some things that are going on

baking
I made doughnuts the other day, both raised and cake kind. I watched Alton Brown making them on Good Eats the other day (the raised kind) and thought to myself, “That looks like fun — and tasty to boot!” So I decided to make some. When I mentioned this to my dad, he told me that our former bishop’s wife (not our bishop’s former wife) makes good doughnuts, so I asked her if she had any pointers. She gave me her cake doughnut recipe, and I made a batch of those too. I had some trouble getting the oil to the right temperature at first, but with a little help from Mom, they turned out just fine. The only trouble was that, by the time they were finished cooking, Dad had started his fast for the next day, and Mom and I were almost late for watching the Relief Society broadcast. So they’re now sitting here — at least two dozen of them, still. In the meantime, Dad and Mom have both become sick, and I’m afraid I’m coming down with it too.

running
The other day I had a fabulous run. It was rather late, so it was already dark, but I had missed my best opportunity earlier in the day, thinking it was going to rain. It didn’t at the time, and while I waited for it to, it actually snowed for some time. But that had cleared up and melted away by the time of the RS broadcast, so afterward I went out for my run. I’ve recently learned that it’s a great help to me when I run in places I’m unfamiliar with. So that day I took a path I never have before, and it was simply amazing. On the other day, today’s run (which also followed a new path) was awful. I didn’t make it for my whole time, but I was so out of breath and so horribly sick to my stomach that I simply couldn’t make it any further. I’m hoping that had something to do with my feeling sick.

work
My brother and sister-in-law are going on vacation this week, taking a cruise to the Bahamas. They’ve hired me to “nanny” their five kids while they’re gone. I’m looking forward to the extra money and the nannying experience. I just hope I don’t get them sick! (B isn’t worried about it, so I’m still planning to do.)

church
I got a new assistant for my FHE calling, which is nice. It’s a load off my shoulders, and it was especially convenient today, when I was able to call her up and ask her to take over the whole she-bang since I’m not feeling well. (She was already in charge of the lesson anyway, so it wasn’t that huge a deal.) I do feel a little bad for her, though, since this is now the third calling she has!

books & reading
Mom and I have been reading James’s “The Turn of the Screw,” which is great preparation for Halloween season. We both are finding James’s syntax rather challengning, though. Today I told Mom that I might have to start pulling sentences from James as examples of poor syntax in my composition classes, and have the students re-arrange the clauses into more understandable sentences. (Though I’m not sure yet whether I would want to tell my students that these examples are from an established author.)

I also picked up a book from the library on the life of Augustine, which I’m excited for. I’ve decided that I have to do some real, serious reading this week, and I figure that will help me with my planned quick-through of Augustine’s major writings that I borrowed from one of the professors at BYU-Idaho. I also got about four Georgette Heyer books, in hopes that these would help Mom and me through our illness.

quote

As he pretended to ignore me, I pretended to ignore him. (21 points)

The last quote was from the Leslie Howard version of The Scarlet Pimpernel, one of my favorite moments in that movie. The quote before that was from an episode of Futurama — Man 1 was the Professor, Man 2 was Fry, and [name] was Bender. I just think that show’s is hilarious!!

 

WWED

I’ve lately been working a temp job in the credit department of a local flour company. That’s right. I process paperwork all day. In case you were unsure, it’s as boring as all get-out. Not to mention repetitive. Highly repetitive.

I do quite well with repetitive work, really. I enjoy not having to think too hard and being able to concentrate on other things (like audiobooks, or — this week — the glory of Muse). But I do have a tendency, when performing repetitive tasks, to work a little too quickly, overlooking things and letting errors slip in. To combat this weakness of mine, I have been double- and triple-checking my work at the flour mill, trying to slow myself down. I checked things that no one cared about (i.e., Are these invoices all in the same order that they were listed in on the DOS print-out I used when compiling them?), just to make sure I didn’t let my desire for speed overtake my desire for quality work.

