On the Matter of Food and Shelves

To begin:

Food! How I adore thee!
Mellow sauce, and tempting leek!
Thy savor has no bounds to see
what once it was, when raw, and meek.

Now flavor cascades from thee!
Herbs and meat, ground with care!
The spiciest among you will be,
later, burning my derrière.



Ahh! Is it aliens! Is it some horror, forgotten through time's cruel progress? Could it be some manifestation of Cthulu himself???

Oh. It's artistic pictures of blackberries.

These are the beginnings of shelves. I would like to point out, at this juncture, that not only do I have no idea what I'm doing, but that I like to start every project with the firm belief that failure is just around the corner.

'Zounds! They grow higher, these shelf-y delights!
Soon we'll have books reaching heretofore unbeknownst heights!
Yes, the meter is shot. But how often do I get heretofore and unbeknownst together?)

Thy fine and supple extremity
To which though hast applied
Not only to my drawn-wide eye
But to my heart, it glides.

Check out the good form with the power tool! And the poem is about my leg... not my bunion... don't look at it...

(yes, every bit of poetry today will be terrible. if any of you commented on the things you liked, this wouldn't happen.)

Look! Complete! It stands so tall
As if, brave, it proclaims itself
To be the mightest of them all
Whether wood, or steel, or stone, a shelf!

This is a peeling tree. I think it has some kind of disease, perhaps it is infested with the oak boring weasel. No, but really, as we drove we saw posters about some kind of weevil that is killing off oak trees. It's actually less of a weevil and more like a borer. Either way, the bark was peeling and blowing off, leaving really, really smooth tree branches.

It felt really weird.

More artsy pictures, courtesy of you-know-who. No, not me. The other who. Not Doctor Who, no. I think this is beautiful.
Before you judge, and cast aside
The worthiness before you, oaf.
Attempt to consider the beauty found hither,
The gloriously rotund meatloaf.

Courtesy of The Joy of Cooking.

Graduate School Update

Now, you think this is something about University of Washington, but it isn't. Sure, I could go of on how this, my chosen place where I will mature academically and be involved in fine research, is known to the locals as "U-Dub". I could write about how, because our mascot is the Husky, students are referred to as "Dawgs". I could even stretch it a bit and say that the local "Irish" pub is so overrun with frats that they no longer have fiddle players come it (though several accounts say they used to), or that they've ever heard of a bodhran.

No, today's stunning achievement, made by the University of Minnesota, eclipses them all.
When I was applying to grad school, I attempted to gain admission to five schools. Obviously "U-Dub" accepted me with open arms and showers of money. Those of you "in the know" are aware The Ohio State U did the same. But they're in Cleveland, for goshsakes.

Northwestern did try to woo me, a little, but with a base price of 5 hojillian dollars just to walk on to their campus, I decided against it. Besides, they get you out in a year, which doesn't leave a lot of time for screwing up, and I'm sure that'll happen at least once.

University of Toronto flat out refused me. I got the wrenchingly thin envelope in the mail too soon, and my dreams of being cold all the time were ruined. On a similar note, when I was first investigating schools, McGill University in Montreal never even wrote me back. Canada, be forewarned, do not arouse my ire, it will go poorly for you.

Wait, was that five schools? No? Oh, right. The University of Minnesota. I waited. And waited. And finally decided that they are either a)jerks who lose applications, b)jerks who don't bother to tell you you've been rejected, or c)jerky jerks.

It turns out it's just "c".

The picture is a screen shot taken of the webpage which I received the link to last night. Notice the date on the upper left hand side, and the date their fall semester starts.

Since then, I've made a number of new banners for their stationary. I hope they use them. (You're going to have to click on them. It's ok, they'll open in a new window. Because you don't want to leave this page. You never want to leave this page...)

Recounting the trip...

....through Venn Diagrams! They're kinda crappy, so feel free to click on the pictures if you can't read the text. Or don't read them, because they're crappy. Ok! So, this first one, it has nothing to do with the trip. I just really like pie. The next diagram relates directly to one of the last "legs" of our trip. It's up to you to find out which!
And finally, in part courtesy of Alan, my favorite.

On Reccomendations and Traveling

First, I want to apologize for my previous post. If you've read it, you know why. if you haven't well, sorry anyway.

In a brief look back at our trip, Cat and I made a list of sorts. So, here we go!


1. Make reservations early. (Especially when there's both a rodeo and a biker convention occupying the whole state you're traveling through.)

2. Do research about future rodeos and/or possible biker conventions before you go. (See previous comment.)

3. If you have a chance to have frozen custard, have it. You may never have that chance again. (Cat denied me my one chance, and now I'm going to make her drive back to Wisconsin to get it for me.)

