Because I am a total procrastinator, I've been doing a lot of reading lately. A lot of reading that should have been reserved for after I'd finished the papers I'm supposed to be working on.
But, oh well!
Anyways, this won't be a true review. Rather, it's a recommendation. I'd like to recommend Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. It's a good read, an interesting read, and a quick read. Read it!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Book Review!
A couple of weeks ago, I read a few articles by Lauren Winner, an author I'd never heard of before. She is funny and witty and sharp and smart. So, of course, I had to read more. I ordered a couple of her books off Amazon, and I just finished her memoir, Girl Meets God. I have to say that it's one of the best books I've read in awhile.
I should come out and say that the book is the story of her conversion to Christianity from Orthodox Judaism. I'm usually not too big on conversion stories, really. I grew up Baptist, and I've heard enough "testimonies" to last a lifetime. I hate that genre of storytelling, and I often wonder if hearing those stories does more harm than good. If you will allow me a brief respite from the review, I'd like to speak to the genre of testimony.
For those not familiar with the testimony, it usually goes something like this. The person giving the testimony will tell of his life in darkness (that'd be sin), and then he will say that at the darkest moment there came some sort of Saul on the Road to Damascus moment when he "saw the light." After "seeing the light" he turned to a life in Christ and walked the straight and narrow. Awesome. If you're at some mega-church, I'm guessing there could be a swelling of music at important parts. And, to be fair, I meant nothing by the gendered pronoun use; we women are equally capable of sin or even more capable if you ask some men.
I hate the testimony for a lot of reasons, none of them kind. I'll give you two reasons though. First, I always feel like there's a sort of weird voyeuristic element at work. A bunch of "good people" sit around listening to a formerly "bad person" recounting all sorts of sin. The "good people" get a fix of what it's like in the evil world outside of the safety of the church.
But, I guess what bothers me about the voyeuristic aspect of the testimony is that it's sort of like watching Springer. If you're at all familiar with the tour de force that is Springer, you know that it's basically the same thing over and over. The same topics come up again and again, but, in just watching Springer, we don't stop to ask why those things keep happening. We accept that really unattractive men without jobs always have large women fighting over them. That's just how it is. We don't stop to ask why or step in to try and change things. We get immune to those stories, to the fact that they shouldn't happen all the time.
Same with testimonies. We forget to ask why someone ended up addicted to drugs or alcohol for years, why someone had to finally hit rock bottom to realize that his life was a complete mess. I guess I just wonder where the "good people" are while all those people are hitting rock bottom.
My second problem with the testimony is that they're not all about hitting rock bottom. In fact, there's a lot of interesting stuff going on before the bad stuff hits. Hearing enough testimonies assures a young person that there's a whole lot of fun to be had before walking the straight and narrow. I mean, how fun is it to have the testimony that simply says, "Well, I went to church all my life, was a dedicated Christian, followed all the rules, and then got married and had a nice life. By the way, I also have exactly two children, a boy and a girl. And we have a family dog named Spot." I almost fell asleep just writing that. No, that's not fun at all. You want maybe some hookers in there and definitely some cocaine. And then the Saul on the Road to Damascus story because we know how this story ends. So, my second problem is that it makes the time before the conversion experience seem a bit too exciting, a bit too illicit and fun.
I'm not sure why I just wrote all of that, probably just to assure you that I'm not the kind of schmuck who normally falls for conversion stories. I'm actually pretty hardened to them by now, but I thought Lauren Winner's book sounded promising, and I was right. In fact, I knew I was right when this book started with Winner attending an academic conference, post-conversion and then proceeding to get drunk off a bottle of Maker's Mark--all within the first six pages. The thing is, for me she's human. She's someone to whom I can actually relate, and I think she's someone who's pretty relatable to many people who are normally put off by conversion stories. And, it's especially relatable because she lets us know that, despite having converted to Orthodox Judaism in college, she had trouble following all the rules of Orthodox Judaism. And, she also lets us know that her subsequent conversion to Christianity didn't prove a cure-all for these difficulties either, that neither Orthodox Judaism or Christianity had the power to make her more than human, more than fallible.
The thing about this book is that you do learn about struggles she has with her conversion to Christianity but that, within Christianity, she finds grace. You learn that she's not good at following the rules but that she really tries and that she really believes in them, in the value they offer to a community and to an individual. I guess what I have been accustomed to is a story that has a neat ending, a story that finishes with the former sinner leading a life in which we almost expect a halo to be permanently hovering over his head. Winner works hard to seek forgiveness and redemption for her sins, but she's not perfect. She's a real person, coming to a new religion as an adult and learning how to live within it as someone who has much life experience aready.
The other things I like about this conversion story is that it's theologically grounded while still speaking to the very personal experience of conversion and learning about what it means to have a relationship with Christ. The grounding in theology is largely owing to her study of Judaism, and she provides a good link between Old and New Testaments which is often lacking in Christian writing, a fact she notes herself, reminding us that the Bible doesn't start at Matthew. But even more than providing a good grounding in theology, I like the way she speaks to how understanding Christianity changed the way she lived her life, how it made her think about how she spent money or how she treated people. But, more importantly, she speaks to the immense love that this gives her, this feeling of being loved and of being able to love.
Also important to note is that Winner does a good job of explaining the difference between fundamentalist and evangelical Christians, referring to herself as evangelical. Winner points out that evangelicalism need not be associated with political affiliation and actually sees this link as a dangerous one. I think her way of explaining evangelical Christianity allows us to question the link between politics and faith in a way that opens us to a concept that political affiliation may not be a reliable indicator of religious faith and vice versa.
So, despite my distaste for testimonies, I have to say that this one is different. It doesn't end neatly, and it doesn't make me want to go out and have as much fun as possible before becoming one of those "good people" who listens to testimonies. What it does is give a very real way of looking at faith, at what happens when people are living out their faith and sometimes struggling to do so. So, if you are interested in something fun, witty, and challenging, I highly recommend this book!
I should come out and say that the book is the story of her conversion to Christianity from Orthodox Judaism. I'm usually not too big on conversion stories, really. I grew up Baptist, and I've heard enough "testimonies" to last a lifetime. I hate that genre of storytelling, and I often wonder if hearing those stories does more harm than good. If you will allow me a brief respite from the review, I'd like to speak to the genre of testimony.
