Welcome to Survivor Newark edition. We're on Day 2, with minimal blood loss.
A friendly billboard reading "HELP WANTED: STOP THE NEWARK KILLINGS" welcomed me to the city.
I recall being upset when they changed the slogan on West Virginia's greeting signs from "Wild and Wonderful" to "Open for Business." But this...I mean really, what is a billboard going to do to solve the problem? Apparently the ad campaign is sponsored by the local teachers union...so if the intent is to encourage teachers because there's a link between the violence and insufficient educations, I suppose it makes some sense. Although anything that deep on a highway sign is not only unlikely, it's also nearly as unnerving as the TRUTH fish eating DARWIN fish that I'm seeing everywhere these days. How did I get this bitter and cynical?
(has anyone else read "The Handmaid's Tale" does anyone else find the scenario eerily familiar?)
Am I the only one getting the impression that this country's infrastructure is collapsing? My Mom feels that part of the problem is a lack of a push for public transport (cause while the automotive industry may have some lobbying power, Amtrak...well...yeeeeh...), part politicians trying to make compromises between engineers on projects such as levies that keep New Orleans from flooding and bridges, and of course, education.
at this point can we even turn it around?
mmmm...politics, the other white meat.
That being said, my pad is awesome, and quite close to NYC (got a lovely view of the skyline from my room in fact.) I'm enjoying the big-assed bed, the massive newly built apartment, and the other perks of graduate living.
my friends constructed a machine to shoot flour at people today. They wheedled a hole in a leaf blower and dissected a water bottle to use as a magazine - but couldn't find any flour, so they used powdered sugar instead.
In minutes there was sugary goodness everywhere - in our hair, mouths, underwear.
was this a part of high school that I missed out on while i was practicing the bassoon and reading books?
At the moment I'm living in the slave quarters of an old plantation house,
I love the place - with its hobbit doors and chest high shower heads.
there's a hole under our little abode, and down there you'll find a room with two benches cut out of the rock that emits bad mojo.
The landlords describe their home as "not as demanding as our house in Maryland."
which, apparently, they had to redecorate numerous times, until the house was "content"
I hope I'll have the opportunity to live in homes with this much character in the future.
It's worth the mold and the bizarre temperature changes.
So very springlike today, you'd think the seasons stopped doing crack.
I moved to Georgia - briefly - because while living Deliverance was interesting, it seems that a little town in West Virginia owns my soul. Who'd a thunk? So I'm back in Shepherdstown, and I encourage you to visit. The coffee is incredible.
It turns out that my portfolio was passable enough to land me in an MFA program for creative writing. As of September, I'll be based at Rutgers.
That's a good two years until wanderlust kicks in again and I return to Slavic studies.
Despite my current access to cable TV, I can't bring myself to watch the news (outside the Daily Show)
I read it, but I can't watch it.
After listening to my church choir butcher mass this Sunday, I feel obligated to start a list of Christmas Hymns that are most painful when attempted by musically challenged individuals. The list would include (but is certainly not limited to):
1. What Child is This
2. O, Holy Night
3. Oh Come Oh Come Emmanuel
and Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming is somewhere on the top ten.
I need to get back to journaling, and post something "meaningful" other than short comments on celebrity deaths.
but. Turkmenbashi? Who will Russian studies majors crack drunken in-jokes about now?
it's been a long time since I've put forth a decent post.
instead, this is the sort of highbrow entertainment i've been indulging in lately.
``I have wondered a great deal about why I have so got it in for Putin,'' she speculates in ``Putin's Russia.'' ``What is it that makes me dislike him so much as to feel moved to write a book about him?'' She partly answers her own question by saying ``Putin, a product of the country's murkiest intelligence service, has failed to transcend his origins and stop behaving like a lieutenant-colonel in the Soviet KGB. He is still busy sorting out his freedom-loving fellow countrymen; he persists in crushing liberty just as he did earlier in his career.'' (Bloomberg
RIP Anna Politkovskaya.
So...I've been yanked off the river for pretty much the rest of the year.
Meanwhile I'm being thrown from one ER to another, to the cornea specialists and back to the ER again.
(It's ok. I don't want to have any fun on my birthday anyway.)
The good thing about this is a whole slew of really talented (not to mention cute) docs from Wills Eye Hospital are taking really good care of me and making sure I don't you know, stay blind in one eye
(I can see colored blobs now instead of just light or dark. this convinces me they're doing the right thing)
From the way they're talking about "trying to avoid too much permanent scarring" and "it should heal in about 4-6 weeks. then we can work on improving her vision" gives me the impression there's plenty of bad news. Basically it's a corneal ulcer gone crazy...and all those cute lil bacteria that I picked up in the river were doing their damnedest to poke a whole through my cornea or something like that.
Yeh. I took music theory and rocks for jocks instead of real science classes, folks.
Like any good disciple of Walden, I went into the woods and within the space of a few weeks had already declared ALL OUT WAR with my environment.
Fucking poison ivy.
SO! I'm back in the Johns Hopkins library (read: social hub), hoping that by the time I return to the woods the poison will have worked, leaving all the wildlife within the near vicinity of my tent DEAD.
But I am still loving my job and enjoying life.
Or at least, I'm enjoying the act of extinguishing other life.