Firefox quit on me after a huge fight with a flashplayer (okay, I admit it, trying to watch copyrighted Disney movies online was probably a dumb thing to do -- but they weren't on youtube anymore!). I'm using Safari now, which is a pain in the ass, but since I've spent the afternoon working with it it seems to have improved somewhat.
Sadface. I miss all my firefoxy options.
That being said, today I didn't have to go to work -- way to win! Apparently there are not enough full time staff to hang out with us due to acute sickness. Also, one of the girls who shares my bathroom has shingles (gross). So glad I've had chicken pox before.
Other than that, I went running, walked to barracks and back (exercise and food all in one!), and did most of my homework. I have class in half an hour ... gross. All I want to do is lie in bed. I was so productive this morning and now I just feel exhausted. Pathetique. I wish I were going to kendo tonight.
I want to go hear the first minister of Scotland speak tomorrow, but it's during my 2pm so I don't know. I don't really do the reading for the class as it is ... I feel like I should be there.
/ motivation. I'm so looking forward to time off from classes ... argh. I wish I could find out about the DMP sooner.
I guess I'll go shop online for horse stuff I can't afford.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
somewhere in a woman's room there is always something, an object, a detail, that is her wholly and unapologetically
Eating and packing tonight, class at 9 am tomorrow, and leaving for Williamsburg right after that. I'll be back Sunday evening, I'm thinking.
Hopefully my poor horse won't be too lonely, and my karate and kendo friends will suffer through the slightly less entertaining atmosphere in the dojo and at the dinner table. It's not that I don't love you all dearly.
But right now, I'm all collapsey of tired.
And to answer the question you are thinking, no, I haven't decided what my object is yet. In looking around I realize I am disgustingly unattached to about 90% of the objects in my room. What I love is the glass - two round white wine classes, half-circle teacups, a spherical pom bottle, my elegant midsize French press. In fact, now that I look around, practically everything else seems to fall aside and I love these delicate, widelipped, rounded, thoroughly ungraceful things. One in particular is saying hello to me; I do believe I will keep it to myself tonight.
listening to: Gilmore Girls, season 7 finale
reading: French Word a Day // Kristin Espinasse
Hopefully my poor horse won't be too lonely, and my karate and kendo friends will suffer through the slightly less entertaining atmosphere in the dojo and at the dinner table. It's not that I don't love you all dearly.
But right now, I'm all collapsey of tired.
And to answer the question you are thinking, no, I haven't decided what my object is yet. In looking around I realize I am disgustingly unattached to about 90% of the objects in my room. What I love is the glass - two round white wine classes, half-circle teacups, a spherical pom bottle, my elegant midsize French press. In fact, now that I look around, practically everything else seems to fall aside and I love these delicate, widelipped, rounded, thoroughly ungraceful things. One in particular is saying hello to me; I do believe I will keep it to myself tonight.
listening to: Gilmore Girls, season 7 finale
reading: French Word a Day // Kristin Espinasse
Monday, March 24, 2008
when we sway i go weak
So, most of the time I'm just a silly college girl, but sometimes I'm seriously cool.
Like: my adviser is irritated with me because I have the status of a second-semester third year ... yes, you read right, that's a year AHEAD. I'm barred from taking any more history classes next semester because if I do, the College will force me to graduate at the end of my third year.
I mean, if I actually *wanted* to graduate a full year early, I'd need to take about seven classes both semesters. I ... don't really feel the need to do that (as sexy as the thought of graduating university at twenty is). What would I do with myself? Become a vagrant for an extra year? But I'm damnably close, apparently.
That being said, of course I'm talking about applying to the history honors program and declaring a second (French) major. But! great news. I'm going to do my best to only take 12 credits (4 classes; the minimum for a full-time undergrad) from here on out. No more of this senseless 15+ credit nonsense! No more staying up until 1 am working when I have class at 8 am the next day! No more trying to read three books at the same time!
Well, probably still *some*, but a hella lot less.
What does this mean for me, realistically? Making every single karate / kendo class without any prior commitments to get in the way. Riding ... at LEAST four days a week, probably five. I might try to groom for someone, a couple days a week? And give lessons. Of course, if I actually get into the DMP, it won't be so exciting as all that. But I should still be able to take a lighter course load.
