Broke? Got worn out shoes? It's ok, you can still play in the snow!
1.) Put on warm socks
2.) Put foot in plastic grocery bag
3.) Wrap the handles snugly around the ankle, tie a knot
4.) Pull on your shoes
5.) Slip legwarmers over all of it, to hide both the holes in your shoes, and the baggies.
TA DA! now go play in the snow.
badass pets
"For most Americans, when the president comes to town they dress up in their best red, white and blue, wave a miniature stars and stripes and hope the most powerful leader in the western world will give 'em a smile.
But in 1903, one little girl--perhaps the most awesome little girl ever born--decided to throw a badger.
That's not a metaphor. She threw an actual badger at President Theodore Roosevelt."
Ok, heavyweight reigning champion, threw a live badger at the president, who KEPT IT AS A PET. Those things are omnivorous. That means THEY EAT PEOPLE. haaahahaha.
Also a contender, this little princess:
Notice the bored look. I guess she's a daughter of one of the "Hyena Men" of Africa, traveling entertainers recently photographed by Pieter Hugo. here's a website with the collection:
michael stevenson
Yeah, the next time you start feeling a little too badass, remind yourself of this guy:
Alright, so I have already been rejected from a class on questionable grounds, so I decided to pursue another class at the last moment. the Last day to add/drop a class is the 23rd, lest I get into "late enrollment" and sitting in the dean's office and probable dismissal of my loan money. Ok, actually, it probably won't go through anyway, but I can't think about that yet.
To sum up- there are two classes which look like they will further my pursuit of an English degree, so as soon as the advising office was open, I went by for advice about which class in which to enroll, and the lady at the desk offered a morning appointment on Thursday. Thinking to myself, "Ok, day after tomorrow, that's the 22nd, still good to enroll," I took an appointment card and headed off to work.
~a note, I was in the break room watching one of the most powerful speeches that is going to be made this year, contemplating all the achievement and eloquence and mastery inherent in both ascending to the ranks of those on screen, and writing the speeches. Can you imagine having that command of language? Wait, wait, this is Obama's chief speechwriter:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/20/fashion/20speechwriter.html
he's 26.
Anyway, I was watching the inauguration and trying not to crinkle my low calorie popcorn baggie when I had to go off to my meaningless job where I can't use any of my skills and I am operating at a financial loss and at least one more person frowns on my (paltry) education.
It was a bit disheartening, but I did my job and rushed back to campus to do my homework. Romantic poetry, which is growing on me:
Robert Burn's "To a Mouse"
and also "Sir Patrick Spense," a ballad in a Scottish dialect:
Notice the guttural noise in "knight" and "right," it's the same sound as in "loch," (as in Loch Ness) and in the International Phonetic Alphabet is represented by an /x/. The phoneme existed before the English and American (among others) pronunciation, and is called a velar fricative, in that it is formed via vibration of the velum:
In some cases, we approximated the noise as a "K," as in "lake" for "loch." Or othertimes, we left it out entirely, as in "knight."
*random lesson over*
Later in the day, after having gone to the advisor's office and then to work, and then back to class, I looked at the card the woman in the advisor's office had handed me, and the appointment is NEXT thursday. That's a week too late to enroll in classes. That's NO FUCKING HELP I HATE MY SCHOOL.
I found an interesting photographer today, check out his site:
blurbism
Out of all the collections listed, I much prefer the first collection, Dreamland. The majority of the other pictures are macro studies of industrial textures, some of which I enjoyed, and some I didn't. The first collection reminds me of my trip out west last winter, it all looks cold and arid. In the right framework, even the most mundane can be sublime. Please don't tell me that's cliché, doesn't the rolling chair in the desert look like a penitent on his knees? Or maybe he's just on a pilgrimage.
I found that site on this site: jmcolberg
Out of one of one of my favorite photographic series I've seen, Aaron Hobson's "A Decisive Moment" genuinely scares me.
gathered from: http://www.aaronhobson.com/evendarker.html. This photograph is from the "Even Darker" season, but I really enjoyed all three that are available on the site.
Here's his blog:i shot myself they did too
I found his photograph on another blog, who killed bambi
an interesting story:
"Madonna and Child" by Jean Fochit.
from dear aunt nettie
"Fochit had been commissioned to execute a Madonna and Child for the tomb of Etienne Chevalier, treasurer to King Charles VII of France. As luck would have it he completed the painting one week after Paris had passed its landmark "zero-tolerance" legislation regarding child pornography. The artist was consequently arrested and used as an example by the courts, sentenced to 30 years in the notorious Bastille. He hanged himself shortly after his incarceration there.
His model, Agnes Sorel, was given a 14-year sentence for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, procuring the use of a child for use in a pornographic setting, and operating a milk bar without a town license. Her child, Jean-Louis, was assigned to a foundling home where he perished of neglect."
Fucking sad story.
and I'm sorry. I can't get the links to work. They disappear in the formatting, somehow. I promise the url's are all worth just a touch more extra effort. Click on the pictures, though!
At my work, being late by 2 minutes (literally, 120 seconds) counts as one "occurrence," which is the same as being absent for a day, but being absent two days in a row counts the same as only being absent one day. The only difference is the missing pay.
This morning I was washing my face and cleaning up and realized I was about 5 minutes late to leave the house, so I jumped into my clothes, hopped in the car, and got halfway there and realized that I'm still going to be about 5 minutes late, though I was rushing as fast as traffic would allow me.
As I posted about yesterday, I had to call in to get the emergency school stuff figured out, so I called in from my car to avoid another "occurrence," which could lead to my termination. Now, how does that makes any sense? Is this policy really achieving what they want it to achieve? I think not.
