Whisker's creative corner

I'm going to see Lady Gaga on January 8th!!

The chance of a lifetime, I'm sure...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACm9yECwSso

Yup, I changed my mind.  I'm just to darn busy.  Here's a list of things I need to do other than National Novel Writing Month:

A Very Large Paper for my senior project
Correlating the data for my honors project
A Very Large Paper for my honors project
Getting my ass in gear and focusing on magazine production
Completing the classroom visits which will produce the submissions for the magazine
Filling out the form for the band which will come for Publications day (for the magazine)
Writing my newspaper articles on time
Researching Grad School applications
Folding and hanging up the laundry which is currently in a large (clean) pile on the bedroom floor
Putting together my portfolio so I can pass to my senior year
Finishing the work on the archiving project so I can get paid for it
Signing up for next semester's classes
Getting special permission to sign up for as many credits as I will be taking next year
Doing the work for the classes I'm currently taking ahead of time so I don't get that panicked adrenaline feeling
Tuning in to the lives of my friends, one of whom really needs a friend right now
Putting the coats back in the coat closet, the dishes in the dishwasher, and the books and papers back where books and papers should be
Spending some time with my poor beleaguered husband
Buying Christmas presents (this alone is a sign of how behind I am.  Usually I have them bought and wrapped before September...)
Playing with my snake

And most of this is on a weekly basis.

I'm doooooomed.

I might actually do it.  I might actually try my hand at fiction during National Novel Writing Month. 

I hear a collective sad shaking of heads.  She must be crazy, (all you, my faithful readers, are saying), to take on this when she's even slightly behind on all her other projects!  When she has to schedule time for a proper bath, (instead of a shower), and when she has an unidentified mold source in her apartment that is driving her allergies crazy!  We'll have to lock her away!

Well, yes, I'm kind of crazy.  I'm also a good and fast writer.  And I'm feeling a little 'now or never' ish about this, as I'm not so good with making things up.  I used to lie a lot, and that's sort of like small fictions, but it was always realllllly close to the truth, and then I never did it more than absolutely necessary.  And I stopped about 7 years ago.

Also, I figure the reward of working on the novel, (okay, fighting with myself about creativity vs. imagination), will push me to get caught up in the rest of my work.  Either that or my ever-so patient and helpful husband, (who's helping me with characterization and plot), will cart me off to the loony bin, giggling maniacally.

So, I've not read the rules yet, but I figure I can ask for help as long as I do the actual writing, right? 

If so, do you think that people would like to read a mystery about a brand new professor of archeology who gets embroiled in department politics and solves crime on a small commuter campus?  She's smart!  She's feisty!  She's...a huge klutz!  That sound of breaking china you hear?  That's her coffee cup falling to the floor and shattering as she's listening in on a clue giving conversation!  To be continued...

...they're going to yank my credentials!  Kidding.

But seriously, I miss all of you!  I've been incredibly busy with school; chem, magazine, history, philosophy, honors class, most of which need a three page paper a week. 

Anyhow, more detailed post at a slightly later date.

Hugs!

This archiving project has thrown up some really great finds, such as a full set of log books from a local business during WWI.  If someone down the road takes a look, figures out which business it was and does an analysis of wartime economics, it would be fascinating.  Also, a hand inked music textbook from the late 1800s.  Just amazingly beautiful, 176 pages of hand written lessons on music theory and practice.

And then there are the clippings.  This woman was an amateur historian.  A local amateur historian.  And she liked to compile scrapbooks to show local people their history.  So she clipped the local newspaper, (apparently), every day for the last, oh, 80 years or so.  Had she also assembled all the clippings into scrapbooks, that would have been peachy keen.  However, she didn't have time to do all that, so what she did was copy the clippings, to make sure that if they deteriorated, she'd still be able to show them to people.

And then she kept both the copies, and the clippings.

And this is where I come in.

