(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.

oh, the irony...

"GLENDALE, Calif. - The suicidal man who authorities say caused the chain-reaction train derailment that killed 11 people has been charged with multiple counts of murder and could face the death penalty, the district attorney said Thursday."

Thinking...

...Who says,"destroying with reckless abandon" and "without the fear of great repercussion" in history class, in a spur of the moment 5-sentence oral answer about the first half of the chapter? Me. of course. "reckless abandon"? "great repercussion"? No wonder I have no social life; I'm a nerd. NERD!

Trafalgar Square

Photobucket

This is a test post from Photobucket.com

"Recently." "Yes! Recently."

I'm attempting to study, but she is talking to me, chatting about her two harleys ("I've spent about $30,000 at the shop in the past two years I figure; I paid $20,000 for this custom one..."), about the aluminum wheels she wants to buy, about the lamp for the front of the motorcycle, the $150 lamp the dog chewed up. I can't grasp spending that kind of money in the first place, but especially not on a expensive toy that you can only really use a few months out of the year up here. She stretches out on her bed, her Japanese history book falling closed, and barks, "You know, some people spend money on clothes..." she pauses, and I get the feeling she's gearing up for a quote she's used before. "...I spend money on chrome."

****

I'm not used to this tiredness, this all-consuming exhaustion that renders my mind useless, my body slow. I'm used to being able to spike my blood sugar with food, used to having protein if I'm tired and then, as it is digested, losing the tiredness. Now, I can eat right, eat protein, and my body still drags. I can manage an hour at a time, and then my thoughts feel like they're slogging through mud; they're slow in coming, disjointed, and forgotten by the time I actually think them. It's frustrating; when I take notes from the textbooks, I can only write a word or two at a time before having to look back at the book; in classes, I usually can't remember what the professor says long enough to write it down. I wonder how long this will last; it's getting old already.

****

Last night I said hi-in-passing to a guy in the cafeteria. A while later, when I was sitting in my room doing my communications homework -- with the door open, because I'm trying to meet people -- I saw him walk past with a couple of girls. He came back past my room again, and the third time, he stopped in and said hi. Introduced himself, asked me what my major is, and we talked for awhile. My roommate was making hot tea, and asked him if he wanted any, so we three sat around, talked, and had hot tea. I'm laughing right now at the situation...it's just so weird. Anyway. His sister is on this floor, which is why he was here. He's from Nigeria, a business major, and he seems really nice. Another person I can recognize and say hi to!

Yesterday I was walking down the hall in one of the centers on campus, checking out where a certain classroom is, and a few people walked past me in the opposite direction. I stopped, because I recognized the girl's voice. I turned around, and she had stopped and turned, too. "Danika?" "Jessica!" "HI!!!!" It was so nice to run into her! I know her from home; we used to work together, and this summer, she was the lead character (and did a super job) in a musical I played piano for. :) So now I have a few people around campus I know. It's much better than feeling like the campus was full of strangers.

poppies, poppies.

Sleep, sleep.

I am so tired. I have so much I have to do, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

look quick! historic moment!!

My lamp casts a muted light through the room, and my stereo (my parents brought it up here on Sunday, when they came to visit; aaah. my stereo. how I missed you!) is playing my new! Phantom of the Opera CD. (I really need to put this package of Oreos away.) Yes. This is a historic moment indeed. Not because it was my first day of classes (which it was); not because my student ID wouldn't work in the cafeteria because the meal plan hadn't been activated (which is also true), BUT!! I am writing this from the privacy of my room. Room! Laptop! Amazing! Writing in bed! What a feat!

Procuring the laptop itself was quite an adventure. My roommate showed up a day early (I was taking a nap, and heard a stratch-tapping at the door -- went over, and she was standing outside, unable to work the lock), and after a little chat -- I wasn't in a chatty mood, but she always is -- I escaped and scooted over to the student center to mail some letters. I didn't want to go back to the room right away, so I went over to the tech center on the off-chance there might be a laptop available. The work-study student there gave me the same look he had when I'd asked about checking out a laptop last week (that, "Yeah, right" look), but the smirk disappeared when he checked the database and found there WAS one! hahah! Take that, suckah!

It's mine until Wednesday afternoon at 3, and I am loving it.

