eating that I'm about ready to start cooking--just to get this over with.

It starts one week from today!

Day twenty

Breakfast: Oatmeal with frozen blueberries and soy milk; gluten-free toast with sugar-free raspberry spread
Snack: Apple with peanut butter
Lunch: Mujadara; crudites with hummus; cherries
Dinner: Brown rice spaghetti with marinara; steamed broccoli; popsicle
Later: Another popsicle

People! Did you see that? Day twenty. Finally. Tomorrow this cleanse business ends. It's a bit ironic, because I've finally been feeling really good--lots of energy Sunday, yesterday, and today. However, there's no way I'm sticking with all of my current restrictions forever. It's just too hard to get enough calories!

Reason #57 why I may fail my exams

So I'm reading Anna Karenina, and loving it. I don't know if it's just the Wuthering Heights Effect* or not, but I'm always excited to crack it open when I'm eating or before bed, and would certainly much prefer to read it to whatever is on the exam bibliography for the day. I did not expect to like it this much; although several of you have recommended it, I've had some experience with Tolstoy, and happen to know he's crazy. I've read other Russians, too (including Solzhenitsyn's One Day in the Life, Chekhov's Three Sisters, Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov, Gogol's Dead Souls, and Nabokov's Pale Fire and Lolita) and figured that the best way to get through a substantial (800 page!) novel like this one would be to contrast it with something I'd rather avoid, like the readings for my exams. I ended up really liking The Brothers Karamazov, but that occurred only after a painful slog through the first THREE QUARTERS OF IT. Anyway, 'turns out that Anna isn't a slog at all. I'm totally digging it and will write more about it later.

So this morning at breakfast, I finished my oatmeal, and wanted to both eat some more and keep reading, so I decided to make toast. When I pulled out the sugar-free blueberry jam from the fridge, I dropped it onto the tile floor and it shattered.

So I cleaned it up, and then, because jam is sticky and there were still glass particles on the floor, I swept and mopped not just the kitchen, but the entire floor, from the entry way and hallway through the living room, dining room, and kitchen.

And then, even though it was getting later and later, but because I still had toast in the toaster, I got out the sugar-free raspberry jam and ate that on my toast while I continued reading.

Then I turned on my computer because I needed to order postage for a book that was due at the Minneapolis Public Library today. After an hour of looking at blogs and news and e-mailing (which is the reason I've been trying not even to turn my laptop on until I've gotten some productive reading in), I ordered the postage.

By the time I got around to finally reading, I kind of wanted a snack. And a nap.

Today wasn't so productive. This is why I'm in trouble. I think there may be people in the world who would overcome and triumph by locking themselves in a bare room and simply forcing themselves to read, but I am not one of them. With some of the books, I've been making good, speedy, progress. With others, I feel like I'm dragging myself across the pages. Then I berate myself because time is flying and I haven't read everything.

Except Anna Karenina, that is. Unfortunately, I'll pretty sure she won't be showing up on my exams.

*I read Wuthering Heights the summer I was in Florence, between sessions, when I should have been fully immersed in Italian. Instead, I sneaked chapters of Wuthering Heights, which an American friend had left behind, and I LOVED it. I haven't revisited the book, but based on others' overwhelming impressions of it, I'm thinking my enjoyment may have had primarily to do with the context of it being my guilty pleasure.

Day eighteen

Breakfast: Puffins with soy milk; gluten-free toast with sugar-free blueberry jam
Brunch: Oatmeal with raisins and soy milk
Starbucks: Decaf, sugar-free, iced vanilla soy latte
Dinner: Butternut squash risotto; salad; popsicle

Today I met the inimitable Erin and Mandy at Cabazon. We spent quite a while at Starbucks just chatting; I mostly grilled Erin about genetics (about which I'm [not quite inexplicably--though it might take a while] reading for my upcoming exams), and she clearly and thoughtfully explained all about DNA and genes and transcription. She knew the material and mechanisms so well, as I explained it to my dad later, that it was like having someone studying calculus explain addition. How great is that?

None of us is much of a shopper, but somehow we did the entire circuit of outlets, and all ended up with a bunch of great stuff. They put in a Banana Republic outlet just last month, and everything there was 40% off. I got a pair of jeans, a pair of slacks, two tops, and a jacket, for $153. Elsewhere, I found a pair of brown flats, argyle socks, a teal button-down sweater, and a sun dress (J. Crew! $24!). I don't remember the last time I bought so many clothes. It was nice to be able to stock up, though, and at such good prices. It's probably too much to hope for not to teach sections next semester, but at least if I do now, I'll have something to wear.