This is good practice for what I hope to be my eventual career: archaeological field work.  For never in my life have I seen a more filthy and abysmally tedious job.  I've decided to toss anything after 1950 because of...microfiche.  Yes, these clippings are handily archived already in several local libraries, on microfiche.  Anyone who wants to study what their grandmother's life was like can go sit in a clean library and slowly scroll through the archived copy.  No one in their right mind is going to do any sort of study sitting in a dark, damp, and grimy attic-type room with three foot high piles of clippings which are rapidly disintegrating into paper shards which tenaciously fling themselves into every gap in one's clothing.

I have already gone through one pile of clippings and found a grand total of five that I think this historical society should keep. 

And I still have eight more stacks to go...

I haven't posted in quite some time, so here's some snippets from my life.

The text message from friend was a mistake.  I e-mailed him and asked, and things have gone back to silent stalemate.  Grr...

I've taken a rest of summer internship doing archiving work for a city nearby.  It's quite rewarding except for a few things: 1. everything is covered in dust, (achoo).  2. they were amateur historians so not everything is in order and what is in order the *ahem* dear old lady put address labels into the front.  Double Grrrrr...  Those labels are NOT coming off.  3. I'm supposed to get part of my tuition paid for this but no one's stepped up yet and the date when my financial aid will hit and take care of everything regardless is coming closer and closer...

I have a cold.  Which may explain why I was so cranky when my husband...

...left the keys in the ignition and the doors unlocked with me sitting in the car to go deliver some parts.

I know, I know.  I'm a big girl, should be able to stave off car-jacker/potential rapist if one should wander along, but...

...why make it easy for the bad guys?  Why?  When it's such a small matter to pocket the damned keys, why do this instead?

Thankfully did not react in manner which felt like, as that would have been taking the keys out of the ignition for him, hiding them somewhere in the car, and then locking the door.  Bad, and counterproductive.

Anyway, I'm still here, I didn't croak.  Though with this cold making me miserable, I would love to be able to just sleep a year or so.  Hugs to all my reader(s).

Wow.  Friend sent me a nonsense text message last night.  Three months with no communication at all, not even when I was face to face with him in a computer lab on campus and then *ding* text message!

I have not responded.  I feel no desire to feed the beast.  The number of times I picked up my phone with the urge to write something, anything, back was frankly a bit pathetic, but I did not.  One urge at a time.

And in better news: I'm going to speak to a man tomorrow about an internship, doing something I love for school credit and profit.  Woot!

Also, this year's Magazine is really going to be something special.

Also, my husband is crazy, but wonderful.

Also, I found out I need two more semesters each of three more foreign languages to be competitive in applying for the mastership I want, so really, I won't have time for him, his bullshit, or missing him.

One day at a time.

Someone smack me, I'm becoming pathetic.

It has been three months since Friend last communicated with me.  And I miss him.  Very much. 

So much so that if he called, I'd pick up the phone.  Even though I told him that this time was the last ride on the merry-go-round.  Even though we drive each other nuts.  I don't know if it's because I'm starting on this semester's magazine preparation and really wish he was doing it with me again this year, but whatever it is, I miss him. 

I've seen him on campus twice already.  It was really hard.  I'm just sad.

So, someone please smack me.

My husband is doing the brakes.  With his father.  I love my husband.  I mostly like his father.  What I do so intensely DISLIKE is that when they get together to do car work, what was going to be "simple, it won't take more than an hour" becomes something that takes multiple trips to the car parts store, and takes several hours, even when not interrupted by a rain storm as it was today.

It's 66 degrees F. out right now, and wet.  Which is cold.  I understand.  However, when I fixed cars, you just do it.  Especially if you are anticipated somewhere else afterward.  You just DO it.  Then you dry off, have coffee and move on. 

Yes it totally sucks.  I UNDERSTAND.  And I would help, but for several reasons: 1. With these two, I'm relegated to "the girl who holds the wrench" and I know far too much about car repair to do that.  It tends to piss me off to the point of icy avoidance. 2. I was WORKING.  It's not as vital as car work, it's school work, but I've been busy.  3. It wasn't supposed to take this long. and 4. I'm in a silk skirt and a white shirt.  I'm not dressed for car work.

I hate, HATE, having to speak very frankly to my husband in front of his parents.  I don't want to be the bitch that makes him go back out in the rain.  But I want to LEAVE.  I'm just very aggravated at the moment.