Speaking of loving it -- the Phantom CD I bought (my first new CD in, oh, 2 years?) has been playing nearly non-stop since yesterday afternoon. "All I Ask of You" is by far my favourite song; when I was falling asleep to Phantom last night, though, it changed to "Masquerade," and in my semi-conscious state, I wondered why the chorus was singing "Masturbate." That new Health book is something else, lemme tell you.

Speaking of which (PHANTOM), Kristen and I are going to go see it sometime this week. I've heard mixed reviews; the biggest problem people had with it was that the Phantom is too good-looking (GORGEOUS); someone on the Joshua Bell message board said something the lines of, "the Phantom is supposed to intrigue yet repulse. It's rather different when you're sitting there thinking that Christine and the Phantom would make a cute couple!"

imposter!

Tonight I walked down to the computer lab, past numerous "This area restricted to [my all-female dorm here] residents only!" and into the lab, where I made a beeline for my [now] favourite computer. I always glance around at my comrades, and this time, I did a double-take, for the one in the corner was sporting a buzz-cut and chin stubble. What's THAT RESIDENT'S room number?

tidbits

• I hike down 45 stairs and 10 landings whenever I want to use the computer lab
• We were blanketed with just about a foot of snow over the past 24 hours
• My Dutch name: Marieke
• My Terribly British Name: Amelia Wilson
• My Amish Name: Madam Prudence Weston, the blacksmith's wife (I think someone has Amish and the Pilgrims mixed up)
• My 70's Undercover Narc Agent Name: Dirk "The Dragon" Cappielo
• My Hippie Name: Ocean Blossom
• My Harry Potter Name: Angelina
• The skin on the back of my left hand is still discoloured from the IV when I was in hospital with MONO!

name generator located at rumandmonkey.com

Adventures in the life of a transfer student (!)

I was in the kitchen at home when the phone rang. I picked it up, the cordless beauty, and looked at the screen to check the caller id (a recent development in our household) -- "Johnny Depp." As I was staring at it, the phone rang once more, then stopped abruptly, as though he had just realized he had dialed a wrong number, and so hung up quickly. Now, come on. Johnny Depp, calling my house? That wasn't a mistake. So, I scrolled through the list on the phone and called him right back -- because I AM NOT A MISTAKE! The second he answered, my vision was suddenly split-screen, the way it is in the movies when two people are on the phone, and I could see him -- in all his cream-coloured linen suited glory -- lounging in a chair, so glad to hear from me. SEE? I KNEW I wasn't a mistake. While we were conversing, I realized that I was talking with an accent, and that I sounded remarkably like Sarah Ferguson ("Fergie") (oh, Johnny, Dahling!). After awhile, Johnny Depp (reluctantly) had to go. He conveyed to me his deep anguish at having to end our conversation, and left me with an "Love you, honey," to which my well-bred sounding voice responded, "Love you too, sweetie!"

****

I'm sitting in a computer lab in Old Main, looking through the beautiful windows at the snowflakes playing against the brick of the building outside. It is so beautiful here; beautiful and freezing cold. I knew it was stupid, moving another 100+ miles north in the middle of January.

I moved into the dorm yesterday, yesterday afternoon. It's amazing how quickly I tire, afflicted as I am with this stupid mono thing -- also, I'm not supposed to lift anything, run, or play any contact sports -- so after two trips up the three flights of stairs with some stuff, mom and dad had me stay in the room while they trudged back down to get more of my belongings. They stayed long enough to rearrange some of the furniture and make the bed (it included lifting the mattress, heh), then took me out for a quick lunch at Burger King (about twice a year, I get a craving for a Whopper Jr., no onions, easy on the mayo), then dropped me off back at my car and left at 2:20. I had a student orientation from 3-8, so I had enough time before that to go get my student id made (that was an experience and a half, which included several trips from the student center back to my dorm room and back) -- it turned out okay (just slightly cross-eyed; ever since I've gotten mono, my eyes twitch randomly, and one of the twitches was just as she took the photo).