On the upside, I picked up a cored pineapple on the way home
I used to read tarot. I have two decks, a Rider-Waite Universal deck, and a fun Halloween-themed one. As part of my practice, I read my own cards, and studied myself to determine what card best represented me, but was horrified when I pulled the Hierophant card.
The hierophant is a priest of arcane rituals, with the implication (to me) that the rituals are carried out without being broadly understood by the other participants. Like Kurdish female circumcision, nobody knows why they do it, they just do, and it sucks. In tarot, aptly, it can signal bureaucracy and byzantine procedures to muddle through, or a person who imposes these measures.
I hate red tape. I am utterly baffled by protocol. I swear to god, I would just march into somebody's office and hit them over the head if I ever wanted some grant money. This is probably why I have had such trouble with my university.
After a grueling undergraduate sentence, I eked out a degree and burst bright and shiny into the world all prepared to drive a forklift part time for an ailing company. BUT- this job will pay for my tuition as a perk, and as a career student, that’s not a bad deal. Fast forward to this semester, my second semester using my work’s tuition reimbursement.
I get online and go about enrolling in my classes, and see a 600 level psychology course that fits into my schedule. I tried to add it to my schedule, but the system tripped up, “Administrator Permission Required.” But that didn't deter me, I will just get the instructor’s permission and give somebody a piece of paper and all will be well all the way to grandmother’s house. My application for tuition reimbursement from my job even went right through. Happy day, drinks all around.
But no. I should have known it was all going to suck when I misunderstood the start time and had to race down to campus. I arrived on time, started putting money in the meter, but it didn’t register any time. Now being all out of both money and time, I had to leave the car where it was until I got out of class. Of course, when I got out I had a ticket. Tickets seem to be a disproportionately large money-maker for the university. I appealed the ticket online but so far nobody has returned my email.
Anyway, while I was in class, I talked to the professor and she was lovely, and we agreed that I would leave the “Add a Class” slip in the department’s office for her to sign. Great, until the department’s office lady person starts giving me grief and shouting “WHAT?” to my first three sentences. Now, I am soft spoken, I know that, but there is just no need to be rude. The office worker claimed never to have seen the “Add a Class” form in her life, and wouldn’t put a stamp on it until the professor had signed it. Whatever.
The next day the professor dutifully signed the sheet, as well as another sheet I had never seen before, some other enrollment thing the rude office worker must have slipped in. But anyway, both were signed by the instructor, so I took them down to the dean’s office in the college of education where the person on duty refused to allow me entry into the class. We are (at this point, due to the late start of my once-weekly class) a week and a half into the term, I have the instructor’s permission, I have the tuition already paid for (tuition for this class in particular) and an undergraduate degree in a pertinent field to the class, but she says no. Or rather, even more infuriatingly, she refused to come out of the office to tell me this, I had to speak to her secretary and have her shuttle messages back and forth. Is it ironic that the assistant dean's last name was Pentecost? There seems to be some meaning there that I haven't been unable to untangle yet.
In the dean's waiting room, facing a young typist, I hold back tears, ask about an appeal process, and consider my options.
1.) If I can’t get into this class, I might not be able to switch to another one and have it paid for. I can’t pay out of pocket.
2.) It isn’t worth it to me to stay at UPS for another semester to take another 300 level English class (the other class I’m enrolled in)
3.) If I am not working at UPS or taking classes, I don’t want to live in this city anymore
So that’s where I found myself, and my shift started in 30 minutes, and it’s a 20 minute drive and a 10 minute walk and a shuttle ride away, so I called in and took an “occurrence” to my attendance, risking termination to try to sort things out on campus. I also started frantically calling everyone who has ever gone to the university. I stood in the Graduate office hounding the staff. I emailed program directors. I rued the woman in the Bursar's office who told me not to pay the extra whatever it was to take classes as a "post baccalaureate" rather than "undergraduate, non-degree seeking."
One kind person finally emailed me back, and explained the situation. In the last year, that particular college within the university has enacted restricted enrollment. So, though a year ago I would have been able to enroll in this particular class, now I cannot. It’s a very special, magical class and I’m not allowed. Somehow the prompts when I was trying to enroll online do not reflect this.
It’s the Heirophant! AGAIN. My life is an exercise in navigating bureaucracy. Too bad I can’t hit this guy over the head. I have to work between the lines and be an exception. I have to play the game the way he wants it to get what I want, though he doesn't want me to have it.
In other terms- I'm fucking him. Or I am going to try. I’ve found classes that might get me closer to a second undergraduate degree and also fit into my schedule and I emailed the professors and begged for late entry. We will see how it goes. If nothing else works, I’ll have to dedicate the time to finding a program and retaking the GRE and practicing for the LSAT. Hell, maybe I’ll even do well.
Flooded and given up. Like old Morganton Tennessee.
I have actually had a sort of hard week. Not my hardest, but it held its own little rough spots. Getting funding together for my classes, finding a graduate program. Basically making the "adult" decisions that twenty two year olds seem to make with an enviable daring. AND I’m fighting a totally unfair parking ticket.
List of places with fewer than ten residents.
Ghost town stubs.
List of ghost towns in the United States.
Ghost towns in Kentucky:
Creelsboro, Kentucky.
Fudge, Kentucky
Scuffletown, Kentucky
So, this is list was compiled while watching my friends nap, and wanting to get away very badly. We’ll make it, and if we don’t, Wikipedia has a list of uninhabited islands—for my convenience.
My review
rating: 4 of 5 stars
a quick read, engaging and respectful to its subject matter. a collection of short stories filling out a loosely related narrative, taking place in and around the appalachian mountains.
View all my reviews.