Speaking of riding (as I so often do), I cantered Pepsi bareback for the first time yesterday. I was terrified in the half-second it took him to transition, even though my seat is technically perfect and my legs are strong. I actually closed my eyes (about as safe as closing your eyes while driving a car) and held my breath because I was *so sure* I was going to hit the ground. When I didn't fall, I opened my eyes and we were on the other side of the ring! I could feel his haunches pushing behind me, sliding me back and forth along his spine, my hips opening like a pair of french doors, but my lower legs miraculously still and quiet. I held onto his mane with one hand, taking both reins in the other, and pressed my knees into the sides of his shoulders. And I laughed as we flew past the gate, my beautiful little horse charging down the ring track and me on his back, white-knuckling the reins and laughing like an idiot. That's where little Andi found us, staggering down to a walk that almost threw me with its suddenness.
Although it might sound like a little thing, it's not. It was the most amazing feeling -- like learning to ride all over again, like falling in love, like being born or giving birth to something amazing that's entirely yours. It's like ... diving from ten meters, feeling your body arch and twist in the air and being terrified that you're about to be in so much pain, but instead you pierce the water at the perfect angle and for a moment you're one and the same. It's a climactic moment, but it's also the beginning of an entirely new thing.
In this case, that thing is riding bareback and similar unofficial equitation arts. There's always been a wall between me and the people at the barn who ride bareback, and now that's gone. Now I have the confidence to get on my horse (mine! squee!) and practice all of these things, to fall off but also to get back on, every time, until one of us gives out or I discover something new.
Like: my adviser is irritated with me because I have the status of a second-semester third year ... yes, you read right, that's a year AHEAD. I'm barred from taking any more history classes next semester because if I do, the College will force me to graduate at the end of my third year.
I mean, if I actually *wanted* to graduate a full year early, I'd need to take about seven classes both semesters. I ... don't really feel the need to do that (as sexy as the thought of graduating university at twenty is). What would I do with myself? Become a vagrant for an extra year? But I'm damnably close, apparently.
That being said, of course I'm talking about applying to the history honors program and declaring a second (French) major. But! great news. I'm going to do my best to only take 12 credits (4 classes; the minimum for a full-time undergrad) from here on out. No more of this senseless 15+ credit nonsense! No more staying up until 1 am working when I have class at 8 am the next day! No more trying to read three books at the same time!
Well, probably still *some*, but a hella lot less.
What does this mean for me, realistically? Making every single karate / kendo class without any prior commitments to get in the way. Riding ... at LEAST four days a week, probably five. I might try to groom for someone, a couple days a week? And give lessons. Of course, if I actually get into the DMP, it won't be so exciting as all that. But I should still be able to take a lighter course load.
Speaking of riding (as I so often do), I cantered Pepsi bareback for the first time yesterday. I was terrified in the half-second it took him to transition, even though my seat is technically perfect and my legs are strong. I actually closed my eyes (about as safe as closing your eyes while driving a car) and held my breath because I was *so sure* I was going to hit the ground. When I didn't fall, I opened my eyes and we were on the other side of the ring! I could feel his haunches pushing behind me, sliding me back and forth along his spine, my hips opening like a pair of french doors, but my lower legs miraculously still and quiet. I held onto his mane with one hand, taking both reins in the other, and pressed my knees into the sides of his shoulders. And I laughed as we flew past the gate, my beautiful little horse charging down the ring track and me on his back, white-knuckling the reins and laughing like an idiot. That's where little Andi found us, staggering down to a walk that almost threw me with its suddenness.
Although it might sound like a little thing, it's not. It was the most amazing feeling -- like learning to ride all over again, like falling in love, like being born or giving birth to something amazing that's entirely yours. It's like ... diving from ten meters, feeling your body arch and twist in the air and being terrified that you're about to be in so much pain, but instead you pierce the water at the perfect angle and for a moment you're one and the same. It's a climactic moment, but it's also the beginning of an entirely new thing.
In this case, that thing is riding bareback and similar unofficial equitation arts. There's always been a wall between me and the people at the barn who ride bareback, and now that's gone. Now I have the confidence to get on my horse (mine! squee!) and practice all of these things, to fall off but also to get back on, every time, until one of us gives out or I discover something new.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
i cannot break this situation
I am apparently incapable of having one solidly good weekend.
Procrastination takes over again. I know I *should* care about the next three mini-chapters of Les Choses but I'm pretty sure that they'll be as boring as the first two. And that whole "second year seminar" thing? I've skimmed Equiano and Carretta's notes on the biography; I couldn't care less about the forum discussions that come later. My paper is due ... three and a half hours ago. I guess I'll submit it tomorrow afternoon? After I've written it, I mean. Pretty good, for a class that has no structure.
Don't even get me started on all the British & Jewish American history that I've earmarked as 1) unessential and 2) boring. I'll probably never catch up on all of that. Moreover, it probably won't matter at all.