For those not familiar with the testimony, it usually goes something like this. The person giving the testimony will tell of his life in darkness (that'd be sin), and then he will say that at the darkest moment there came some sort of Saul on the Road to Damascus moment when he "saw the light." After "seeing the light" he turned to a life in Christ and walked the straight and narrow. Awesome. If you're at some mega-church, I'm guessing there could be a swelling of music at important parts. And, to be fair, I meant nothing by the gendered pronoun use; we women are equally capable of sin or even more capable if you ask some men.
I hate the testimony for a lot of reasons, none of them kind. I'll give you two reasons though. First, I always feel like there's a sort of weird voyeuristic element at work. A bunch of "good people" sit around listening to a formerly "bad person" recounting all sorts of sin. The "good people" get a fix of what it's like in the evil world outside of the safety of the church.
But, I guess what bothers me about the voyeuristic aspect of the testimony is that it's sort of like watching Springer. If you're at all familiar with the tour de force that is Springer, you know that it's basically the same thing over and over. The same topics come up again and again, but, in just watching Springer, we don't stop to ask why those things keep happening. We accept that really unattractive men without jobs always have large women fighting over them. That's just how it is. We don't stop to ask why or step in to try and change things. We get immune to those stories, to the fact that they shouldn't happen all the time.
Same with testimonies. We forget to ask why someone ended up addicted to drugs or alcohol for years, why someone had to finally hit rock bottom to realize that his life was a complete mess. I guess I just wonder where the "good people" are while all those people are hitting rock bottom.
My second problem with the testimony is that they're not all about hitting rock bottom. In fact, there's a lot of interesting stuff going on before the bad stuff hits. Hearing enough testimonies assures a young person that there's a whole lot of fun to be had before walking the straight and narrow. I mean, how fun is it to have the testimony that simply says, "Well, I went to church all my life, was a dedicated Christian, followed all the rules, and then got married and had a nice life. By the way, I also have exactly two children, a boy and a girl. And we have a family dog named Spot." I almost fell asleep just writing that. No, that's not fun at all. You want maybe some hookers in there and definitely some cocaine. And then the Saul on the Road to Damascus story because we know how this story ends. So, my second problem is that it makes the time before the conversion experience seem a bit too exciting, a bit too illicit and fun.
I'm not sure why I just wrote all of that, probably just to assure you that I'm not the kind of schmuck who normally falls for conversion stories. I'm actually pretty hardened to them by now, but I thought Lauren Winner's book sounded promising, and I was right. In fact, I knew I was right when this book started with Winner attending an academic conference, post-conversion and then proceeding to get drunk off a bottle of Maker's Mark--all within the first six pages. The thing is, for me she's human. She's someone to whom I can actually relate, and I think she's someone who's pretty relatable to many people who are normally put off by conversion stories. And, it's especially relatable because she lets us know that, despite having converted to Orthodox Judaism in college, she had trouble following all the rules of Orthodox Judaism. And, she also lets us know that her subsequent conversion to Christianity didn't prove a cure-all for these difficulties either, that neither Orthodox Judaism or Christianity had the power to make her more than human, more than fallible.
The thing about this book is that you do learn about struggles she has with her conversion to Christianity but that, within Christianity, she finds grace. You learn that she's not good at following the rules but that she really tries and that she really believes in them, in the value they offer to a community and to an individual. I guess what I have been accustomed to is a story that has a neat ending, a story that finishes with the former sinner leading a life in which we almost expect a halo to be permanently hovering over his head. Winner works hard to seek forgiveness and redemption for her sins, but she's not perfect. She's a real person, coming to a new religion as an adult and learning how to live within it as someone who has much life experience aready.
The other things I like about this conversion story is that it's theologically grounded while still speaking to the very personal experience of conversion and learning about what it means to have a relationship with Christ. The grounding in theology is largely owing to her study of Judaism, and she provides a good link between Old and New Testaments which is often lacking in Christian writing, a fact she notes herself, reminding us that the Bible doesn't start at Matthew. But even more than providing a good grounding in theology, I like the way she speaks to how understanding Christianity changed the way she lived her life, how it made her think about how she spent money or how she treated people. But, more importantly, she speaks to the immense love that this gives her, this feeling of being loved and of being able to love.
Also important to note is that Winner does a good job of explaining the difference between fundamentalist and evangelical Christians, referring to herself as evangelical. Winner points out that evangelicalism need not be associated with political affiliation and actually sees this link as a dangerous one. I think her way of explaining evangelical Christianity allows us to question the link between politics and faith in a way that opens us to a concept that political affiliation may not be a reliable indicator of religious faith and vice versa.
So, despite my distaste for testimonies, I have to say that this one is different. It doesn't end neatly, and it doesn't make me want to go out and have as much fun as possible before becoming one of those "good people" who listens to testimonies. What it does is give a very real way of looking at faith, at what happens when people are living out their faith and sometimes struggling to do so. So, if you are interested in something fun, witty, and challenging, I highly recommend this book!
Friday, June 08, 2007
Sara: Inventor of the Already Invented
What some may know and even fewer may believe, is that I am a brilliant inventor. Specifically, I do a great job of inventing that which has already been invented. I have two major inventions. The first is MTV; the second is the Bible. I invented MTV about three years ago; the Bible I invented earlier today.
The invention of MTV was simple enough. I was grading papers back in the day when I had bajillions of papers to grade, and I needed some distraction. Now, I'm completely incapable of watching TV while I work, but I like having some sort of picture on the screen. I can sort of listen to music while I work. And then I thought, "Oh my! There it is! Pictures on a screen while music plays in the background! I'm brilliant!" This epiphany was quickly followed by a confused moment in which I thought that my idea sounded suspiciously familiar, as if it had already been done. And, then, of course, I remembered MTV.