Afterward, we sat around and talked some more. I babbled about my "research," which (thanks to the friends who ask me about it and nod encouragingly when I try to make sense out of the different things I've been studying and want to explore) is starting to take a bit more shape in my mind. Mandy spoke much more elegantly and coherently about therapy and life.

I came home exhausted but glowing. "I like those girls so much!" I exclaimed to my mom. "Ahhh, blog friends," she responded. It's kind of funny to me that they are "blog friends," and that if we didn't have our blogs, we wouldn't know each other. It's more than that, though. Through this whole weird blogosphere-deal, I've met two thoughtful, intelligent women, who can discuss the implications and ethics of eugenics, and then help me pick out which color of top looks best.

I have my doubts about Internet dating (although I know I shouldn't knock it till I've tried it, et cetera), but Internet quality-friend-finding? Yes please.

Day fourteen

Breakfast: Puffins and soy milk
Snack: Cantaloupe
Lunch: Vegetable-tofu curry; nectarine; pistachios
Snack: Apples and peanut butter
Dinner: Brown rice pasta salad; cantaloupe

So today ended the second week, and quite honestly, I'm feeling pretty over this whole cleanse. For one thing, although it's not too far from my usual fare, I'm getting a little bored with my meal options. For another, despite all my eating, I'm hungry much of the time. (If I didn't have to do all this reading, I could eat all day long, but as it is, it's rather disruptive. Also, I'm trying to keep weight instead of lose it, and so hungry isn't how I want to feel.)

Then there's the fact that I'm not feeling all that great. Once again, it could be anything from the usual list--reading all day, being inside all day, feeling stressed about my exams and life, the heat, the early morning workouts, the not running--and not a direct effect of the cleanse, but I've been feeling tired, headache-y, and depressed instead of cleansed and energetic. For a while I thought my skin was doing better, but then my face broke out again.

Maybe it's like running, where two miles are hard, but three feel great?

Reading

My job this summer is reading for the exams I keep mentioning. These are my PhD qualifying exams, or something like that (my dad said I'd better hope the first question isn't "What are these tests called?"). The way they work is that I submit bibliographies to three of my four committee members, based on coursework I've done for them and my own research interests. They submit a question each, which I am to answer in approximately 10 pages. I have two weeks to write these three papers, currently scheduled to begin on August 1.

At one point my advisor estimated that I should be reading a book a day, and I'm a little behind on that. The good news, though, is that I just counted, and it looks like the number of full books I need to read for the first time is only 22! Oh, and I've finished two of those already, and am almost through a third. The rest are things I've read before, and although I'll definitely need to review them, they're not quite as daunting.

I spent all day today reading and my brain feels a little fried. Parts were good and useful, but there were lots of fairly dreadful bits. Here are a few:

"This connection of touch that traverses time and space establishes a relation that in turn affects the form and space of all bodies including the 'body-politic,' inviting the body as embodiment of a diverging chronotope to become other to that of the nation-state's solitary spaces of confinement." (59)

"The actualization of potential energy alters states, causing shifts from individuation to individuation through the metastability of transduction. In other words, engenderings alter the relation between time, space, and bodies as bodies time space and space time. What a body can do is in-formed and de-fromed by this potential energy at both the level of the individualizing individual and at the level of state politics." (102)

"The senses supplement sense: external and internal to sense-as-signification, the senses extend what it is to 'know,' challenging implicitly the manner in which the conditioning of sense continues to be allocated to a strict economy of reason as extrinsic from the body. Sense, sensing, senses, making sense, making senses supplement signification by rendering it bodily, by adding to the body, by extending the capacity to know into a sensual apparatus. Signification is sensual, it turns out, and politics make sense." (130)

"The mind is an insidious little saboteur," I read once, though Google's not helping me out as far as who said it. When I'm trying to slog through text like this, and having difficulty feeling remotely absorbed, my mental chatter goes into overdrive. A couple of times today, I caught it saying, "Blah, blah, blah," over the top of what I was reading. Another of its favorite tricks is to pull up images, like flashcards, often of painful memories, or introduce complex problems that I should maybe try to run in the background, in case I'm not already working hard enough. Often, fighting my own thoughts is more challenging than understanding the reading. It leaves me tired and cranky.

