Category Archives: In reality, I’m six.

Hey, I didn’t throw up!

Jason and I went to Adventureland Six Flags on Saturday. We managed to ride all the rides, and neither of us got sunburn or nauseous. We didn’t go into the water park, so I can’t critique the new addition. I can tell you that I love roller coasters. And Jason kind of. He’s fun to go to the amusement park with.

Tonight is the Quimby’s librarical thingie. I’m looking forward to it, although I am not looking forward to driving during rush hour again. This morning was just a tad of a hellride. Plus there’s an air pollution action day, and I feel guilty driving my car for three hours.

On the upside, I just have to drudge through the next five days, and then I’ll be on 17 days of glorious vacation of some sort or another. First, chilling in Michigan with 106 of my closest Grinnellian classmates friends, then off to NYC to begin a roadtrip that will read like a Family Circus cartoon, ultimately ending in Austin, TX.

Family Circus cartoon

p.s. Check out the bottom of the page. I am part of sciency history.

My Memorial Day Weekend

There is nothing quite like sitting around a back yarn yard with ten of your closest, sitting on lawn chairs, hearing about Tim’s stepfather’s new suit of armor. There is also nothing like your best friend showing up on your doorstep at 7 a.m. because The Schnoz’s Greyhound from Iowa City was FULL, and she ended up driving him to Chicago so he could make his flight to France.

And then finding out that although they made it in time for the flight, they went to O’Hare, and the flight was from Midway. The point is that she was here, and I got to hang out and rip open Quimby’s Bag ‘O Mag with her whilst lying about Wicker Park. That’s the point.

And there’s nothing like your little sister calling you at 2 a.m. for advice.

And there’s nothing like a bit of sunburn.

And there’s nothing like finding a perfect read-a-style gift for a friend who has no idea that they’ll be getting a present before the week is out.

Also nothing like the onset of an Infinite Jest read-a-long. Not that that’s happening this month or anything…

Get up, eat breakfast

It’s 8:45 a.m. and I’m eating a big bowl full of rice crispies, grape nuts, and banana slices.

I turned on the tv, and what do I get to bless my eyes as I’m eating my delicious trifecta?

Made. Jayzus. I might as well be watching Showgirls. Much like hard liquor, there are just some things that are easier to stomach after noon.

Seatbelt, shmeatbelt.

Hey all. I managed to crash the server that is the cozy home to, Jake’s blog, and my own dear spot. It was awful. Friday went waaaay slower than usual. Plus it was beautiful outside, and I was stuck here until AFTER 5. Travesty.

After work I changed into what I consider to be a very cute outfit, complete with low pigtails and a Mets cap, and met up with the Angela.* As I was driving, windows down, radio up – Q101 surprised me by playing just the right song. All of a sudden, I’m hearing the into to The Impression that I Get by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Now, a catchy upbeat song like that is exactly what a girl needs driving in the sunshine on a Friday afternoon, but this particular song (and the whole album) have a special place in my heart – reminding me of the dubbed tape that sat in the outside tape player that my sister and I would listen to over and over as we rollerskated on the tiny patch of concrete driveway. Tiny circles to the left … Ah. So I dug the album out, and listened to it all weekend. Very pleasant.

If you saw me this weekend (and none of you did) you’d think I’d started grad school already. I went to the library on Saturday and checked out every knitting reference book they had. I’m not kidding. There is a splay of books in front of my couch, and I finally know how to make an invisible increase.

You’d think I’d know this stuff, but I never really paid attention – as long as the mitten worked, I didn’t care if there were bar increases. Now, NOW I have to care. On the upside, I’ll be able to kill you with knitting, as I will be a KNITTING MASTER.

I think my swatch yarn will get here between this Friday and next Friday, and in the meantime, I’ve been fooling around with acrylic, just faking the swatches to see if I know what I’m doing. Chomping at the bit.

*Hey – Anglea is almost at her goal for the Avon Breast Cancer walk, which is astounding considering she didn’t start fundraising until the last minute. Props and dormers for Kat and Jake for donating monies. For the rest of you – it’s not toooo laaaaate!

Aren’t you the cutest …

One of the sites I keep my eye on is They feature artists with examples of their work. It sounds simple and arty, but it tends to lean on the side of comic books and contemporary PoMo.

And that’s how I learned about Little India, the book written by Pixar Studio animator Sanjay Patel. The book is a children’s guide to Hindu mythology, but ubercute. I mean, uber. It’s cuter than Hello Kitty. Ganesh, from "Little India"

It’s self published, and I immediately wanted it. It’s a under-the-radar, cool, useful children’s book. What’s better than that?

Did I mention that I already have a fairly substantial children’s book collection? Going to grad school for kids lit is the only reason that isn’t a wee bit creepy. I’m a lucky duck.

Giant Shoebox

There’s something about a giant building that makes it more silent when it rains. Maybe it’s because the noise is constant, so it smooths out the other noises. I don’t know. It’s kind of eerie. I’m used to rat-a-tat-tat against glass at the very least. My favorite place to be during a strong rain was always the machine shed. It’s a giant two-story cavernous tin building and even a light rain became a cacophony. Then again, I like exaggeration.

Not unhealthy childhood focus.

I’m finding it strange to get older. I’ve hit the age where I’ve had fully formed thoughts, and completely forgotten them. Much like Shippy, I’ve been coming up with some of these more and more lately. The most recent was shocked back into the frontal lobe by a Boing Boing post about a new Flickr genre – photographs of the contents of a purse, bag, manpurse, etc.

I’ve always really really enjoyed learning what was in other people’s wallets and purses. When I was a girl, I thought it was interesting what other little girls thought they needed to put in their little girl purses. I think I went through a brief purse phase (it was stone washed denim) but it was brief. Up until AmeriCorps, I never carried a purse, and the only reason why I did after AmeriCorps was because my roommate, Hottie Katie, gave me the one she had that I happened to like.

I also found it fascinating that although a wallet is supposed to be a succinct version of a purse, they often have just as much crap in them. Random things written down on paper are just as good as finding a small hammer or packet of McDonald’s maple syrup in a purse.

So, I’m excited about this Flickr page, and will take more pleasure out of it than the average bear.