Adviser meeting tomorrow afternoon, DMP meeting Tuesday morning, application due Wednesday by four. Riding with little Andi Wednesday afternoon. Jewish History paper and topic statement for English final paper due Thursday. Leaving for Williamsburg on Friday, coming back Sunday. One whole week of life pushed into three sentences.
My lips are chapped and burning, my stomach hurts and I'm hungry, I seem to be falling asleep and the edge of my laptop is digging into my arm.
This all seems ridiculous. I'm going for a walk, to think, to get food, to get away from this fucking miserable evening.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
the critical mass
Good days. Not much sleep, but full days with good conversation and great riding.
I'll fill you in once it's settled down again. Right now I'm putting away laundry / doing chores, and then I'm going to dredge up some half-decent clothes and head downtown for Athens Boys Choir (free!).
reading: DMP application (againnn)
listening to: Friends (in the background)
I'll fill you in once it's settled down again. Right now I'm putting away laundry / doing chores, and then I'm going to dredge up some half-decent clothes and head downtown for Athens Boys Choir (free!).
reading: DMP application (againnn)
listening to: Friends (in the background)
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
sooner or later it comes down to fate
I've thought of a thousand things to say, recently, but haven't actually said any of them. I guess the desire is more momentary than anything else.
Today was fine, I suppose. Nothing special. We're looking for a summer sublet -- I hate how anonymous and random it seems -- living with strangers, really not my thing. I haven't found anything great yet but my mom has a contact who owns a bunch of rentals in the area so maybe that will rustle up something. Sigh.
I'm a little tired of arguing about whether Renee Nare (of La Vagabonde, a Colette novel) is feminist in her decisions. She's a woman alone, and she's had a shitty painter husband (Antoine Taillandy), and if she wants to reinforce her own misery by not marrying Maxime at the end of the novel, so be it. It's not that being alone defines a woman as feminist or antifeminist, it's that she establishes her ability to choose the lifestyle that she thinks is best. Even if it sort of sucks. Such is French romance.
Moving on -- I went shopping to forget the stress of housing, and then I went running to forget the stress of shopping. I don't know what to say about that. Not to be pessimistic, but I'm awkwardly in between clothing sizes and I don't appreciate it. If I'm not going to fit into my riding jeans from last summer, I need to establish that now so I can go buy ones that fit -- but the next size is too big, and I know it will be worse once they wear in and stretch out. Or, I need to get my butt in gear and fit back into those jeans. That might be better, since I really can't afford a whole new riding wardrobe. Sigh.
That was remarkably deadpan of me. Aren't you proud?
come on Virginia, show me a sign
send up a signal, i'll throw you a line
the stained glass curtain you're hiding behind
never lets in the sun
i tell you only the good die young
reading: DMP application (arrrgh)
listening to: name // the goo goo dolls
Today was fine, I suppose. Nothing special. We're looking for a summer sublet -- I hate how anonymous and random it seems -- living with strangers, really not my thing. I haven't found anything great yet but my mom has a contact who owns a bunch of rentals in the area so maybe that will rustle up something. Sigh.
I'm a little tired of arguing about whether Renee Nare (of La Vagabonde, a Colette novel) is feminist in her decisions. She's a woman alone, and she's had a shitty painter husband (Antoine Taillandy), and if she wants to reinforce her own misery by not marrying Maxime at the end of the novel, so be it. It's not that being alone defines a woman as feminist or antifeminist, it's that she establishes her ability to choose the lifestyle that she thinks is best. Even if it sort of sucks. Such is French romance.
Moving on -- I went shopping to forget the stress of housing, and then I went running to forget the stress of shopping. I don't know what to say about that. Not to be pessimistic, but I'm awkwardly in between clothing sizes and I don't appreciate it. If I'm not going to fit into my riding jeans from last summer, I need to establish that now so I can go buy ones that fit -- but the next size is too big, and I know it will be worse once they wear in and stretch out. Or, I need to get my butt in gear and fit back into those jeans. That might be better, since I really can't afford a whole new riding wardrobe. Sigh.
That was remarkably deadpan of me. Aren't you proud?
come on Virginia, show me a sign
send up a signal, i'll throw you a line
the stained glass curtain you're hiding behind
never lets in the sun
i tell you only the good die young
reading: DMP application (arrrgh)
listening to: name // the goo goo dolls
Sunday, March 16, 2008
just because they're decorative doesn't mean they're not sharp
Feeling wonderfully caffeine - crash at the moment.
I finished studying for the British History midterm (which, incidentally, I'm going to beat into submission rather handily). So that's pretty nice. I also got an email from my French professor, telling me that I got an A on my presentation. Good stuff.