It's becoming increasingly evident that I need to outrun the crazies, but I'm still working on that. As much as I dislike treadmills, I want to get one so I can run without dying of heat stroke (it hit 110 today, and this is the forecast for the rest of the week):
The listed highs are 106, but the detailed text says 108-113. That's clearly too hot to run outside, and makes the 83 my parents air condition their house to feel pretty balmy. Now I just have to find a treadmill.

Hawa(III)

Here are the rest of the Hawaii pictures from the real camera. There are even fewer than I remembered, and they're mostly of Diamond Head!

Another thing I did while I was there was a lot of reading. I finished the last third or so of Altered Carbon, which I had begun to re-read almost as soon as I finished it the first time. April brought Eat, Pray, Love, which I read in a single weekend after she finished it. I also re-read Neuromancer, a classic cyberpunk novel that's referenced in a lot of the literature I've been reading for my exams, and which my advisor, serendipitously, just suggested I add to my exam biblio, thus allowing me to consider that time on the beach "studying." I'll try to give more complete reviews over at the book blog soon.

Hawa(II)

I'm finally feeling guiltier about not blogging than about not reading for my exams, so here are the camera phone pictures from Hawaii:

The full album is here (you can leave comments on pictures!), and a few pictures from the real camera will follow; unfortunately, I left that cord in Honolulu, and don't have it yet. I also thought I had packed batteries, but didn't find them, so I used only the camera phone for the last few days we were there.

It was really a magnificent trip, and I could feel all sorts of toxins draining out of me (though it wouldn't really have been a vacation if I hadn't replaced some of them with a different sort, would it have?). As you can see from the pictures, we did a lot of lying on the beach and a lot of eating.

I tried to be a good sun-citizen, wearing my sunglasses and big hat and taking down an entire 16 ounce bottle of SPF 45 nearly single-handedly, but still managed to catch some tan (and burned a little bit snorkeling the first Saturday, though I wore a shirt and shorts out the next week). I like looking a little sun-kissed, but I have to keep reminding myself that it's just damage, and that I have too much of that as it is. Sigh.

In addition to beach-lying and eating, we did some other vacation-y stuff. We snorkeled twice at Hanauma Bay, where we saw lots of fish, including the state fish of Hawaii (the humuhumunukunukuapua'a, which April likes to call either a "statie" or "the humma humma fish"), a huge rainbow fish I could hear gnawing on the reef, and an eel. April took some underwater pictures, but I haven't seen those yet. We hiked Diamond Head, which had some fantastic views (pictures to come), but was frustratingly glutted with people. April and I had facials and massages at a tiny spa close to the apartment, where Fuki, a large Japanese man, was so focused on his work that he breathed heavily through his mouth pretty much the whole time, including when he was on top of the table ("Excuse me, excuse me") and pulled me into some of the best stretches I've ever had (one of which he enacted by slinging a towel under my jaw and rotating my head from side to side). When he first started working, he asked if I had been in an accident. I mentioned last summer's crash, but said it was probably mostly just tension. When he found out I was a PhD student, he said, "Lucky for you that I am good therapist!" Was he ever.

We did the Pearl Harbor monument and the Dole Plantation in the same day. If you go to Oahu, I think you're pretty much culturally obligated to do the former (I was there with my senior class 10 years ago, and that would have held me for life, probably), but Dole is pretty much straight-up commercial tourism. We paid to tour the garden and take the little train ride around the plantation, and then had pineapple softserve (for Chris and me) and a pineapple float (for April).

On Monday, April and I took the bus to Pearl Harbor, where we met Chris to drive farther north to the Polynesian Cultural Center. It was the first time for all of us; it had been an optional activity on my class trip, but being poor and more interested in beaching, I had visited Waimanalo with friends instead. This time we got the package that included entry to the villages, an IMAX film, a luau, and the evening show. Even with Chris's substantial military-connection-discount, it was pretty expensive, and if I were to do it again, as a childless vegetarian, I would probably opt just for the evening show. It was fun seeing the demos and playing the games in the villages, and I liked the orchid leis at the luau, but the food (at least the veggie options available) wasn't very good, and I got plenty of singing and dancing at the evening show. Still, the admission goes to help support education, so I can't complain.