At two-fifty, I trudged along the snowy/icy, whoa! icy! sidewalk (for a city that is used to getting a lot of snow, they are horrible at clearing it away, plowing it off the roads and sidewalks -- and there is no trace of salt on the icy campus sidewalks either) to the building the orientation was in. After fifteen minutes of searching in vainthrough the quiet, too-quiet, building for Room 2440, I slumped (despondently) into a chair in the fine arts center basement. I pulled the New Student Orientation! envelope out of my pocket and double-checked the letter -- oh. Health center. Not fine arts center (another thing about mono -- my short-term memory has gotten really patchy. When I was in WalMart the other day, I had to keep my list in front of my eyes the entire time, or I would wander aimlessly through the aisles, having no clue what I was looking for. And the list was only seven items long). I'd even looked at the letter, stared at the "HEALTH AND WELLNESS CENTER, ROOM 2440" heading as I was on my way to the fine arts center. By that point, I was exhausted, and six minutes late for the Orientation. I hate being late, and there were so many other things stressing me out (tuition! books! validate student id!), that I decided not to go to the orientation. I sat there for a minute more, and suddenly could almost hear Mom's voice again; over lunch, she'd leaned over and said, "You know, at that orientation, you're going to meet someone who will be your friend for the rest of the semester." I'd shrugged it off -- same as when Dad says his trademark, "You have lots of friends up there. You just haven't met them yet!" (I know, I know, it's true. It just sounds [I explained this to them, explained why I laugh whenever he says it] way too...Chicken Soup For the _______ Soul-ey). But I couldn't get it out of my head. I gathered up my stuff, shoved my earmuffs and gloves back on, and walked over to the health center. I followed the signs to the orientation, and a woman who I'd met with once last spring, ushered me into the room, pointing out an empty seat about four rows from the front. I folded up my jacket, sneaked over to the chair, and sat down, trying to look like I'd been there for hours and wasn't fifteen minutes late. I felt someone tug on my left sleeve, and turned to see...

...

...

Kristen! A girl from my old college! A person I knew! A person who could be my friend for the rest of the semester! We'd taken a few classes together, and had talked whenever we'd seen each other, but I hadn't seen her much over the past semester, and didn't know she was transferring to this college! Here! Where I am! We talked a lot during dinner/tour/computer lab time, and we're going to be workout buddies. We were checking out schedules in the computer lab, and discovered that we're taking the same health class this semester! The one that meets for an hour every day! We are both so excited -- it was such a relief to see a person I know.

I met my roommate yesterday. I had gone down the hall to the bathroom, and mom and dad were in my room; when I came out of the bathroom, I heard a really LOUD voice, and knew (With Sinking Heart) that it would be my roommate. Yeah. It was. She's LOUD -- really really LOUD, and really quite strange, with the potential to be extremely annoying. But, as I told mom this morning on the phone, my roommate is only going to be on campus tuesday through friday afternoons, which is really really nice; plus, if she is really loud when I'm trying to study, I can just study somewhere else -- I only really have to be in the room when I'm sleeping. But anyway, she left yesterday afternoon, and she won't be back until tuesday.

It's been a lot of fun, arranging my things in my room. I have a loft -- it's a tubular metal frame that's basically like a set of bunkbeds...but without anything on the lower level. My bed is up high, and under that, I have a comfy chair, my squat little table of dark wood that used to belong to my grandparents, and a lamp from my room back home. I sticky-tak-ed a poster of London to the wall, as well as a Renoir, a VanGogh, and my star chart -- and glow in the dark stars up by my bed.

I went grocery shopping today -- I went to the student center for breakfast at 10:30, and found out that they aren't serving anything, anywhere on campus, until Monday -- and picked up some fresh fruit, a loaf of bread, pb, honey, oreos, oatmeal, a Healthy Choice dinner, and then went across to a dollar store and picked up some plastic silverware and microwaveable bowls. After I got back, I arranged it all on a shelf above my desk, and for a minute, had a flashback to what I loved to do when I was little -- play house. I used to love playing house, and I realized, that's what it feels like I've been doing for the past day, as I putz around my room and tweak the quilt so it hangs evenly, adjust the poster a few centimeters to the left so it's exactly in the middle, shift my groceries around on the shelf until they're where I think they should be (except for my Healthy Choice Chicken and Mashed Potatoes, which is [are? they're packaged together, so it's collective, right?] snuggled in between the (closed) window and screen.

I took a nap this afternoon, John Mayer's first album crooning in my ears. He didn't keep me awake, but "like a cowboy clichÉ" floated around in my dreams (which weren't as exciting as the one last night, wherein Johnny Depp and I were INVOLVED. In a PHONE CONVERSATION. now THAT was a classy dream).

****

Phantom of the Opera comes out today!

****

(how many times can I refer to my MONO in this post?)