(shocking)(realisation)

I just realised that I use parentheses way too often (seriously). I just wrote an e-mail (well, I'm in the middle of writing it), and there were three short paragraphs, in which I used parentheses FIVE (5) times.

I didn't use up just my share of parentheses; I used all my neighbours (within a five-mile radius) parentheses, too. I'm half expecting them to come knocking on my door (with torches and pitchforks).


I meant parentheses. Not ellipses. I used to be an ellipsoholic, but I've been sober for 21 days now.

Recipe for a strawberry smoothie:

5 large strawberries, halved
3 ice cubes
1/4 cup orange juice
drop of vanilla
splash (1/2 shot?) of coconut rum

blend well until there are no ice chunks. pour into frosted mug and serve. be warned that if you drink this over a period of a few hours, the seeds will sink to the bottom. so don't drink that last gulp.

Optional ingredients: viewing of "Van Helsing" (long live Hugh Jackman!), Conan O'Brien, infomercials, and part of "Red Green" (obviously, plan this portion of the night late enough that this show is actually funny).

and, ah, don't try the rum straight. my throat is still warm.

"the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star"

Over winter break, I read a biography of Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald, F. Scott Fitzgerald's wife. In the book there were many quotes from F. Scott Fitzgerald's books, and every single one I read thrilled me. I adored the way he wrote, and lapped up all these short groupings of sentences, these little snippets of his larger works. One of them in particular gave me goosebumps -- it was so perfect, and it was immediately transferred to my quote book.

From The Great Gatsby:

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy's white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

I borrowed The Great Gatsby from the library a few days ago, along with a couple Madeleine L'Engle books. Those were like candy; I'd read them before, and I gobbled them down quickly, waited a day, and then turned to my first F. Scott Fitzgerald work. I had known from the quotes that this was a book I would love; this was a book I would have to savour, read slowly, drinking in every last word. I just finished it tonight, loathe to have it be over. It was so beautiful, so perfect; F. Scott Fitzgerald is, to me, the John Singer Sargent of the literary world.

On the last afternoon before he went abroad, he sat with Daisy in his arms for a long, silent time. It was a cold fall day, with fire in the room and her cheeks flushed. Now and then she moved and he changed his arm a little, and once he kissed her dark shining hair. The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while, as if to give them a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised. They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

-

"Anchorman" is being shown tonight and tomorrow night on campus. I'm thinking of shelling out the $2 fee (WHY!? as if we haven't paid this place enough. geez) and going, because I need the laugh. Plus, the last time I saw it was on the plane. :D

"You are so wise. You're like a miniature Buddha. Covered in hair."

Speech #1: Special Occasion

So, I know I shouldn't've put off this "writing a speech outline" thing as long as I have; we received the assignment on Thursday. Friday night, I decided I was going to go home this weekend. I've been extremely lonely over the past few days, and I just wanted to go home, make my cat purr (she hadn't purred since I left), sleep, and be where there are people I can joke around with, people who KNOW ME, people I'm comfortable around, and can give hugs to. I didn't get much homework done (I arrived home about 12 on saturday, and left at 3 today); I slept a lot, made supper, watched British comedies, and spent time with my family. And now, 226 miles later, I'm back in my dorm with my Paris poster, my London poster, stamping materials, a loaf of really great homemade wheat/flax bread, and lots of homework.

The most important in the Homework Lineup is: THIS SPEECH. GRR. I hardly ever have writer's block, but I do with this speech. The outline is due tomorrow. It's supposed to be on anything we want it to be, and I'm allowed to use my imagination, but I can't think of ANYTHING (let's blame it on Mono! ;) ). It's as though my imagination is asleep, and I can't wake it up. Poke. Poke.

My friend Kristen and I are going to get highlights or something tomorrow (or sometime this week); the tech school next door has really great prices ($7, anyone?), and we both are itching to do something to our hair.

So here comes a speech about accepting an award for Worst Hair of the Year. How THRILLING.

[edit]blogger won't let me change the font or the font size. noooo![/edit]

75% loner

Loner 75% Drama nerd 63% Geek 56% Stoner 25% Prep/Jock/Cheerleader 19% Goth 19% Punk/Rebel 13% Ghetto gangsta 0% What's Your High School Stereotype? created with QuizFarm.com

Thinking...