The next day, April and I took the bus to Kailua beach, which was quieter and cleaner than Waikiki and had better waves. The bus doesn't go quite there, and although the guidebook mentions a shuttle, I never actually saw one. We had to wander through a few residential streets to get to the park, which led to one of my favorite moments of the trip; after asking directions of a couple of guys working on a house and chatting with them momentarily, one called after us, as we turned to leave, "You guys are beautiful!" His Montreal accent, and the somewhat baffled inflection on his last word, left me giggling all day.

So, Wednesday we flew out and now I'm in the desert. My Thursday travel ended up being rather a nightmare, despite the cavalier tone of my last post; I got an e-mail a bit before I was to catch my bus that my flight to LA had been delayed, meaning I would miss my connection to Palm Springs. I called United, and they assured me that they had put me on a flight to San Francisco, that would make it to LA in time for me to make my connection to Palm Springs. However, the SFO flight was to leave 70 minutes before my LAX flight, so I grabbed my things, literally ran to the bus station, and just caught the bus. At the counter, they were very nice to me, apologized for the long trip I was about to have ('turns out, of course, it ended up being much longer than it looked at that point...), and escorted me to the front of the security line. When I arrived, panting, at my gate, I discovered that the SFO flight had been delayed 20 minutes... and, long story short, as you may have guessed, I ended up missing my connection to LAX and had to be put on a later flight. I'll spare you the weeping and gnashing of teeth, but will just say that although they did finally get me to LAX, the soonest they could book me to PSP was the next evening (sans vouchers/options for car, hotel, food, or even apologies); that my parents drove the entire way to LAX to rescue me; that my luggage didn't arrive until the next afternoon; and that I WILL NEVER FLY UNITED AIRLINES AGAIN IF I CAN HELP IT.

Anyway, now I'm in the desert. Yesterday there was a coyote in the backyard. This is the picture I got of him after I went back inside to retrieve my camera phone; he's on the other side of the fence here. I put a circle around him in case you can't see him--he's so well camouflaged that I had to study the picture at full size to find him, even though I'd taken it!

Stateside

I write from the Seattle Central Library, where rain is running down the fancy diamond-paned high-tech glass above and around me here on the 10th floor. I've read about this library, watched the excellent Ted presentation by one of its designers, looked at lots and lots of photos, and even written a short paper on it (as metaphor), but it's very exciting to actually be here in person--precipitation and all. Our brother picked my sister and me up last night after our flight back from Honolulu, and I crashed on his floor. We rode the bus into downtown together this morning, and in an hour I'll meet my aunt for lunch before catching another bus to the airport (where I was able to leave my suitcases last night).

In the meantime, I've been frantically reading blogs in an effort to avoid thinking about the reading lists for my exams. My advisor needs them, and I know I'll feel much better once I've actually submitted them, but in the meantime the task feels so daunting that I can't really face it. I'll face it soon, though, and it will be okay.

I have lots to say, though I'll have to save it for procrastination posts later. Remind me to write about...

• Hawaii! (Diamond Head, Hanauma Bay, Dole Plantation, Polynesian Cultural Center, Hilton Hawaiian Village, Kailua Beach, and more...)
• Indiana Jones and Sex and the City
  
• Television and pop culture
• Barack Obama!
• Anxiety dreams and the causes thereof

I also have lots of pictures to post, so get ready!

Finally

• Hi again, Internets.
• It's been a while. I've been uninspired/too busy/not busy enough, apparently.
• But I just got done with my last class of the semester, of my last semester of classes.
• And this morning I turned in my paper for the seminar that had the conference. This was not the paper I presented at the conference; this was an additional short project proposal. Mine was 10 pages long.
• I went to school to print it off and turn it in, and then I went to Grandma's with friends for lunch to celebrate.
• I had forgotten that I had class at 6:00, and hadn't come to school prepared with work to fill the time, so I went home. Where I managed not to work. Although I did bake cookies for class.
• I have one more short paper to write and my students' finals to grade.
• I'm also still trying to write that review of a friend's show.
• Last night a couple of friends and I saw The Bank Job. I like heist movies, and this one was okay. I think we ended up giving it a collective 7.5.
• The last time I'd been at the Riverview with Ed was when the bridge fell down.
• The last movie I'd seen in a theater was Atonement (and was disappointed).
• I had a facial a week ago Tuesday.
• The aesthetician told me I needed to include more fat in my diet, so I've been taking flax seed oil. And truffles, when the opportunity presents itself (like at lunch today).
• We're going for pedicures on Thursday morning.
• I haven't had a professional one in a year. When I ran the marathon in October, I lost several toenails, and they've all finally grown in enough that I can show my feet to a professional.
• One week from tomorrow, I fly to Seattle. And then to Hawaii.
• My brother-in-law will be working at Pearl Harbor, and my sister and I are going for a couple of weeks (they scored a sweet companion fare flight for me).
• I told her I'll have to be reading for my exams while we're lying on the beach; I think she may ply me with frosty drinks and see how long I last.
• After this semester, that sounds pretty good to me.
  