Even so, the other day, one of my co-workers genially suggested, “You don’t have to work so fast.” I didn’t have a response to that — anything I could think of to say would probably have sounded like bragging.

Besides all the tedious work, though, there is also the issue of my supervisor. I like her just fine … except that I’m not sure she always really knows what she’s doing. The other day she assured me that the invoice notes — written in French, for a Canadian-based company — indicated that samples had been given to the company (therefore, our department would credit their account for the goods they had incorrectly been billed for). I couldn’t figure out how she got that from looking at the invoice, so I asked. “I speak French,” she responded — as though this made the whole thing obvious. I looked at her blankly for a moment. “So do I,” I finally said. “But I still don’t see how you’re getting that.” “It’s written at the top of the page,” she told me. I looked again and then held it up for her, pointing to the word frais written in all-caps at the top of the page. “You mean this?” I asked. “Yep. It says ‘free.’ That means samples.” Now, my French is not the best, I will readily admit. But I happen to know that the word frais means ‘fresh.’ I looked it up today and learned that it can also mean ‘fees.’ But ‘free’ it does not mean. That would be gratis. Unless there’s some weird French-Canadian thing going on here that I’m unaware of — which is entirely possible. But my point here is that my supervisor has a tendency to pretend that she knows what’s going on, even when doesn’t really (which I suspect is most of the time). [NB: Remind me to tell you all someday about the phony math formula she gave us.]

So, between being assured of various “facts” that I happen to know are false, and constantly surprising people with my super-speedy skills, and having recently stayed up all night (literally — went to bed at 6:30 am) to read Eclipse, I found myself this week sitting at work and wondering, “What would Edward do?”

Clearly, others in cyber-space have beat me to the punch here, but I still found myself amused by my own thought.

You know, I’m not so sure I’d want to be a vampire — at least not the way that the Cullens do it. Can you imagine the eternal torture of sitting around at high school year after year after year, listening to lectures on things you already know — because you already have a plethora of undergraduate, graduate, and professional university degrees — ignoring information that is blatantly incorrect, and pretending not to mind any of it? Or constantly moving at a significantly slower speed than you are naturally inclined to, just so that people won’t get suspicious? I actually tried slowing myself down this week — not just the double-checking stuff, but actually working slowly, making myself take more time than necessary to lift my pen and make a check-mark — just to see what it was like. Torturous, that’s the word.

I hope Bella knows what she’s getting herself into.

If I were a creative writer, I would give you a snap-shot of some of things I thought about this week — imagining Edward or Bella working in my job, and their reactions to the things I find so frustrating. But I’ll leave that kind of thing up to the scritcher.

I can’t remember when it was good; moments of happiness elude. (68 points)

 

my how time flies!

So here we all are … in JULY!

And not just July, but nearly the end of July. Crazy!

I have to apologize for not updating much this summer. I have no decent excuse. I’m just a bum.

For a few weeks I was working at a temp job in Wichita. I’ve had the last week and a half off, and I’ve been busy, busy working on applications for part-time teaching positions for the fall. I’ll be sure and let you all know when I get a job and where it is. Meanwhile, I’ve been set apart as a Gospel Doctrine Sunday School teacher in the local YSA branch here. That’s been fun.

More importantly, however — the final Harry Potter book comes out this weekend! The closer it gets, the more excited I find myself. There are several businesses and libraries out here counting down the days — some on their outdoor marquees — and whenever I go past one and realize how little time is left, it gives me a little thrill. (I know … it’s the small things.) I’m taking quite a chance with this one, not having reserved a copy anywhere. I find I don’t appreciate all the hoop-la at places like Barnes & Noble, and when Half-Blood Prince came out in 2005, I learned that virtually no one gets their Harry Potter books at Wal-Mart in the middle of the night, so that’s what I’ve been banking on.