Sunday June 7, 2009
I miss it already.  Not of course, crazed showers and sticky hair, or lugging 65lbs of luggage around after me everywhere, not all that.  But the new friends, the stunning breathtaking architecture, Paris, where everything is open until 11 at least, the tiny boutiques stuffed with treasures.  These I will miss. Most especially the people.

On the train back to Oxford yesterday, someone's text alarm sounded and it was the same one Husband has: Yoda saying "mmm...message from the dark side there is..." and it made me smile and think of him
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Credit still not working, will take the check card also next time.  However, got lovely free sample of Patron Coffee Tequila at the duty free shop at Heathrow.

2:32 London time on the plane: about to take off.  Most wondrous thing, they have been playing Delibes Lakme, the rose duet.  Also, finally got seat mates, I thought I might go the whole way without.  V. made it onto the plane...she had went off and left the group and I thought she might miss it. I'm off way behind the group, which is perfectly fine as I have an aisle seat.  No more snoring seatmate keeping me from having a pee this time.

Oh, I LOVE to fly!  Fighting gravity and winning just feels incredible.  Of course, in the wake of the missing Air France flight last week, I can imagine there are quite a few nervous traveler today.  Not me though.  Nothing one can do except keep a positive attitude.  Enjoyed that little drink, though.  Wish it'd been larger.

There.  Finally got my viewscreen to go off.

The dinner trays seem to be making their way sporadically back this way.  I do hope it's something nice...last time it all tasted a bit like cardboard. 
No, this was pretty good.  Chicken and pasta, salad with, I think, beet pieces, and chocolate mousse cake with (nominally) mandarin sauce.

Blasted headphone wire seems to have reacquired the faulty left ear piece and I truly don't want to use the ones provided with their huge scary foam ear covers.  Never know where they've been.

Will be v. nice to see Husband.  Thought about beginning letters while still on the plane, but I want the handwriting better than in this journal.

V. enlightening trip, truly amazing, in so many ways.  Def. impressed myself and profs with resourcefulness.  And the things seen, eaten, experienced; gothic architecture one could look at until one's eyes bleed, cheese and wine paired just right, fruit just a shade the right side of overripe, chicken so tender it fell of the bones, chocolate cloyingly rich and sweet and people with whom it would be a wonder and a joy to laugh with for many more hours.  The time to do most of what I wanted, the money to make it happen; the research I did really paid off as I was able to budget time and money.  I went through all but 2 of my ink cartridges!

Just over 5 hours to go.  May watch Dr. Strangelove when my playlist is over.

Just got a little hyperventily over the thought of being so close to Friend again.  I do very much miss him, but I know the constant tension was a bad thing.

Have just put my watch on Chicago time.  Must clean my faithful pen when I get home.

Only 2 hours left to Chicago!  Then unfortunately, baggage claim, the el, and the train home.  Then my delightful husband waiting to take me home where I will resist the urge to sleep for a week.

10:25 London time/4:25 Chicago time--Another handsome stanger leaning on me!  Wonder what it IS about this trip?!  In the line for the bathroom a rather Germanic looking gentleman a row to the side of me leaned against me several times.  Perhaps my pheremones are particularly strong this month?  Would rather like to learn his name, but feel awkward asking or introducing myself as have spent most of the flight wearing earphones and trying to ignore everyone.

Well I was wrong, he wasn't German, he's a Finn and his name is Olli.  We spent the last 30 minutes of the flight writing notes back and forth.  I do rather hope I brightened his day a bit.  What I really wanted to ask (but we ran out of time and paper) was, do you go leaning against strange women often?  The amount of contact on this trip has been truly odd.  I mean, most people go out of their way to not touch people they don't know.  I gave him one final note saying that flights of fancy, like our realy flight must land, and that I do see beauty.  And that I will try to get to Finlandand hope he enjoys his stay in my country.  What a doll!

Looking back over this trip, L can have her kisses and Al. her drinks.  I want what I have--threat, opportunity, and something worth coming home to.

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