My invention of the Bible was equally inspired. Lately, I've been giving much thought to religion, specifically to Christianity. And, more specifically, I've been wondering how such a belief should affect how I live, the choices I make, all of that good stuff. All of that stuff that's difficult and sort of scary all at the same time. But it's also the sort of stuff that's good, that forces me to actually live a belief rather than rest secure and apathetic in it. So, anyways, as I thought about how religion and a belief in the Triune God should influence my life, I thought, "This system of praying and waiting seems entirely inefficient. It would make a lot more sense if there was a book I could consult that would give me answers to what God thinks about various things." And that, my friends, is how I invented the Bible.
I feel sort of stupid relating either (and, actually now, both) of these stories. But, I'm not sure I'm a total idiot for wishing for either of these things. When I think of MTV in its current state, I don't think of pictures on a screen with music in the background. More likely, I think about really skanky dating shows or The Real World or something. And, I wonder if MTV really plays music, aside from TRL. Moreover, as I inch toward 30, I wonder if I'm even allowed to watch TRL. I certainly never do, and, for all I know, it may not even exist anymore.
Likewise, my invention of the Bible isn't that absurd either because the Bible wasn't even what I was thinking of, really. What it comes down to, is I want the ease of email in my religiosity. I want to be as sure of what Christianity means in my life as I am of what a friend says to me in an email. I want to say, "Hey, is this the correct path for my life, or is the other way better?" And then I want to get a witty and heartfelt reply, and I think maybe God could have some cool e-mail handle, too. Maybe God would IM as well, and that could be really handy for crises of faith, major catastrophes, conversions, and the like.
But, the important aspect of this would be that you would always get a reply in writing. I mean, writing you can take to the bank. Writing you can show people. What it comes down to is that writing makes sense, and, quite frankly, much of faith does not. But, in some ways, I suppose the not-knowing, the uncertainty is as much a part of the experience of living out a faith as those rare moment of total certainty, and sometimes it's in those moments of not-knowing that important things are going on.
That said, I'm giving up on MTV ever being what it could be, and I'm giving up on e-mailing God as well, though I may try to at some point. You never know when a catastrophe might happen!
The invention of MTV was simple enough. I was grading papers back in the day when I had bajillions of papers to grade, and I needed some distraction. Now, I'm completely incapable of watching TV while I work, but I like having some sort of picture on the screen. I can sort of listen to music while I work. And then I thought, "Oh my! There it is! Pictures on a screen while music plays in the background! I'm brilliant!" This epiphany was quickly followed by a confused moment in which I thought that my idea sounded suspiciously familiar, as if it had already been done. And, then, of course, I remembered MTV.
My invention of the Bible was equally inspired. Lately, I've been giving much thought to religion, specifically to Christianity. And, more specifically, I've been wondering how such a belief should affect how I live, the choices I make, all of that good stuff. All of that stuff that's difficult and sort of scary all at the same time. But it's also the sort of stuff that's good, that forces me to actually live a belief rather than rest secure and apathetic in it. So, anyways, as I thought about how religion and a belief in the Triune God should influence my life, I thought, "This system of praying and waiting seems entirely inefficient. It would make a lot more sense if there was a book I could consult that would give me answers to what God thinks about various things." And that, my friends, is how I invented the Bible.
I feel sort of stupid relating either (and, actually now, both) of these stories. But, I'm not sure I'm a total idiot for wishing for either of these things. When I think of MTV in its current state, I don't think of pictures on a screen with music in the background. More likely, I think about really skanky dating shows or The Real World or something. And, I wonder if MTV really plays music, aside from TRL. Moreover, as I inch toward 30, I wonder if I'm even allowed to watch TRL. I certainly never do, and, for all I know, it may not even exist anymore.
Likewise, my invention of the Bible isn't that absurd either because the Bible wasn't even what I was thinking of, really. What it comes down to, is I want the ease of email in my religiosity. I want to be as sure of what Christianity means in my life as I am of what a friend says to me in an email. I want to say, "Hey, is this the correct path for my life, or is the other way better?" And then I want to get a witty and heartfelt reply, and I think maybe God could have some cool e-mail handle, too. Maybe God would IM as well, and that could be really handy for crises of faith, major catastrophes, conversions, and the like.
But, the important aspect of this would be that you would always get a reply in writing. I mean, writing you can take to the bank. Writing you can show people. What it comes down to is that writing makes sense, and, quite frankly, much of faith does not. But, in some ways, I suppose the not-knowing, the uncertainty is as much a part of the experience of living out a faith as those rare moment of total certainty, and sometimes it's in those moments of not-knowing that important things are going on.
That said, I'm giving up on MTV ever being what it could be, and I'm giving up on e-mailing God as well, though I may try to at some point. You never know when a catastrophe might happen!
Monday, May 14, 2007
odd post
this will be an odd post. as in, this post will have nothing to do with shopping or shoes or makeup or cooking.
this is just to say that i think i've give up on ethical relativism. taylor's ethics of authenticity got me started on this kick, so here i am rethinking ethical relativism. and i'm also thinking that maybe there is a good life; like, perhaps there's more merit to that concept than what i've given it.
anyways, i highly highly recommend taylor's book. it's problematic in spots, but, overall, it has really beautiful things to say.
so there.
ps-i'm still into shoes. i just bought a cute pair the other day. i wore them to allerton park.
this is just to say that i think i've give up on ethical relativism. taylor's ethics of authenticity got me started on this kick, so here i am rethinking ethical relativism. and i'm also thinking that maybe there is a good life; like, perhaps there's more merit to that concept than what i've given it.
anyways, i highly highly recommend taylor's book. it's problematic in spots, but, overall, it has really beautiful things to say.
so there.
ps-i'm still into shoes. i just bought a cute pair the other day. i wore them to allerton park.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Fashion Friday!
Okay, this is my first Fashion Friday blog. But, I think it would be nice to talk not so much about fashion but about something every woman will probably struggle with at some point in her life. Namely, buying lingerie for someone who is not yourself. This dilemma usually presents itself in the form of shopping for a wedding shower gift.
I'm currently in the midst of the pre-wedding season, and I know I will face lingerie shopping pretty soon. I'm guessing I'm not the only one. You find yourself at the VS or in the lingerie section of some store, and then you wonder, "What on earth am I doing here?" It's not like shopping for yourself where there's the possibility of trying the stuff on. I mean, trying on the little lace something-or-other your friend will wear on her honeymoon? That's a little weird. Actually, it's a lot weird! So, you do the trick we all do, holding it up to yourself to see if it sort of looks like the right size...never works, does it? And how do you figure out sizes? Heaven knows you don't want to go too small. If you do that, your friend will just put it on and feel gross, but if you go too big your friend will wonder what kind of a cow you think she is. I assume this, because those are exactly the reactions I would have.