Last night I actually dreamt about getting my copy of Deathly Hallows. Margo and I went to Wal-Mart — only after welcoming her friend to the area, who’s visiting for the weekend — and as we drove home from her aunt’s house, I made her stop at the closest possible Wal-Mart so that I could start reading in the car. When we got into Wal-Mart, I easily picked up my copy (I was careful to get one that hadn’t been too badly damaged in the rush to get it out at exactly 12:01 am), but there was a vague sense of foreboding afterward. I woke up right after that, so I’m not sure what kind of foreboding it was, or what it might have betokened. I hope it’s nothing too harmful.

 

super geekin’ out!

Gosh, I can’t even explain how obsessed I’ve been this past week.

But I’ll try.

I’ve been reading more and more of the Amelia Peabody books that Kimberly has lent us. She did give me due warning that they get pretty intense. This past week I found myself entangled in the midst of a four-book “story arc,” as Kimberly calls them (I don’t know where she gets that term, but it works; I always wonder whether it’s something she picked up during her English degree, which would make sense, since I have not spent much time in the world of English academics). One night, I had been reading later than I should have, and as the clock neared and passed midnight, I decided I’d better stop soon — I would finish this section I was on and then go to bed. But then something immensely important happened. So of course I had to keep reading. And then in the next section something even more important happened. And so on, for the next several sections. I’m not just talking mild importance, either — I’m talking major revelations and conflicts and resolutions that turn into even bigger conflicts. So then it was close to 3 AM before I finally made myself put the book away and lie down to sleep.

But that’s only the beginning. The truly alarming thing is that it was another two hours or so before I was actually able to sleep. I was so thoroughly concerned about what was going on, and so completely at a loss as to how it would all resolve itself in the end, that I couldn’t manage to get my mind to stop whirling. Even when I managed to force it away from thinking about Amelia and her family, it then immediately turned to some similar problems, of an equally vexing and equally fictitious nature. The last time I looked at the clock, it was past 4 AM, and it took me quite a while after that to finally sleep. I had to force myself to stay in bed — to not camp out on the couch that night and read myself to sleep. Finally, I drowsed off, but even then I dreamt about Amelia. The odd thing about it was that I didn’t dream about it in movie style, where you see the things going on; rather, I dreamt about myself reading about the situation and its resolution.

The last time I remember being so distraught about a book was during my senior year of high school. (There have been plenty of other obsessions since then, notably a semester at Ricks College when I devoured the Anne of Green Gables books, but none of them had quite the same emotional impact on me.) At the time, I was reading George Eliot’s Middlemarch, and my mom and I had gone to Utah for some reason or other (quite possibly My Brother The Chiropractor’s graduation from BYU) and were staying with my aunt. I was sleeping on the couch, and as I was determined to finish that book if it killed me, I read for several hours before going to sleep. As I went, I kept getting more and more involved in one particular plot (the main one, concerning Dorothea Brooke Casaubon, her crusty and pedantic husband, and his nephew, Will Ladislaw). [Mild spoiler ahead, inviso-texted between the asterisks.] *** I started to think to myself, “If only that nasty Mr. Casaubon would die!! That would take care of everything!” And then, at the end of that very chapter, he did die!!! I felt like I had personally killed him. It was terrifying. And no, it didn’t solve everything (as one might have expected), so of course I had to continue on for another chapter or two. *** The chapters I read that night are among my favorites in the book, largely because my emotions were so highly involved in the development of the plot.

I’ve also become more and more interested in the ancient culture of the Middle East. I’ve long been interested in the languages (and thereby also the cultures) of the ancient civilizations of that region, and with the Amelia books being set in Egypt book after book after book, it’s hard to curb my desire to learn Middle Egyptian, anything written in cuneiform (Sumerian, Akkadian, Babylonian, Assyrian …), and even Arabic (though it is, of course, a much more modern language than the others).