4. Don't start a 60 mile trip over the mountains with only an eighth of a tank of gas. (And, if you do, don't drive 28 mile before realizing you'd better turn around.)

5. If a hotel offers you a suite with a private whirlpool for just 20 dollars more, take it. ('Nuff said!)

6. Continental breakfast simply means a bread product and some kind of liquid. This could mean crappy danishes and Sunny Delight.

7. South Dakota is a cooler state than you'd ever think. (And I'm going back!)

8. Michael learned the connection between the word Montana and mountains. (Shut up.)

9. Somewhere in Washington state, there is a Thor Street, and that is awesome. (Yet another good reason to live here.)

10. Always have the camera ready. Taking pictures of state signs is harder than you'd imagine. (For Catherine...)

11. Sometimes you accidentally kill things like small rabbits and butterflies. (With your car, not, like, I'm stalking and killing things.)

(Yet.)

12. Casinos are everywhere! (Well, except Massachusetts. For now...)

13. We have seen motel/storage space/casino, laundromat/casino, laundromat/espresso bar, fast food/casino/bar/liquor store, gas station/post office/grocery store. (No part of this list is a lie, which is why I'm never returning to Montana.)

14. There is such a thing as a Testicle Festival, and we're sorry we didn't go. (We're not all sorry. Which is also why I'm never returning to Montana.)

15. Not everyone in the Midwest is friendly, especially when you look like a dirty hippie. (Stupid AAA lady...)

16. AAA tour books are pretty great. (grumble grumble...)

17. Fillet Mignon is amazing!

18.You shouldn't keep score in a relationship, but Michael has rubbed Catherine's neck way more than she's rubbed his. (That's because my arms are shorter and I have tricky thumbs.)

19. Every place is beautiful in its own way.

Week in review

I'd like to say that since I've come to Seattle I've had many adventures. I'd like to say I haven't spent all my time shelving books, meeting with university people, and reading, and mopping. I'd like to give a reason why I haven't been blogging like a good blogger should, so that you'd excuse my absence and shower my with love and gifts.

I'd like to say that, so I will.

Oh, where to begin?

So, I'm just sitting there, right? And Catherine, she says to me, “I want you to go buy some peaches.” Just like that, “some peaches.” I tell ya. So, like I know any better, I say to her, “What, you got some bowel trouble or something?” Then Wham!!! Now I gotta buy peaches and replace the apple she broke on my head.

Like I got nothing better to do. Sheesh.

So I head down to Safeway, right? I mean, it's the closest place, and I don't need to go all that way to the guy who sells produce out the back of his van. Makes me nervous, that guy. Like, if this is your job, why are you in a van? But anyway, I head to the Safeway, and I buy the peaches. And an apple, don't even tell me about it.

So I'm paying for the fruits, and, I don't know, walking out, when these four guys in masks come in. With guns. I know, you're thinking, “Why the heck would they come to a Safeway?” That's what I was thinking. So they mug some guys, and open some registers, and run around the back or something, and whatever. My mom always says I look like a bum, and I guess it helps, 'cause they don't even talk to me. Except on the way out, this one guy, short kinda fella, I guess he didn't have nobody else to boss around, being short, so he takes my peaches.

Well, damn (pardon my french) if I'm gonna be ok with that.

So I run out, and you know, there's this town car flying out of the parking lot, and it cuts off this city bus. Lights flash, tempers flare, but no one's really hurt, right? Only I run to the street, and the next stop is way too far away. I mean, I'm no jogger, and that town car is headin' up the hill on 45th as fast as traffic will let it go, which isn't too fast. People being very conscientious drivers in these parts. Some of them, anyway.

So, what am I thinking, nothing, right, except I want my da-, excuse, my peaches. So I'm not even thinking as I jump on the back of the bus and hold on for dear life. Just outta the movies, right? Except Bruce Willis never has a cop right behind him. Lights flash. Sirens shriek. Tempers, well, you know. What I hadn't noticed, and neither did the cop, was that another damn (sorry) town car (was there a special on these things or what?) was flying outta the other Safeway entrance. I take my eyes off the cop, look in, and darn it all, there's shorty, eating my peaches!

What a predicament.

So these grocery gangsters (I made that up myself) see the lights, hear the sirens, and figure the cop is there for them, not seeing me as I hafta jump back off the bus (my knees'll never be the same), and they start shootin'. I'd like to say I rushed in, distracted them while the cop pulled off some shots or something, but I'm no hero. I just want my peaches. So the cop stops, they pull out, our city's finest starts to follow (guess he's ok), and I'm thinking “Great, now how do I follow them?”

When the Express rolls by.

Only it's not stopping here like the other one did, so my jump this time was, well, I don't like the word acrobatic, if you know what I mean, but let's just say Mr. Willis would be proud. Maybe that's how all those guys do it, just concentrate on something else. Maybe not peaches, but to each his own, right.