The thing is, I actually find the shopping kind of fun, but it does leave me perplexed. I suppose I will have to brave the lingerie section sooner or later, as we all must! I wish you all luck!
I'm currently in the midst of the pre-wedding season, and I know I will face lingerie shopping pretty soon. I'm guessing I'm not the only one. You find yourself at the VS or in the lingerie section of some store, and then you wonder, "What on earth am I doing here?" It's not like shopping for yourself where there's the possibility of trying the stuff on. I mean, trying on the little lace something-or-other your friend will wear on her honeymoon? That's a little weird. Actually, it's a lot weird! So, you do the trick we all do, holding it up to yourself to see if it sort of looks like the right size...never works, does it? And how do you figure out sizes? Heaven knows you don't want to go too small. If you do that, your friend will just put it on and feel gross, but if you go too big your friend will wonder what kind of a cow you think she is. I assume this, because those are exactly the reactions I would have.
The thing is, I actually find the shopping kind of fun, but it does leave me perplexed. I suppose I will have to brave the lingerie section sooner or later, as we all must! I wish you all luck!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Product Review! Fun with Burt's Bees
I have been a long-time fan of Burt's Bees, ever since I first tried a lovely pot of their lip balm, purchased at a Restoration Hardware. Instantly, it's fabulous tingliness worked its way into my heart, and I vowed to love Burt's Bees till death do us part. Okay, it might not be that big a commitment on my part, but I do love their stuff.
Unfortunately, I am not a super fan of their Honey Lip Balm. I spotted it a few months ago and thought, "I love Burt's Bees, and I love honey. With those two things together, this lip balm should be unstoppably good. Post-purhase, I smeared a little on, but there wasn't that familiar tingle, and the smell was a little weird. I'm not completely sure why, but this stuff just doesn't float my boat.
However, I would be remiss if I were not to mention how great their Therapeutic Bath crystals are. They are perfect after you've worked out or if you just feel run down (or over) in general. I'll also give a big shout out to their Citrus & Ginger Root Body Wash. It's great as a body wash, but it also makes a nice bubble bath, and the smell is really lovely! So, go out and get either of these; light a few candles; and settle in for a wonderful, hot bath!
Unfortunately, I am not a super fan of their Honey Lip Balm. I spotted it a few months ago and thought, "I love Burt's Bees, and I love honey. With those two things together, this lip balm should be unstoppably good. Post-purhase, I smeared a little on, but there wasn't that familiar tingle, and the smell was a little weird. I'm not completely sure why, but this stuff just doesn't float my boat.
However, I would be remiss if I were not to mention how great their Therapeutic Bath crystals are. They are perfect after you've worked out or if you just feel run down (or over) in general. I'll also give a big shout out to their Citrus & Ginger Root Body Wash. It's great as a body wash, but it also makes a nice bubble bath, and the smell is really lovely! So, go out and get either of these; light a few candles; and settle in for a wonderful, hot bath!
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Catching Up and Talking About English
It has been a bit since I last wrote, and I have to admit, as I'm sure you might have noticed, that I have yet to post a "Fashion Friday" blog. "Fashion Friday" was meant to be a super addition to the line-up, which, in all honesty, needed a bit of work. By that I mean, there needed to be more of a unifying thread throughout the blog.
I would say that, at this point, I resolve to never again let another Friday go unfashionable. I would say that, but it's probably not true. In fact, as I write this, I can't help but feel that this very Friday may be quite unfashionable. In case you were wondering, I'd originally planned to debut the "Fashion Friday" blog with an in-depth look at the high heel shoe. Perhaps it could have been titled: "High Heel Shoe: Friend or Foe?" Okay, that's a bit too pedestrian, but I think you catch my meaning. You know, a really hard-hitting analysis of the high heel and its place in our lives.
I'll transition those thoughts with three yesses and a no. Yes, I am serious about the high heel shoe blog. Yes, I am hoping for a Pulitzer. No, I'm not serious about the Pulitzer.
My next topic is English, as in the major, as in the thing I spent an inordinate amount of time working on (time that might have been better spent learning to decorate cakes or ballet dance, but I digress). Anyways, I always found it interesting when people would ask what I was majoring in. Then, of course, I'd have to say,"English." People generally respond to that by asking, "Do you plan to teach?" To which I would say, "No." I probably felt annoyed by that when I was younger. You know, always being asked the same question, always getting the same follow-up question, always getting the same perplexed look. I think that I wouldn't take it so terribly now. I mean, now that I really do teach. I'd probably just feel guilty and awkward that my teaching is limited, and probably always will be limited, to the university classroom, to those students who have made it past at least one sizable gatekeeper and into the university. Now, is that where the gatekeeping ends? No, of course not. I'm well aware of that, but I know that I'm not teaching in the sense that those people asking the question meant "teaching."
So, that is one response to the "major" question. Another response is for the question asker to suddenly become very aware of his or her own speech, with particular interest to grammar. The question asker always lets you know of his or her discomfort. Then I have to admit that I don't really care. Do I care about grammar? Sure, in some sense I do. But, I care more about the comfort of the conversation than I do about checking someone's ability to speak "properly." Who cares about that so much in casual conversation, really?
Anyways, as gesture of my not caring, I (a terrbile typist) have decided not to edit the blog. BEWARE. Typos and mistakes lurk throughout!
I would say that, at this point, I resolve to never again let another Friday go unfashionable. I would say that, but it's probably not true. In fact, as I write this, I can't help but feel that this very Friday may be quite unfashionable. In case you were wondering, I'd originally planned to debut the "Fashion Friday" blog with an in-depth look at the high heel shoe. Perhaps it could have been titled: "High Heel Shoe: Friend or Foe?" Okay, that's a bit too pedestrian, but I think you catch my meaning. You know, a really hard-hitting analysis of the high heel and its place in our lives.