Concerns *do* include the fact that I have 200 pages to read and a response to write for tomorrow afternoon, and a two-hour movie to watch in less than two hours. Interesting, ja?
My hair is finally long enough to twist into a figure-eight, which is the first step to the day when I say "this is too long, time to cut it off again." That will be -- the end of the summer, I think. August? September?
God, I'll be turning twenty in the fall. I don't feel like I've come through two whole decades of life. Maybe I'll do a year-by-year recap later on.
I studied in the MacGregor room today, which *always* makes me feel better about school. It's just such a nice place to work -- dim chandeliers accompanied by task lighting, wide tables that you can really spread your books across, poofy armchairs, and mahogany floor-to-ceiling bookcases. I mostly go there to hibernate and study for midterm / finals that are in extensive essay form, so for me I associate the place with Buddhism exams, Environmental History research papers, Western Civ reading response tests, and now British History midterms.
I don't know what else to say. I'm so invested in riding right now. Little Andi mentioned that someone she knows is looking for extra people to come up to Culpeper and help their horses learn how to trail ride at all four gaits (walk, trot, canter, and gallop -- slow, jogging, running, and sprinting, for you non-horse people) over the summer. I told her I'd love to do it, I mean, provided the horses aren't insane. I told her to ask around about a grooming job for me.
We took Pepsi and Coco out for a gallop across the boys' field today. My horse can *move*. Speaking of which. News of the ownership transfer (from Jessica to me) has started to spread around the barn, and I really wasn't expecting the reactions I've been getting. I mean, a polite congratulations is one thing, but multiple hugs? Impromptu equitation and tack etiquette lessons? I always get a little embarassed when people at the barn tell me how talented, devoted, impressive, etc. I am. I mean, it's nice to be among people who appreciate your passions, but I don't ride because I feel like an immensely talented person who deigns to get on her horse once in awhile. I would rather that people compliment Pepsi, because he's such an accomplished little horse and he's tolerated so much crazy, silly experimentation from me. I ride because he lets me, and because I can.
aaaanyway. Moving on mildly. It's too hot in my room (as always) and I am getting all yawny and not-working. I think it's time to lie down and plan how I'll get a plurality of things done tomorrow.
I finished studying for the British History midterm (which, incidentally, I'm going to beat into submission rather handily). So that's pretty nice. I also got an email from my French professor, telling me that I got an A on my presentation. Good stuff.
Concerns *do* include the fact that I have 200 pages to read and a response to write for tomorrow afternoon, and a two-hour movie to watch in less than two hours. Interesting, ja?
My hair is finally long enough to twist into a figure-eight, which is the first step to the day when I say "this is too long, time to cut it off again." That will be -- the end of the summer, I think. August? September?
God, I'll be turning twenty in the fall. I don't feel like I've come through two whole decades of life. Maybe I'll do a year-by-year recap later on.
I studied in the MacGregor room today, which *always* makes me feel better about school. It's just such a nice place to work -- dim chandeliers accompanied by task lighting, wide tables that you can really spread your books across, poofy armchairs, and mahogany floor-to-ceiling bookcases. I mostly go there to hibernate and study for midterm / finals that are in extensive essay form, so for me I associate the place with Buddhism exams, Environmental History research papers, Western Civ reading response tests, and now British History midterms.
I don't know what else to say. I'm so invested in riding right now. Little Andi mentioned that someone she knows is looking for extra people to come up to Culpeper and help their horses learn how to trail ride at all four gaits (walk, trot, canter, and gallop -- slow, jogging, running, and sprinting, for you non-horse people) over the summer. I told her I'd love to do it, I mean, provided the horses aren't insane. I told her to ask around about a grooming job for me.
We took Pepsi and Coco out for a gallop across the boys' field today. My horse can *move*. Speaking of which. News of the ownership transfer (from Jessica to me) has started to spread around the barn, and I really wasn't expecting the reactions I've been getting. I mean, a polite congratulations is one thing, but multiple hugs? Impromptu equitation and tack etiquette lessons? I always get a little embarassed when people at the barn tell me how talented, devoted, impressive, etc. I am. I mean, it's nice to be among people who appreciate your passions, but I don't ride because I feel like an immensely talented person who deigns to get on her horse once in awhile. I would rather that people compliment Pepsi, because he's such an accomplished little horse and he's tolerated so much crazy, silly experimentation from me. I ride because he lets me, and because I can.
aaaanyway. Moving on mildly. It's too hot in my room (as always) and I am getting all yawny and not-working. I think it's time to lie down and plan how I'll get a plurality of things done tomorrow.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
a spring saturday
Hmm, good things this weekend. I was at the barn for seven hours today (a record?).