In the midst of all this, I’m becoming increasinly annoyed with my program here. I feel very much as though I am ready to just strike out on my own and do my own research. I’m having a hard time deciding what I ought to do next in all of this — transfer somewhere else (like the U of Chicago) where I’d be doing less English and more Linguistics, get going on a dissertation by distance from Lancaster, or just stick it out here. Some of the projects I’m interested in will take much more time than I can give them in a semester, or even in a few semesters with coursework going on, and I’m not very interested in most of the classes I have to take. (Except, of course, for Old English and Historical Linguistics this fall!) If anyone has some helpful advice, or even not-so-helpful advice, I’d love to hear what you think.

In the meantime, here’s one of my favorite quotes from this week — On Sunday, the Bishop mentioned that he’d like to talk with me for a few minutes, but said he didn’t have time that day. Then he asked, “Will you be in town this week?” “Yep, all week,” I told him. To which he promptly replied, “I’m not.” Hmmm. That might present a slight problem, then.

Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. (20 points)

 

geekin’ out

I’ve been re-reading The Scarlet Letter during the past week. I read most of it in high school for my junior English class, and I remembered really liking it, but I had forgotten most of it. So I thought I’d give it another shot and see what I think ten years later. So far I’m really loving it. There were plenty of things that just didn’t hold the same meaning for me earlier. I’m anxious to read some commentary about it (my favorite site for that is SparkNotes) and see what insights they may have that I’ve missed. But I can’t read anything yet, since I don’t want to spoil the ending for myself.

WARNING: Spoiler ahead. I have “inviso-texted” the following paragraph, since it deals with an important plot spoiler. If you would like to read this paragraph, please use your cursor to highlight the text between the asterisks; otherwise, just move on, my friend.

***

I’m especially interested in the way that Hawthorne treats the character of Arthur Dimmesdale. I remembered from last time that he was Hester’s partner in sin, so I didn’t experience the shock of figuring that out as I read this time. But Hawthorne drops that information in with such subtle pervasiveness, I had to wonder when I would have realized it if I hadn’t already known. There are several subtle clues along the way, and they grow stronger and stronger, until — without ever saying anything quite explicit — the conclusion becomes inescapable.

***

I’m also struck by the simplicity of the story. The plot involves so little — so few characters, so few twists and turns — but at the same time it is a deeply complex novel, dealing with deeply complex themes of the human experience.

Oh, and there’s also the question of onomastics and reference, which I’ve been really interested in lately. There is so much characterization that an author can sneak in with this seemingly harmless technique, just by the choice of what to call his characters and what to have his characters call each other. I’d like to do a short paper about this sometime soon, probably using some short stories of James Thurber’s. But I’ve found it very interesting in SL as well — for example, Chillingworth is almost exclusively referred to as “old Roger Chillingworth”. And the narrator so rarely refers to anyone by just their first name, except for Pearl.

We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. (20 points)

 

the post with no title

So I’m sitting around watching the final episode of “Will & Grace,” just for kicks and giggles. And I thought I’d post something, just to let everyone know what I’ve been up to. I found a job for the summer, working as a receptionist at the Department of Management (in the College of Business Administration) on campus at UNT. It’ll be from 8:00 to 12:30 every morning (Monday through Friday, that is), so it’s about 22 hours a week, and it’s early. Oh well. Sometimes you just have to deal with an 8 am day.

In other news … well, there’s really not much else, actually.

I have been cooking the last few days. Tried a few new recipes, mostly from Alton Brown, which have been fabulous. [roasted veggie spread] [pocket pies]

I’ve watched a ton of television during the past week. Becoming a Regis and Kelly junky. *sigh*

I am ready to start scrap-booking again, but I first have to get some more cardstock pages and print some of my digital photos. Hoping to start on that next week.

Next week I’ll be flying home for Memorial Day, where I plan to spend a few days with my sister and then a few days at my parents’ house.

Erin and I wanted to watch Just My Luck today, but Kimberly couldn’t come, so we decided to put it off until we can all see it together.

New niece got born last week, May 9th. Her name is Chloe Elizabeth. Adorable, of course!