I'll transition those thoughts with three yesses and a no. Yes, I am serious about the high heel shoe blog. Yes, I am hoping for a Pulitzer. No, I'm not serious about the Pulitzer.
My next topic is English, as in the major, as in the thing I spent an inordinate amount of time working on (time that might have been better spent learning to decorate cakes or ballet dance, but I digress). Anyways, I always found it interesting when people would ask what I was majoring in. Then, of course, I'd have to say,"English." People generally respond to that by asking, "Do you plan to teach?" To which I would say, "No." I probably felt annoyed by that when I was younger. You know, always being asked the same question, always getting the same follow-up question, always getting the same perplexed look. I think that I wouldn't take it so terribly now. I mean, now that I really do teach. I'd probably just feel guilty and awkward that my teaching is limited, and probably always will be limited, to the university classroom, to those students who have made it past at least one sizable gatekeeper and into the university. Now, is that where the gatekeeping ends? No, of course not. I'm well aware of that, but I know that I'm not teaching in the sense that those people asking the question meant "teaching."
So, that is one response to the "major" question. Another response is for the question asker to suddenly become very aware of his or her own speech, with particular interest to grammar. The question asker always lets you know of his or her discomfort. Then I have to admit that I don't really care. Do I care about grammar? Sure, in some sense I do. But, I care more about the comfort of the conversation than I do about checking someone's ability to speak "properly." Who cares about that so much in casual conversation, really?
Anyways, as gesture of my not caring, I (a terrbile typist) have decided not to edit the blog. BEWARE. Typos and mistakes lurk throughout!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Snow is Here!
Happiness is a snow day...when you're 28 years old and still a student, specifically when you're 28 and waiting to see if you must-must-must make it to an undergraduate class for which you TA. That has been my morning--looking out the window, wide eyed and amazed at the amount of snow accumulated and the amount of snow still falling. I can't even see my street or tell where the yard stops and where the street begins.
Before moving to the great North, I'd seen some snow. It snowed in my hometown when I was six, and I'd played in the snow a few times when visiting my grandparents at Christmas. But, this is a completely different type of snow. There are these huge, fluffy snowflakes coming down, and I bet I can make a decent snowball out of it when I get my lazy self outside. In fact, I made some snowballs yesterday as I walked to dinner after class, and then I rather pointlessly threw them at nothing or at the trees along the sidewalk. What can I say? I've never had much of a chance to make snowballs, so I take the opportunity when it presents itself.
So, along with getting the chance to make snowballs, this snowy land has introduced me to a whole snowy culture, an entire etiquette built around how to handle the cold weather. I sort of watch cold weather behavior, like an anthropologist studying the habits of an as yet unknown people, and then I replicate the behavior, figuring these people know what they're doing. Like, when you walk into a building, you stomp your feet on the doormat. This sounds silly and obvious, but I never think of snow being dirty, so I wouldn't have done this. From what I can see, stomping your feet on the mat serves a few purposes: 1. It gets rid of excess snow and salt so that you don't harm the floors; 2. It helps you have more traction on slicker floors; 3. Stomping of feet is a cultural practices and to not partake in this cultural practice has the effect of making the non-stomper a cultural Other. Um, okay, maybe number 3 is a bit of a strectch, but I'm not taking any chances. I will stomp.
There are other cold weather things I've learned here as well. For example, many people take their shoes off when going into houses. I have always been a bit anti-taking shoes off. Partly, this is due to being kind of short and feeling vulnerable when some of my height must be checked at the door. So, I just sort of stand in the entryway, all Carrie Bradshaw-like, thinking (while motioning up and down with hand) "BUT! This is an outfit!" True story, I have difficulty with the way fashion becomes the unwitting victim of function in these parts. I'm trying to reconcile this. I find that perusing neimanmarcus.com keeps my brain in check. It is a vain endeavor, but the things are so pretty! And, I figure I"m still being good because I don't actually buy any of it.
Okay, as you can see, a snow day means a lot of writing. I think it might also mean curling up in bed for a little while longer and watching some silly morning shows before getting onto some real work. So, stay warm!
Before moving to the great North, I'd seen some snow. It snowed in my hometown when I was six, and I'd played in the snow a few times when visiting my grandparents at Christmas. But, this is a completely different type of snow. There are these huge, fluffy snowflakes coming down, and I bet I can make a decent snowball out of it when I get my lazy self outside. In fact, I made some snowballs yesterday as I walked to dinner after class, and then I rather pointlessly threw them at nothing or at the trees along the sidewalk. What can I say? I've never had much of a chance to make snowballs, so I take the opportunity when it presents itself.
So, along with getting the chance to make snowballs, this snowy land has introduced me to a whole snowy culture, an entire etiquette built around how to handle the cold weather. I sort of watch cold weather behavior, like an anthropologist studying the habits of an as yet unknown people, and then I replicate the behavior, figuring these people know what they're doing. Like, when you walk into a building, you stomp your feet on the doormat. This sounds silly and obvious, but I never think of snow being dirty, so I wouldn't have done this. From what I can see, stomping your feet on the mat serves a few purposes: 1. It gets rid of excess snow and salt so that you don't harm the floors; 2. It helps you have more traction on slicker floors; 3. Stomping of feet is a cultural practices and to not partake in this cultural practice has the effect of making the non-stomper a cultural Other. Um, okay, maybe number 3 is a bit of a strectch, but I'm not taking any chances. I will stomp.
There are other cold weather things I've learned here as well. For example, many people take their shoes off when going into houses. I have always been a bit anti-taking shoes off. Partly, this is due to being kind of short and feeling vulnerable when some of my height must be checked at the door. So, I just sort of stand in the entryway, all Carrie Bradshaw-like, thinking (while motioning up and down with hand) "BUT! This is an outfit!" True story, I have difficulty with the way fashion becomes the unwitting victim of function in these parts. I'm trying to reconcile this. I find that perusing neimanmarcus.com keeps my brain in check. It is a vain endeavor, but the things are so pretty! And, I figure I"m still being good because I don't actually buy any of it.
Okay, as you can see, a snow day means a lot of writing. I think it might also mean curling up in bed for a little while longer and watching some silly morning shows before getting onto some real work. So, stay warm!