Breaking

My pictures and mini-travelogue aren't quite as exciting as Curly Sue or Strovska's, but here they are anyway:

Wednesday: I leave Minneapolis

Thursday: While Bryant is in the field, I read and work at the coffee shop across the UNLV campus from his apartment


Friday: We drive to Red Rocks, go to the coffee shop with Bono on the wall, and explore the strip



Saturday: More coffee (tea), the MGM lions, a Cirque du Soleil show (not pictured), and the fountains and conservatory at the Bellagio

Sunday: These are the wild kitties Bryant feeds; they're very shy.

Monday: I soak up sun in beautiful DHS

Tuesday: My parents and I eat and hang out in Palm Springs in the warm sunshine

Wednesday: Beanna and I chat in the sunshine and do a little shopping; I fly home.

Now I'm back in Minneapolis and we're having a Winter Storm. Most of the snow had melted when I got back early Thursday morning, but then it started snowing last night and has been going all day today. Sigh.

I am happy to have had such a lovely--if brief--reprieve from my real life, but it does make it hard to come back. Did you see how nice the UNLV campus is? People actually live in these warm, sunny places--I know some of them personally!

The truth, of course, is that I'm very fortunate to be able to travel to, and to have lived in, such diverse and varied places. And someday, hopefully soon, I should be able to live closer to my favorite people--and maybe even someplace warm.

But in the meantime, I need to go be studious, or I won't be able to pass my classes and exams and get out of here.

...stronger...

This morning in the class I have with my advisor, she kindly suggested that we might want to have a meeting before the end of the semester. I think she mostly wanted to talk about what classes I was planning to take in the spring; I told her I'd been thinking about a meeting for quite a while and that I already had a title ready: the "I Don't Know How to Do my PhD" meeting. She laughed at that (she's a wonderful person), and later in her office when we talked about it, she made me feel even better by saying that if I did know exactly what I was doing, I wouldn't be sitting in her office--I'd be heading off somewhere with my degree in my hand.

Even better than that, she called my ramblings on what I'm interested in ("Feminine beauty... the monstrous feminine... the cyborg, although I'm afraid that's dead...") a topic. A dissertation topic! When I mentioned how much that term flattered my poor, scattered collection of ideas, she reassured me that she had once based an entire seminar paper in graduate school, of which she was very fond and keeps hoping to turn into a larger publication, on "beds." And she really just made me feel very good about the possibility of developing a real topic, being able to form a committee based on it, successfully taking my exams with that committee, and then actually writing a dissertation.

I realize that my insecurities may sound silly, but they are very real and omnipresent, as anyone who's been in this position knows well. I have always been good at school; school has been the thing I can do. But I am increasingly convinced that I may not, in fact, be all that great at this level of school* and don't, moreover, actually know anything. And as self-aware as that may sound, it's fairly terrifying when you're supposed to be taking your qualifying exams in... say... eight months.

In any case, I have been avoiding both the foot-high stack of papers my students turned in today (which I did bring home; the mass of timeline assignments they also turned in today is currently occupying my entire corner of the TA office) and the final take-home essay assignment that was given today. My professor (my brilliant advisor, she of the timeline assignment) has really outdone herself on this last one. It's simple, elegant, and yet devastatingly complex:

"Ted Nelson first published his Computer Lib in 1974. Donna Haraway first published her Cyborg Manifesto in 1985. Critical Art Ensemble published their critique of nomadic power in 1994. We're long overdue for a new manifesto. Write a manifesto for the visual arts having to do with one or more of the themes/issues we've been discussing such as biopower, life, the vision machine, cyborgs, or interactivity. Take a look at the various manifestos we've read this semester to develop a model."

There it is. I'm going to bed. To sleep on it.

*It may be sort of like an academic version of the Peter Principle.