Been reading lots of books on Kimberly’s recommendation. She got me interested in Amelia Peabody mysteries, and now I’m anxiously awaiting the box from her mom in which she sent the rest of the series from their house (apparently there are 16 in all).

In the mean-time, I’m re-reading the 6th Harry Potter book, since I’ve only read it once since it came out last summer.

Hoping to be able to go to the Utah Shakespearean Festival this year with Jen and Emily, in late July. They’re doing some great plays, including Hamlet and — wonder of wonders! — HMS Pinafore!!

Longing for a cat. I really want a korat. *deep sigh* Can’t hardly wait until I have an apartment and a job to allow for that.

I’m always quite amazed at how much I can say even when there’s nothing to say.

The last quote was from Mary Poppins, although it’s quite obscure, so I’m not surprised no one has known it (or least, apparently no one has).

We Britons had at that time particularly settled that it was treasonable to doubt our having and our being the best of everything: otherwise, while I was scared by the immensity of London, I think I might have had some faint doubts whether it was not rather ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty. (96 points)

 

procrastinating

I should be writing a response to Lady Susan right now, but I’m having a hard time finding anything interesting to write about it … I haven’t had so much trouble with a response paper yet this semester. I just don’t seem to be able to think too well. So I thought I’d post to my blog quickly.

Last night we had the missionaries over for dinner. It was good. We had pork chops and creamed potatoes with green beans (which Erin made … yummy!). We have a brand new elder here now — he just arrived last week sometime. He seems pretty nice.

Oh, and the weather has turned really warm. The last few weeks it was rainy and cold every day, but it’s now warmed up again. And I mean warm. It’s currenty 78°, and it’s supposed to get up 87° before the end of the day. It’s only March, mind you. Oy! The one thing I most dislike about Texas is the heat. This also means I’m going to have to give up wearing my cute new pajamas with the sheep on them.

Well, I guess I’ll get going now … I only have another 30 minutes to finish my paper, if I’m going to have time to actually get ready for the day before leaving for class.

The last quote was from The Great Muppet Caper and the one before was Muppet Treasure Island. Sorry, Elizabeth — close, but no cigar.

It will test your head, and your mind, and your brain. (41 points)

 

Chronicles Book Club

I have added a new link to my sidebar, and I thought I’d explain about it. It’s to an online book club (called Chronicles) that my friends Paul and Christina recently started (recently being about a week or two ago). They had thought that they wanted to start a book club, but they had lots of friends they wanted to invite to be in it, and those friends were scattered near and far across the globe. So they decided to do it online. For our first book we’ve been reading Animal Farm by George Orwell and discussing it. It’s been loads of fun! Feel free to check it out, and if you’re interested in joining, send an email to either Paul (which you can find at the book club site) or me.

 

giving in to the lure of the meme …

Because I liked the idea. I didn’t include two of my very favorite books, just because they’re so ridiculously easy.

Note: Answers have been added for those that have been guessed correctly. I’m still waiting to hear from anyone on #5 and #10.

1. List the first line(s) of 10 books you really like.
2. And then you all can guess.

1. There was no possiblity of taking a walk that day. Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte; correctly guessed by Donovan, Elizabeth, and Erin

2. 3 MAY, Bistritz – Left Munich at 8:35 p.m. on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late. Dracula, by Bram Stoker; correctly guessed by Donovan and Erin

3. Every one has heard people quarrelling. Sometimes it sounds funny and sometimes it sounds merely unpleasant; but however it sounds, I believe we can learn something very important from listening to the kind of things they say. Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis; correctly guessed by Elizabeth

4. The intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as “The Styles Case” has now somewhat subsided. The Mysterious Affair at Styles, by Agatha Christie; correctly guessed by Elizabeth

5. The short answer to the question ‘Who is stylistics?’ is that she is a friend of mine, and that I hope by the end of this book she might also become a friend of yours.