Monday, February 12, 2007
Sometimes Happy Tunes are Just Good!
I consider myself pretty much the queen of the guilty pleasure. I think I've seen all of VH1's "I Love The" series, and I may have seen one or more episodes of "Flavor of Love." Foodwise, I have been known to partake in that oh-so-nasty combo of plastic orange cheese and noodles known as Velveeta Shells and Cheese, and the burrito is my all-time favorite food, tied only with a giant sundae from Shake's (specifically--vanilla custard, hot fudge, salted pecans, three cherries on top). And if you heard the rumor that I nearly reduced a Shake's employee to tears just before I moved to the great North, this might also be true. Okay, in truth, there were no tears; there was, however, a free giant chocolate malt on account of their being out of the beloved pecans and my eminent move.
Now that I've set the stage, it should come as no surprise that my love of the guilty pleasure extends to the world of music. I'm guilty of the occasional dance to Culture Club as well as singing along to some Gwen (B-A-N-A-N-A-S, embarrassingly enough). But, lately, I've started to hugely love Corinne Bailey Rae's "Put Your Records On" and Feist's "Mushaboom." Both songs are infinitely infectious and make me almost burst with smiling whenever I hear them. So, I highly recommend giving these songs a go. Listen and Love!
Now that I've set the stage, it should come as no surprise that my love of the guilty pleasure extends to the world of music. I'm guilty of the occasional dance to Culture Club as well as singing along to some Gwen (B-A-N-A-N-A-S, embarrassingly enough). But, lately, I've started to hugely love Corinne Bailey Rae's "Put Your Records On" and Feist's "Mushaboom." Both songs are infinitely infectious and make me almost burst with smiling whenever I hear them. So, I highly recommend giving these songs a go. Listen and Love!
Friday, February 09, 2007
Fashion Friday!
I've decided to take a turn and introduce "Fashion Friday!" to the mixed up files. The thinking behind this introduction is that it'll be fun to think about my favorite thing (fashion, sorry M) on my favorite day (Friday, sorry other days of the week). I may or may not have been influenced to do this during my Friday ritual of watching What Not to Wear.
So, Fashion Fridays will bring you my loves and loathes of fashion. Stay tuned!
So, Fashion Fridays will bring you my loves and loathes of fashion. Stay tuned!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
oh, cooking!
so, i've been quite the cook over the holiday. and, you know what? most of it has been fantastic. i say "most" because the swiss chard was not so fantastic. i think (as does my mother) that the chard's lack of fantabulousness was owing to the quality of the chard itself. true story. i made it tasty, but i was working with less than stellar stuff.
that means that i've made a lot of really good stuff. what kind of good stuff, you might ask? okay, here's a list:
1. fudge
2. brownies
3. cookies
4. blackberry bread pudding
5. pasta carbonara
6. gorgonzola mashed potatoes
so, yes, i can cook. i can cook without killing people or making them think, "well, this is gross." and, here's hoping this good cooking streak will continue!
that means that i've made a lot of really good stuff. what kind of good stuff, you might ask? okay, here's a list:
1. fudge
2. brownies
3. cookies
4. blackberry bread pudding
5. pasta carbonara
6. gorgonzola mashed potatoes
so, yes, i can cook. i can cook without killing people or making them think, "well, this is gross." and, here's hoping this good cooking streak will continue!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Denied!
Dear Reader(s),
To update you all on the progress of my struggle with SAD, I must add that there has been some disbelief that I truly do suffer from this horrible affliction. Said disbelief comes from the most unexpected camp.
M--formerly my resident psychologist extraordinaire--has expressed the opinion that I do not suffer from SAD at all and that my problem might be self- rather than weather-inflicted. I see this as a blame-the-victim mentality that is completely inexcusable, and this is why I'm no longer attaching "extrordinaire" to his descriptor.
In short, SAD is a real problem that should not be taken lightly or attempted to be disproved with the use of an article found in a shoddy college newspaper. No. This is not acceptable. SAD sufferers must be treated with kindness and caring because their struggle with the weather is very painful and very real.
Thank you,
Sara [President, People for the Fair Treatment of SAD Sufferers]
To update you all on the progress of my struggle with SAD, I must add that there has been some disbelief that I truly do suffer from this horrible affliction. Said disbelief comes from the most unexpected camp.
M--formerly my resident psychologist extraordinaire--has expressed the opinion that I do not suffer from SAD at all and that my problem might be self- rather than weather-inflicted. I see this as a blame-the-victim mentality that is completely inexcusable, and this is why I'm no longer attaching "extrordinaire" to his descriptor.
In short, SAD is a real problem that should not be taken lightly or attempted to be disproved with the use of an article found in a shoddy college newspaper. No. This is not acceptable. SAD sufferers must be treated with kindness and caring because their struggle with the weather is very painful and very real.
Thank you,
Sara [President, People for the Fair Treatment of SAD Sufferers]
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Oh the weather outside...
Well, it's that time of year again. Yes, folks, it's time for the yearly update on my battle with Seasonal Affective Disorder. That's right! SAD.
It should be noted that this is a self-diagnosis made by, well, me. I consider myself a qualified psychologist, having spent years reading advice columns in magazines and newspapers, studying literary criticism, and watching a fair amount of Dr. Phil and Oprah. And, as such, I feel able to diagnose myself as suffering from SAD.
My battle with SAD started last year during my first winter in the Midwest. It was a time that found me questioning the reason for total darkness at 4:30pm, cursing like a sailor at the cruel Illinois wind, and spending an inordinate number of hours conducting on-line research in an effort to cure my illness.
On-line research proved only moderately helpful because SAD is an actual problem, requiring the ability to gain access to equipment that only real-live doctors or tanning bed operators can get, as the first cure I found was light therapy. Not having any source of light therapy myself and not wanting to risk skin cancer (or becoming the owner of a lot of creepy coconut-smelling tan booster) by heading to the tanning salon, I decided my best bet would be the grocery store. It's light; it's bright; it's full of cheesy music from the 80s that really speaks to my SAD-afflicted soul. So, I tried that out. It seemed to work pretty well, though I ended up spending a lot of time at the local grocery in the middle of the night.
