quote of the day...

"The human body is an expressive thing. That's why we keep looking at all these naked people again and again."
-- Professor Courtright, Art History 01

...at the unofficial school website.

but you know, it is. i'm going to stop myself here before any philosophical babble of which i could be ashamed tomorrow comes out, but--yeah.

pavlov, meet daddy. daddy, meet pavlov. housemates, please stop making messes...

from about seventh grade until last summer after my freshman year of college, my bedroom was immediately off of the kitchen. there was actually an adjoining door, wedged shut with a bookcase full of my mom's cookbook collection and a nice collection of handmade ceramics (mine, mom's, and those purchased from southern folk artists mixed) on the kitchen side, and a dresser on mine.

also, she bought me an alarm clock in sixth grade when i went for a week to a gifted kids' camp and had to get a tetanus shot, because i was afraid of needles.

i never learned how to set it. i didn't know last year either. despite how easy it is, i've never had to set an alarm clock.

as long as i can remember my daddy has woken up at 5:30 every morning, and he woke me up by knocking on my door twice or three times until i yelled to answer him. he did this all summer long as well, and when he was gone my mother did it.

my internal clock is tough, though. guinevere33's cd alarm clock trained her so that she'd wake up as the cd spun and dropped into place before the music started; my daddy trained me so i'd wake three to five minutes early to the sound of dishes clinking, doors opening and closing in the kitchen--light spilling under the door. the sound of people moving about in a house at morning--clinks and clicks and footsteps--that says 'you're safe' to me.

it says, 'daddy will be along to wake you any minute, and then you'll get up and stumble into the kitchen half-dressed, blinking, and hug him and hide your face in his shoulder, and he'll say good morning, sweetie and you'll grumble something because he thinks it's cute when you're grumpy, even though you're happy; and he'll offer to make you tea or coffee and you'll mumble or just nod, and you'll sit at your chair sipping tea until you're awake enough to go back to your room and finishe deciding what to wear.'

every few days i wake up with this sense of spreading security, secretly happy, not for no reason, but because my housemates are making breakfast, or speaking to each other, or taking showers, and there are footsteps in the hall and the clicks of light switches.

today could be a good day.

and all was right with the world.

i don't even mind going to work today.

very much.

although class tomorrow--THAT i mind.

GIP

to replace the other of hands--i like this one much better. no particular quote in the words.

oh rat-man-boy!

so one of the undersupervisors in the dining hall is one of those small rat-like men. you know, thin, eerily intent, with a little mustache and a close-trimmed beard, a pointed nose and small deepset black eyes. painfully earnest. small. did i say small?

anyway. he's SUCH A CUTE little rat-man.

my second day he showed me how to sort the silverware. there are knives, spoons, forks, and soup spoons, but it's not that simple because it saves everyone unaccounted trouble if you only nestle the spoons and forks together all facing the same way.

and said peremptorily of a passage to india, 'who is reading this?' and then we had a little discussion about literature, and i explained that i was more into sf, but not hard sf, and listed some favorite authors but he hadn't heard of them. today he was brooding on the floor-mopping while i darted about putting the soup spoons away and he said, 'so you're not into dungeons and dragons or anything like that are you?'

me: 'nope.'

him: 'oh good.'

...

!!! cute little rat-man, you could be a serial killer! you're so strange. and intense! and, like. small! i want to have his little rat babies! --except that i don't want to have babies, but if i did. right. and billy and dom weren't available.

ten foot poles and their ilk

my stevie keeps showing up when i'm in the middle of a fight and i'm all, 'stevie!' only i can't talk right then because, well. busy busy! but so. this is an open notice to steve:

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guinevere33,

in other news, ::FREAKS OUT::

i'm aware this is cryptic. and yes, i have a reason. also, i do occasionally freak out without much of one. and right now i'm tired and i have a reason so leave me alone.

i just opened another chocolate with a fortune in it...

l'amore con l'amore si paga.

l'amour se paie par l'amour.

el amor con amor se paga.

a amor com o amor se paga.

liebe wird mit liebe bezahlt.

~~love is paid for with love.

(no subject)

# i like lying half in a bed and half out of it. for years i had a futon with a frame only a bit (hm, four inches?) off the ground. perfect for sleeping with my dog--he liked to lie at the edge with just his head over the edge, his little nose on the floor and his face upside down, his velvety little ears flipped inside out. (beagle. pictures, uh, later.) the bed here is much higher off the floor, but for some reason having an arm or a leg dangling over the edge comforts me.

# i close my eyes and i get this image of my friend meghan. we were never very close, just same high school clique and all. president of mu alpha theta, secretary of national honor society, bangs and always makeup but you could never tell she was wearing it and a ponytail, rescued by us from preppiness in grade 9. she's got this adorable distracted air and is also very gracious, and, much like my other rl best friend sara munro, good at letting insults to her intelligence pass without seeming to have registered them when really she has. i can see her face winning miss america (although she's more likely to win a nobel), the way her eyes would narrow and her cheeks lift. she would stumble over words in a sort of self-deprecating way because she feels to do otherwise is to force yourself on other people in some fashion.

#the cafeteria is open; i'm going to dinner. i was going to go to cvs, but now i think of it, all the packages i'm making can wait three weeks until my dad brings their partial contents.

HI!

this is very, very happy cim.

XD

in other news, tori's new album is coming out soon and so is christina's, my daddy will be here in two weeks (and i'll get a new chair, lots of food, some silverware, possibly knitting supplies...), i finally caught guinevere33 again, between them nemoricultrix and kwirbx solved all my storage difficulties, and my lilac sweater is really really cute. among other things.

at graduation (high school) there was no hat-tossing allowed on the stage.

i wasn't terribly put out by this, however.