...there's nothing funnier than hearing a Mexican talk about "...there are leetle fishees, and what? [indistinct mumbling in background] oh, and you should leeve your phone on, yes."
...nothing more disturbing than finding out that a priest you talked to -- NO, I CAN'T FINISH THIS. It is TOO DISTURBING. It would forever wreak HAVOC on your delicate senses ("omg I KNOW WHO THAT IS! I TALKED TO HIM. UGH, UGH UGH.").

...I need to finish this paper. (But I don't want to!) I have to. (But I'm hungry!) NO, I'M NOT. I just had my first aerobics class today (burn, baby, burrrrn). So shut up. (But I'm tired!) My fault for not doing it before -- for typing/saving in Word some poems from a few years ago that I hadn't saved to disk before INSTEAD of typing up the paper for history. (But the teacher. She's a moron.) I know. I know she is. But I need to do my paper. NOW. Even though she's a moron.

My hands smell like microwave popcorn.

people!

I'm begging (that was accidental, but how appropriate) beginning to know some people here. Last week, I had supper with my roommate twice, lunch with Joe (and Juan for a bit) one day, and lunch with Paul another; and Joe and I had breakfast together Friday morning.

Thursday evening, I went to the InterVarsity meeting in the student center, and met a few really nice people (there were many, but I only met a few) -- one of them I'd seen before, and he always struck me as someone I'd want to know; the first time I'd seen him, he was at the buffet where the hot food is, and as he was the only one there, and coming from the other direction, I scooted over there for a second to get my little bowl of veggies (to accompany my salad. usually the only thing I can eat there. of course.). It took just a second, but he caught me: "*loud, loud, loud gasp* You. BUDGED!" "Oh, I am so sorry! Please forgive me!?" "Okay, okay. Just DON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN." We both laughed, and after that, whenever we saw each other on campus, we smiled -- and I met him! At the meeting! So now there's a name to go with the face! And I just saw him again! Someone I know!

And tonight, I spent 3 hours talking and giggling with a new friend -- a girl from Sri Lanka. A friend! Yay!!

The computer lab smells like cat poop.

it was a spiritual experience...

I saw Jesus in health class.

so the other day, I was...um, I dunno...

One of the worst side-effects of mono (ding-ding!) is the forgetfulness. NOBODY WARNED ME ABOUT THE FORGETFULNESS. I knew I'd be tired, duh. I knew I'd be going around kissing everyone to infect THEM, TOO. duh. But the forgetfulness? I didn't see it coming (at least, if I did, I can't remember).

Last week, I was scurrying around the room in the morning, getting ready for class. I put on my socks, went to the closet for my shoes, and they weren't there. I looked under the desk -- not there, either. Now, this is a small room. There aren't many places a pair of shoes could hide. And besides, I wear them ALL THE TIME. I tried to remember what I'd done the night before (roomie: Did you leave them in the bathroom?): checked my e-mail in the computer lab; taken a shower. I didn't check in the bathroom, because I wear my flip-flops in the shower. I went down the four flights of stairs to the computer lab, and there were my shoes, snuggled up together under the big table. I'm so glad they were there -- but I just couldn't understand how I'd worn them to the computer lab, and then left them there, dodging puddles of water on the tile steps and getting my socks wet, still, as I went back to my room that night.

A day later, I went to take my shower, and had to go back to the room 3 times for things I'd forgotten -- each time, taking only one thing. First it was the flip-flops, then it was my towel, then it was clothes...

I woke up today, climbed down out of bed, and my roommate was playing with her laptop, then looked up at me. "Hey, Dänika, did you leave your pants in the bathroom last night?"
"[imparting my frustration at the realization that I must have. OF COURSE. Who else on my floor would walk off without her pants!?!*] YES."
"They're still there."
"Still on the floor?"
"No, someone picked them up and put them on the table."

A few minutes later, I went to take my shower, sure I had everything (I'd even remembered my deodorant and lotion!). Washcloth, soap, shampoo, handtowel, razor, facewash, clothes...I stepped out of the shower to find that I HAD NO TOWEL. Have you ever dried off with a small handtowel and toilet paper? It takes FOREVER.

* note: I wasn't naked; I'd changed into my pajama pants in the bathroom. Just so you know.