I also ended up heading to the local Wal-Mart looking for light. This just ended with me contemplating the use of synthetic fabrics in the lingerie department but also thinking that sparkles could be a sexy addition to any girl's trousseau, a pretty good indicator that I was heading in a downward spiral the end of which was nowhere in sight.
In truth, I sort of lied about this being the first cure I spotted. There was one before that, but I almost needed a therapist to get over the trauma induced upon reading about it. The cure was found on some family-friendly site. They suggested playing board games. Those who know me well understand the trauma. Those who don't should keep my wine glass perpetually filled at a party and then, after a few hours, ask how it was to be an only child. Specifically, reference Pictionary.
So, anyways, I know this all may sound silly, but I really do hate this time of year in the Midwest, and I find it almost impossible to be cheery when it's so grey outside. Usually, I just want to shuffle around my apartment in my jammies, wishing I was somewhere warm with blue skies.
On the up-side, I just have a few more years of this. And, like my mom said, "Just imagine how bad it would be if you lived somewhere really cold. Like Alaska."
It should be noted that this is a self-diagnosis made by, well, me. I consider myself a qualified psychologist, having spent years reading advice columns in magazines and newspapers, studying literary criticism, and watching a fair amount of Dr. Phil and Oprah. And, as such, I feel able to diagnose myself as suffering from SAD.
My battle with SAD started last year during my first winter in the Midwest. It was a time that found me questioning the reason for total darkness at 4:30pm, cursing like a sailor at the cruel Illinois wind, and spending an inordinate number of hours conducting on-line research in an effort to cure my illness.
On-line research proved only moderately helpful because SAD is an actual problem, requiring the ability to gain access to equipment that only real-live doctors or tanning bed operators can get, as the first cure I found was light therapy. Not having any source of light therapy myself and not wanting to risk skin cancer (or becoming the owner of a lot of creepy coconut-smelling tan booster) by heading to the tanning salon, I decided my best bet would be the grocery store. It's light; it's bright; it's full of cheesy music from the 80s that really speaks to my SAD-afflicted soul. So, I tried that out. It seemed to work pretty well, though I ended up spending a lot of time at the local grocery in the middle of the night.
I also ended up heading to the local Wal-Mart looking for light. This just ended with me contemplating the use of synthetic fabrics in the lingerie department but also thinking that sparkles could be a sexy addition to any girl's trousseau, a pretty good indicator that I was heading in a downward spiral the end of which was nowhere in sight.
In truth, I sort of lied about this being the first cure I spotted. There was one before that, but I almost needed a therapist to get over the trauma induced upon reading about it. The cure was found on some family-friendly site. They suggested playing board games. Those who know me well understand the trauma. Those who don't should keep my wine glass perpetually filled at a party and then, after a few hours, ask how it was to be an only child. Specifically, reference Pictionary.
So, anyways, I know this all may sound silly, but I really do hate this time of year in the Midwest, and I find it almost impossible to be cheery when it's so grey outside. Usually, I just want to shuffle around my apartment in my jammies, wishing I was somewhere warm with blue skies.
On the up-side, I just have a few more years of this. And, like my mom said, "Just imagine how bad it would be if you lived somewhere really cold. Like Alaska."
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Sleeping
Sometimes I think sleep is the greatest thing ever.
I mean, as long as I'm not listening to my nightmare-inducing mix.
Then I'd rather just be shopping for shoes. :)
I mean, as long as I'm not listening to my nightmare-inducing mix.
Then I'd rather just be shopping for shoes. :)
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Not a Mix-Master
So, a few months ago, I decided to make a little mix of songs that would be good to listen to when I went to sleep. I occasionally have great trouble falling asleep, so I thought it would be worth a shot. And, perhaps this could be a natural way to fall asleep that would even trump those oh-so-nice pills I picked up in Paris awhile ago. [Editor's note: Said pills are totally legal and available over the counter, so I'm not getting too crazy even with those!]
French Pharms aside, the mix seemed a fabulous idea, so I set about putting together some songs that I thought would be nice and mellow. In truth, I'm pretty bad at remembering song titles, so much of the mix is comprised of songs that I somehow remembered to be slow and mellow.
Perhaps my terrible memory was at fault. I'll blame it on that. Because, on playing the mix, I had nightmares. EVERY NIGHT!
That's right. Terrible, horrible nightmares that I don't even really want to talk about, truth be told.
So, I'm not good at making mixes. I will never make you a mix, no matter how much I like you...maybe if I really dislike you though...
French Pharms aside, the mix seemed a fabulous idea, so I set about putting together some songs that I thought would be nice and mellow. In truth, I'm pretty bad at remembering song titles, so much of the mix is comprised of songs that I somehow remembered to be slow and mellow.
Perhaps my terrible memory was at fault. I'll blame it on that. Because, on playing the mix, I had nightmares. EVERY NIGHT!
That's right. Terrible, horrible nightmares that I don't even really want to talk about, truth be told.
So, I'm not good at making mixes. I will never make you a mix, no matter how much I like you...maybe if I really dislike you though...
Monday, November 20, 2006
Oh, Thanksgiving!
Okay, this is where I admit that I love Thanksgiving. I know, I know. It's not at all right to like T-day anymore. But, I do.
And, here is why. I just like the very idea of being thankful. Of taking one day and being glad about the good things in life and being kind to your family and all of that stuff.
I guess my love of Thanksgiving is that I don't really associate it with anything. I don't feel overly patriotic or thankful for my country or any of that. It's not that I'm opposed to that; I just don't do it. I just feel glad to have my family around and to be able to see them and to, hopefully, manage to cook something that turns out. (fingers crossed, people! this year, it's a cheeseball--very retro and not at all something that goes in the oven. i imagine good things will come of this!)
So, I like Thanksgiving. I like the mad crush at the grocery store, and I like to see shopping carts full of earth-tone and orange foods that we normally never eat. And I like that everyone looks a little crazy at this time of year.
In the words of the icon of domesticity, it's a good thing!
And, here is why. I just like the very idea of being thankful. Of taking one day and being glad about the good things in life and being kind to your family and all of that stuff.