First Pepsi got his feet trimmed, then I helped with maneuvering the baby (Lucky Charm) and his parents for their trimmings. Then I rode for an hour while the next four horses were trimmed. Tommy and I got Fancy into the washrack and trimmed her front feet, and then I had a short lesson with Jan and Donna. Then we went on a trail ride, along with Jay and Andi's lesson person (Brianna). That was crazy and fun -- Andi and I rode double on Pepsi for the hills and stream crossings.
Riding double is a personal favorite of mine. You actually need to be a pretty good rider to stay on in the back, because the rocking motion is so much stronger on the haunches. But the front rider needs to do all the normal control things (legs on, hands guiding on the reins) and tell the horse not to worry about the extra weight. I was surprised that Pepsi took it so well, when I gave Andi a leg up and she hopped right across the width of his back, and also when she slid off his haunches later.
I'm glad he can handle that, though. It's silly and warm and comfortable and I love it.
After that, I bought my first piece of tack -- a bridle (with reins and bit). It's beautiful double-stitched dark leather, with a padded noseband and light wrappings on the reins. It's not the fanciest thing, but it's the best piece of tack in the whole world to me.
First Pepsi got his feet trimmed, then I helped with maneuvering the baby (Lucky Charm) and his parents for their trimmings. Then I rode for an hour while the next four horses were trimmed. Tommy and I got Fancy into the washrack and trimmed her front feet, and then I had a short lesson with Jan and Donna. Then we went on a trail ride, along with Jay and Andi's lesson person (Brianna). That was crazy and fun -- Andi and I rode double on Pepsi for the hills and stream crossings.
Riding double is a personal favorite of mine. You actually need to be a pretty good rider to stay on in the back, because the rocking motion is so much stronger on the haunches. But the front rider needs to do all the normal control things (legs on, hands guiding on the reins) and tell the horse not to worry about the extra weight. I was surprised that Pepsi took it so well, when I gave Andi a leg up and she hopped right across the width of his back, and also when she slid off his haunches later.
I'm glad he can handle that, though. It's silly and warm and comfortable and I love it.
After that, I bought my first piece of tack -- a bridle (with reins and bit). It's beautiful double-stitched dark leather, with a padded noseband and light wrappings on the reins. It's not the fanciest thing, but it's the best piece of tack in the whole world to me.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
sugar spell it out like oh, oh
This semester has less and less push behind it. I'm looking forward to maybe taking the minimum number of credits next semester ... that would be such an improvement. Sometimes I can't wait to get out of here.
Today, I went running, and since I couldn't make up my mind on where to go, I ended up running all the way out to Hereford. I set my toes in and sprinted up that long, steep hill that I used to climb every single day. It was so pretty in the late afternoon sunlight, with lots of people outside playing soccer and a boy playing guitar on the hammock, just like there was last year. I stood outside my old window (third floor, midway up the Hill) and looked at it, missing my view, missing having my totally secluded space.
Don't get me wrong, I love my location and my bathroom-mates now, but I miss being able to come home to a place that was quiet and elevated and removed from the wild pace of things here, in the heart of everything.
Additionally, I have a new poet who suits me: Mary Oliver. Born in 1935, specializes in observing the natural world and capturing it mid-motion, has lived as a lesbian in Provincetown for more than forty years.
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
It's intense, anyway. But it's an intensity I like.
I finally have a little bit of spare money (I think). I want hemp rainbows for the summer, and a book of Mary Oliver, and some really good iced tea.
reading: othello
listening to: tegan and sara
Today, I went running, and since I couldn't make up my mind on where to go, I ended up running all the way out to Hereford. I set my toes in and sprinted up that long, steep hill that I used to climb every single day. It was so pretty in the late afternoon sunlight, with lots of people outside playing soccer and a boy playing guitar on the hammock, just like there was last year. I stood outside my old window (third floor, midway up the Hill) and looked at it, missing my view, missing having my totally secluded space.
Don't get me wrong, I love my location and my bathroom-mates now, but I miss being able to come home to a place that was quiet and elevated and removed from the wild pace of things here, in the heart of everything.
Additionally, I have a new poet who suits me: Mary Oliver. Born in 1935, specializes in observing the natural world and capturing it mid-motion, has lived as a lesbian in Provincetown for more than forty years.
tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
It's intense, anyway. But it's an intensity I like.
I finally have a little bit of spare money (I think). I want hemp rainbows for the summer, and a book of Mary Oliver, and some really good iced tea.
reading: othello
listening to: tegan and sara
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