So I'm clinging like heck to the back of this bus, trying get as far away from the asphalt as I can, because it even looks painful at this speed, and trying to poke my head around the corner to see where the little peach-thief is going, and wouldn't you know, they take a left on to Montlake. The express stays on 45th.

Sheesh.

Robbers, left. Cop, left. Me? I'm thinking fruits, and that leads me to one place, right onta the roof of a passing Miata. The driver hears a thump and swerves a bit, and let me tell you, that's no picnic. I've got my fingernails dug into whatever groove I can find between the roof and the windshield, my knuckles white, my heart racing and, hey, I don't know what else. Let's say I'm glad I didn't have that glass of water before leaving the house. The Miata didn't slow down, and thinking back, I have to wonder what the guy was thinking? Maybe, “How the heck do I get this bozo offa my car?” Maybe. The bad guys screw up as they take a right into the University, cause the roads are thin, windy, uphill, and full of coeds. At least, that's what the yells and screams sound like. Big blue follows, and Miata must have an appointment with an academic type, 'cause he's heading up that was too. A coupla bangs, and crash, and the town car is going off the road and down the hill, into the trails through the gardens. On it's roof, like.

I jump off the Miata, good thing, he's stopping at the gate to pay a toll, and I don't have much change left, and run down as fast as I can. Ok, the hill is a little steep. Ok, I fall down. I told you, I'm no action guy. The bad guys look hurt, you know, the officer looks like he knows he's getting a promotion, but I count heads, and one-two-three-hey where's shorty?

Running through the bushes, by the sound of it.

I crash off that way, I hit some blackberry bushes, and, if you're not from around here, we got them everywhere, but what you might not know is that what you look at is the berries but what you feel are all the darn prickers. That little guy is gonna owe me, and I get out just ahead of him, and he's still holding my peaches! What's with this guy, huh? Though I guess I'm lucky, 'cause if the cops got them they'd be evidence, and by the time I see them, they'll probably look like everything else that's left out for more than 30 minutes around here. That means mold, in case you didn't know it.

Shorty gets all tough, “Get outta my way!” But I want my peaches, and I tell him so. He takes out a knife, and I'm like, I gotta deal with this? But I've already had one apple broken on me, and I can at least hit shorty back. Shorty swings his knife, but stubby arms are no good for this, and I step in and belt him one on the jaw. That's it. No big fight, no bad kung-fu moves. Shorty's a one-punch kinda guy. And I'm glad. I grab my peaches (what's left of them, anyway), and head towards the road. Of course, I'm outta bus fare, and so I gotta walk home.

I thought about calling you-know-who for a pick-me-up, but, yeah right, we know that ain't gonna happen.

So I get home to the tune of “How long does it take to get peaches?” No thanks, no nothin'. I mean, show a little, whaddaya say, gratitude, huh?

And anyway, from now on, I go to the guy in the van. I mean, it's a longer walk, but I figure it'll be my, whaddaya call it, constitutional. Ya gotta watch your health, right? I wish it didn't take so long, though.

Like I got nothin' better to do. Sheesh.

jobby job

So my job officially started on Monday of this week. My summer is over, and really it hardly begun. Oh well. This week I've been immersed in a math workshop in the theme of Harry Plopper, I mean Potter. Now, I read maybe 100 pages of the first book and just couldn't go on. It's really not my thing. But with this workshop we worked in "houses", mine being The House of Venn, and wore capes everyday. Sometimes hats too! All of our daily "math vitamins" were in the theme as well... such as Wandmaking 101. I enjoyed it a lot.

Before this workshop I was really nervous about how this job would be. I was concerned about fitting in in a totally new environment, worried that I would find out once and for all that teaching isn't what I want to be doing. But now I'm so excited. I think this is a place where I'll be able to share my ideas, and they will be heard. I think I will learn so much from very talented people. If this workshop is any indication of how the year will be, it should be amazing! Fingers crossed.

the big mess, aka our home...

here it is! i know this post is a bit belated. sorry for that. we think we will still be using this blog to keep all of you, our adoring fans, updated and entertained.


This is how everyone in Seattle dresses.



















I don't know why Catherine insisted I put this...on....my....

This is Michael at his finest. He got a haircut today and his beard is all trimmed up as well. Please note the shower curtain in the background: a map of the world. Although my vote was for the dancing penguins or the tastefut stripes, I have already learned a lot.







This is what the second bedroom looks like. Please notice the crushed Tupperware bins in which we packed the majority of our things. I believe only one arrived uncrushed. Quite unfortunate, although we haven't found a lot of broken stuff. Then again, we haven't really unpacked much either.