I guess my love of Thanksgiving is that I don't really associate it with anything. I don't feel overly patriotic or thankful for my country or any of that. It's not that I'm opposed to that; I just don't do it. I just feel glad to have my family around and to be able to see them and to, hopefully, manage to cook something that turns out. (fingers crossed, people! this year, it's a cheeseball--very retro and not at all something that goes in the oven. i imagine good things will come of this!)
So, I like Thanksgiving. I like the mad crush at the grocery store, and I like to see shopping carts full of earth-tone and orange foods that we normally never eat. And I like that everyone looks a little crazy at this time of year.
In the words of the icon of domesticity, it's a good thing!
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Domesticity: The Brownie Debacle
So, the other night, spurred on by some odd domestic zeal, I decided to make brownies. I found a recipe in this month's Jane magazine and went for it. A short trip to the grocery store and I was making what looked like some really tasty brownies.
Only, they were not really tasty brownies. They were dry and tough and not at all sweet enough. In short, not tasty.
And the crazy thing is, I'm really good at making brownies. I'll admit that I'm not much of a cook in general. I do well to heat up soup. But baking is a different story. I can bake. Only, now it looks like I can't.
Oh well, I'm going to give this baking thing another shot, if only to save face!
Only, they were not really tasty brownies. They were dry and tough and not at all sweet enough. In short, not tasty.
And the crazy thing is, I'm really good at making brownies. I'll admit that I'm not much of a cook in general. I do well to heat up soup. But baking is a different story. I can bake. Only, now it looks like I can't.
Oh well, I'm going to give this baking thing another shot, if only to save face!
Myspace as Personal Ad
Two things I find hilarious: (1) Myspace and (2) Personal Ads.
I find these funny for the same reason--people are terrible at describing themselves. Just think how difficult it can be to write something like a resume. Now imagine doing that in a much more casual atmosphere, but one in which you're expected to convey humor or make someone think you're the love of his/her life.
Anyways, what i find even more humorous is the use of Myspace as personal ad. It happens, really. And it's rarely good. But it's often funny.
I guess I find this funny because it makes me uncomfortable, as it's something I would never do. Maybe because I spend most of my time at home writing and stressing over coursework and, apparently, surfing Myspace for humorous profiles.
So, look for this odd use of Myspace. You may find it funny as well.
I find these funny for the same reason--people are terrible at describing themselves. Just think how difficult it can be to write something like a resume. Now imagine doing that in a much more casual atmosphere, but one in which you're expected to convey humor or make someone think you're the love of his/her life.
Anyways, what i find even more humorous is the use of Myspace as personal ad. It happens, really. And it's rarely good. But it's often funny.
I guess I find this funny because it makes me uncomfortable, as it's something I would never do. Maybe because I spend most of my time at home writing and stressing over coursework and, apparently, surfing Myspace for humorous profiles.
So, look for this odd use of Myspace. You may find it funny as well.
Friday, October 27, 2006
smells and such
dear friends,
as you may know, i am very affected by smell. the wrong smell can make me nearly double over with discomfort. this is usually produced when i smell a woman wearing too much cloyingly sweet perfume, the worst smell in all the world, i think .
so, anyways, being someone who is so affected by smell, it is really painful to me that my car has taken on an odor. i think the smell is dead mouse. i'm not sure how i came to this or why it strikes me as a logical conclusion. in fact, that it strikes me as a logical conclusion causes me no small self-doubt. i mean, who assumes dead mouse?
i have not yet fully investigated the smell, but i plan a full-on exploration of the car. i will keep you apprised.
until then, your smelly friend,
sara
as you may know, i am very affected by smell. the wrong smell can make me nearly double over with discomfort. this is usually produced when i smell a woman wearing too much cloyingly sweet perfume, the worst smell in all the world, i think .
so, anyways, being someone who is so affected by smell, it is really painful to me that my car has taken on an odor. i think the smell is dead mouse. i'm not sure how i came to this or why it strikes me as a logical conclusion. in fact, that it strikes me as a logical conclusion causes me no small self-doubt. i mean, who assumes dead mouse?
i have not yet fully investigated the smell, but i plan a full-on exploration of the car. i will keep you apprised.
until then, your smelly friend,
sara
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
beware the stalker...
i'm a stalker.
yeah. a stalker.
okay, i got on friendster. i looked up people, including the girl my high school boyfriend started dating right after we broke up (yeah, i'm a total weirdo, but why not?). they actually broke up years ago, so we’ll refer to her as ex-GF of ex-BF from here on out.
so, i read her profile and realized that i would have been friends with her. now i plan to date men, break up with them, and then befriend the women they start dating. why not? chances are we'll have things in common, and chances are their relationship won't work either.
it's a plan.
here's the stalker part. i got an email showing me who'd been checking out my friendster profile. i thought, “weird. ex-GF of ex-BF checked me out.” so, my next thought was: "that's so weird that she checked out my profile because...i…just...oh my word...she knows."
so then i ducked away from the computer as if she could see me looking at her. the creepiest part is that i really did just want to check out friendster, so there is no info about or picture of me, no identifying markers, just a blank screen that gives my name and location. so i really am a friendster stalker of sorts.
okay, so now you know that i'm a stalker. but aren't we all in this high-tech age? i say that we are.
damn.
a stalker.
yeah. a stalker.
okay, i got on friendster. i looked up people, including the girl my high school boyfriend started dating right after we broke up (yeah, i'm a total weirdo, but why not?). they actually broke up years ago, so we’ll refer to her as ex-GF of ex-BF from here on out.
so, i read her profile and realized that i would have been friends with her. now i plan to date men, break up with them, and then befriend the women they start dating. why not? chances are we'll have things in common, and chances are their relationship won't work either.
it's a plan.
here's the stalker part. i got an email showing me who'd been checking out my friendster profile. i thought, “weird. ex-GF of ex-BF checked me out.” so, my next thought was: "that's so weird that she checked out my profile because...i…just...oh my word...she knows."
so then i ducked away from the computer as if she could see me looking at her. the creepiest part is that i really did just want to check out friendster, so there is no info about or picture of me, no identifying markers, just a blank screen that gives my name and location. so i really am a friendster stalker of sorts.
okay, so now you know that i'm a stalker. but aren't we all in this high-tech age? i say that we are.
damn.
a stalker.
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