6. Who that cares much to know the history of man, and how the mysterious mixture behaves under the varying experiments of Time, has not dwelt, at least briefly, on the life of Saint Theresa, has not smiled with some gentleness at the thought of the little girl walking forth one morning hand-in-hand with her still smaller brother, to go and seek martyrdom in the country of the Moors? Middlemarch, by George Eliot; correctly guessed by Donovan and Elizabeth

7. My father’s family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip. Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens; correctly guessed by Donovan and Elizabeth

8. On August 16, 1968, I was handed a book written by a certain Abbé Vallet, Le Manuscrit de Dom Adson de Melk, traduit en français d’après l’édition de Dom J. Mabillon (Aux Presses de l’Abbaye de la Source, Paris, 1842). The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco; correctly guessed by Donovan and Elizabeth

9. The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could ; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. (actually a short story, but unquestionably my favorite by this author) “The Cask of Amantillado,” by Edgar Allan Poe; correctly guessed by Donovan and Elizabeth

10. We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville, Tennessee, in the time that I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child.

 

Eco, Short, and Watson

Eco

I finished The Name of the Rose last night — great read. It’s an excellent murder mystery, but with so much more going on. I’ve never known more in my life about monastic orders, medeival philosophy, and the politics of the Holy Roman Empire.

The historical aspect of things gets the book a little bogged down at times — the stuff about monastic orders, politics, and various heretical groups — but the plot keeps you moving along the whole time, which is important. The best part, though, is the philosophy scattered throughout the book. Most of it is discussed in a very accessible way, and it can really get you thinking.

Eco is a semiotician (he studies signs) who started out as a philosopher, particularly interested in the Middle Ages. During the last part of the 20th century, he’s had some influence in linguistics, specifically the philosophy of language. That means that he resonates with me, and I always appreciate that in an author. Anyway, he brings up several interesting notions such as abductive logic, the application of logic, and the pervasiveness of semiotics. It’s gotten me interested in Peirce again, as well as in Roger Bacon and Aritsotle. He made me realize (once again) just how little I really know about the world. So today I checked out some books, by Eco, Peirce, and Aristotle. I’m hoping that I manage to get through them decently before my interest is claimed elsewhere.

Short

I handed in my assignments today, but with a little bit of trouble. I printed them out in the computer lab, then took them down the hall to photocopy them (we have to turn in two copies of each essay). While they were being photocopied, I realized that the diagram I had inserted in one of the essays hadn’t printed out. Apparently it had gotten lost in cyberspace, sometime between finishing my essay and then transferring it to my USB key and taking to the lab to print. So, I went back to the lab and re-drew the diagram, figuring I could just insert an extra page into the essay. But then, I didn’t know the page numbers for the source that it was taken from. So I cited some random page numbers, saved the diagram, and went over to the library to find the book it came from. That part wasn’t hard, and I soon had the right page numbers. But then I went to get some of my books (Eco, Peirce, and Aristotle), and in the meantime forgot to change the page numbers. I didn’t realize until just about 20 minutes ago that I handed in the essay with the wrong page numbers cited for my diagram. I hope it’ll be OK — I’ll go have a quick talk with Jonathan and explain what happened, and I’m sure he’ll be fine about it. It’s not as if he’s unfamiliar with the diagram or anything, so I doubt he would try to look up the reference anyway. (Oh, the diagram was taken from a book by Mick Short, hence the reference to him in the section title.)

Watson

After handing in my essays (even if they had false citations!) I went in to town to run a few errands. While there, I stopped to get some lunch at KFC. As I sat looking out the window and munching my yummy chicken sandwich, I noticed a man across the street who looked just like a modern-day Dr. Watson. I could just imagine him hanging out with Sherlock Holmes and trying to solve mysteries. He even had the mustache right, and he was wearing an earthy-toned overcoat and tweed cap. The only thing that could have made it any better would have been a smoking pipe in his mouth. Or a friend who looked like Sherlock Holmes

Why, you could melt that girl like butter, if you’d only turn on the heat! (380 points, if you know this one, you’re my friend for life!)