This is our new washer and dryer!!! They are hooked up right in our bathroom closet!! We got them on Craigslist, and tried to get a mover from there as well. The guy agreed, but did not pick up his phone on the day of the move and never showed up. We ended up paying a real company to come out last minute at a price of about 4 times more. Oh well. We still got a good deal on the appliances.










Here is our bedroom. I worked on it a bit yesterday and it looks better now. Still not great, though.















And, here's the living room. More crushed totes, piles of things, and crocodile dentist.






Another view of the living room, looking into the kitchen. Stuff is really all over the place right now. It really hasn't moved much. It'll be quite the project.










In conclusion, a haiku:



home, nice and spacious


like a big, fat burrito


filled with lots of crap.

We made it... (several days ago)

On the last day we had only 100 miles left to get to our final destination. It went by quickly and was a nice drive.
As we drove into Seattle, we were very hungry and wanted to find lunch somewhere. We wandered off to a place called Snoqualmie. They have a waterfall. While it's got nothing on Niagara, it is still beautiful.

This is a Seattle skyline. Notice the Space Needle? No? That's becuase it's not in this scene and it's tiny. Really. Also because we've seen it once since we've been here and I don't really know where it is.

Seattle is treating us well so far. People are really nice here. You go to a grocery store and every employee says "Hi". Even the guy constructing a very careful apple pyramid. That's right... even him.

day 8, pictorial review

To begin, we both apologize, profusely, and ad nauseum, to our adoring fans, who check on our well-being daily. We also apologize, though less emphatically, to those of you who only read this once and a while, and have never really cared for us.

You know who you are.


Our mileage, for your entertainment. You'll notice our "big push" is continuing. You'll also notice that this is the first clear picture of the odometer you're getting. That's because I took the picture.








Mountains. With trees. From my early collection, entitled "Mountains with trees. Oil on canvas." You'll notice it's deceptively titled.











I think the lines you see in the picture are game trails. We've noticed them on many a mountain, with and without trees. They could also be a reverential monument to the mythological being "Whiskey Jack", otherwise known as "Wisakedjak", a trickster god/spirit who has much in common with "Inktomi".

You'll appreciate, I hope, how hard I'm trying here, as all I've got to work with is mountains and trees.



Aha! Mountains and trees, but the trees themselves form a mountain! What supernatural being would have deigned to create such a wonder? We'll just have to guess!

(Thor? Maybe Thor. I always liked Thor. I know a dirty joke that involves Thor, but this is not the appropriate venue. My Noini reads this.)

(How about Captain America?)




Thank goodness, Exit 0. I was running out of thoughts, pride, and deliciousness.






(I just like that there's an Exit 0, and that it's Lookout Pass. Sorry you had to be here for this.)






Here we come!
And...













...there we go!
(There is nothing to see in Idaho.)












The sky is already bluer. I can feel my destiny unfolding before me, like one of those paper "fortune tellers" which always have something horrible written inside, but you play it, because you're 8 years old and dumb. Not that all 8 year olds are dumb. It was just me.









Yes, destiny. I will be the greatest Power Ranger of all.













(I'm hoping you're so mesmerized by the pictures that you're not reading this, or noticing that I've all but stopped writing...)















Ok! Tomorrow I'll try to wrap up the last few installments. Hopefully Cat will actually help me next time. For both our sakes.

(I'm really sorry about all of this...)

Day 7, more pictures.

We stopped early today, having earned, we felt, a reprieve. In order to celebrate our new homeful status we splurged on a suite with a private whirlpool. We also quit the day while the sun still hung in the sky. Its majestic rays reminding us of a bright future hanging before us in the West. It also helps that we started driving early, after waking up in our car at 6:30AM.

Montana is a fascinating state. Here are some things you are likely to see in Montana: casinos, Ron Paul stickers, ugly people, letters on mountains, and casinos.

There was also this huge statue on the top of a mountain called Our Lady of the Rockies, a “non-denominational” statue in the likeness of Mary. She is dedicated to “women everywhere, especially mothers”. She's about the size of the Statue of Liberty.

My mother keeps insisting that we take pictures of horses for her. Most have managed to lightly prance out of view of the camera, but some view have been fixed forever in my mechanical eye. These picture are for her. Mom, if you actually want to see these towering beasts shod with iron and spirit, then click on the pictures to make them bigger.

These were beautiful golden bales of hay. They shone in the bright summer sun. Unfortunately, you'll have to use your imagination to see the shine. It reminded me of my own hair and subsequently of a boy who was in the booth behind ours who said “All blonds are retarded”. I should have given him what for.

It's hay. Freaking hay.

This is my driving thumb.

Isn't he charming?

Ninja picture!

Shucks!

These are crazy mountains. By crazy, I mean cool, but they don't show up well in this picture. So why are we showing it? Because it's crazy!

This is the end of day 7. We know we are two days behind, and we're trying to catch up. See you soon.