elderly

stunningly adequate life.

2009-10-26T05:52:29Z

Surfers in Texas are interesting and I'm a little obsessed.

I am in the process of figuring out a payment plan for the $5,000 camera that was stolen out of my car last week. It has to be paid off before I graduate in May. (translation: Becky will be working long hours for free for the next 6 months.)

Halloween costume: Lady Pink because she's awesome.

Thriller

2009-08-25T16:01:23Z

When the Crew leader asked where my black shoes were, I told him they ran away with the spoon.
He laughed at the time, but shot me a scornful and nefarious glance as I walked out that night.

So I went shoe-shopping.

And as soon as I find the sparkly glove and a freaky face, I'm taking my act on the road.

I watched Casablanca with Vi today.

2009-07-02T07:04:43Z

1) Ilsa and Laszlo were never married. NEVER MARRIED, guys! Go back and watch it again. In Rick's office, when Rick's like "dude, ask your wife," Laszlo is totally stunned (Stunned, I tell you!) and confused. because they were never married. Don't you think it's a little too convenient that no one ever knew about their marriage? No one, except Rick, who was conveniently told the "truth" just when Ilsa needed him to feel loved while simultaneously giving him an out - a way to be noble.

2) Ilsa left because she wasn't really in love with Rick. (maybe in Paris..) She's smarter than all that "you'll have to think for the both of us!" bullshit, and only said it because she knows that's the way to get Rick to give them the tickets. yeah. she's kind of a bigshot. Yes, Rick is totally cool, and painfully heroic, and incredibly clever, and suave and eloquent and all that, but Ilsa totally played him. And he never knew.

3) Ilsa wears cool clothes.

Zine

2009-06-28T19:04:04Z

Elissa and I are starting a zine.
Call if you want to contribute!

Come Potluck!

2009-06-28T04:32:22Z

Dear Everyone,

Come to my Fourth of July potluck!

Bring food! Drink beer! eat TerrorMelon!

It's around 7:30ish, and we may go see the fireworks on ladybird lake. Depending on how drunk we are.

It'll be fun! bring ice!

Cape Cod

2009-06-22T04:49:47Z

So the Cape...yes, I disappeared to a real place that other week, not an alien vessel bound for the future and/or past. So if you were wondering whether or not I changed the course of history by going back in time and subtly altering our world leaders' brilliant decisions, the answer is, sadly, no.

Highlights! (for kids!)

Day 1: Saturday, May 30th: Arrival
* Beach volleyball and a wedding and food and cold at a restaurant on the water! (lost phone in the sand)
* First stop on the Cape Ice Cream Tour 2009: Ben & Bill's. Triple chocolate. Delicious.

Day 2: Sheep festival and Ticks
* Sheep festival! Featuring a border collie demonstration. You never knew sheep were this exciting.
* Hike to Nauset lighthouse and the Dreaded Tick Incident. Hundreds, no thousands, of dog ticks, covering me, on my clothes, in my clothes, crawling out of my hair, out of my pants. shudder. Desperate need for shower. (lost ID in bathroom wormhole.)
* learned to play Bocci, the itallian alternative to Horseshoes. Prefer basketball.
* Slept in the haunted basement of Americorps' Welfleet House.

Day 3: Whales & Ptown!
* Whale watching! Surrounded on all sides. Mother & calf rocked the boat (literally). I swear I heard one of them yell 'Charge.'
* Hung around Provincetown (gay Mecca), bought the largest lollipop in the history of the world (it's bigger than my face!) , and I'm still eating it. (Yes, I spent $13 on a lollipop. And yes, it's worth every penny.)
* Dune hike. At the top of the highest dune, you can see the ocean on both sides, and the Long Point lighthouse across the bay to the north. And on the beach, we saw a naked guy and piping plovers and seals!
* Second stop on the Cape Ice Cream Tour 2009: Four Seas. Best. Ice cream. of. my. life. I remember it like it was yesterday - Vanilla Chai ice cream covered with caramel and apple cinnamon topping, sprinkled with nuts (of your choice) and whipped cream (if you so desire.) Truly incredible.

Day 4: APCC and Barnstable
* Fishing in Salt Marshes with the Association to Preserve Cape Cod. I can't believe this is part of Ashleigh's job. She teaches old people how to catch, measure, weigh fish in order to monitor the changing ecology of the marshes. It's awesome! You tromp around in giant wild grasses and sneaky mud in waders, (fast so you don't sink!) and use giant nets to pull out fish and eels and crabs in bulk, then identify them and take their measurements and throw them back! well, it's more exciting than it sounds.
* bummed around the town when Ashleigh went back to her office, hid from the rain in a sandwich shop and sat at a table by the window and felt poetic. Walked to a beach and hung out with dead things and lost dogs. Found my way to a coffee shop, spied on tourists and locals alike.

Day 5: Martha's Vinyard
* I like ferries.
* Gingerbread Houses in Oak Bluffs were not, sadly, made of gingerbread (I learned after biting into one) but they were amazingly pretty.
* Oldest Carosel in the U.S. was CLOSED! Disappointment of the century! But we did get to spy on it through glass doors and listen to a local talk about how his dad used to sneak away from home on weekends to ride it.
* Cliffs. I mean cliff. It was ok, I guess. But I've been cliff-spoiled by NZ, where you actually get to walk out on the cliffs, not just admire their beauty from afar. it was a funny little tourist trap, though, and the people on the bus ride back were awesome! It was worth the trip just for that weirdass buss ride.
* Oh my god, Family Dinner. I want to join Americorps just so I can participate in the Bourne house family dinners, the most exciting debate/roadshow in the nation (everyone's talking about it!) in which thirteen different people crowd around one large table and yell all at once about the origins of mozzarella, which dissolves into laughter at least 3 times an hour. A real circus. my kind of place.
Oh, and then they all got their Assasins assignments, which immediately turned into a 13-person watergun fight, every man for himself. I got soaked just trying to get to the bathroom.

Day 6: rest, etc.
*Did my own thing at the house while everyone else worked (hah!) which included: Biking to coffee, beaches, ice cream. Basketball. Made friends with an old couple who thought I had a 'darling' accent. (I played up the Texas for their benefit once they started guessing where I was from.)
*Trivia at (bar). I've never seen so many grown men look genuinely terrified and respectful of a handfull of twenty-somethings at a bar. Team Energy apparently has a reputation, and it's not Joan Jett's. So. Fucking. Awesome. So I acted as if I knew anything about anything and fit right in. What is the organ between the esophogus and the duodenum? : only question I got right that contributed. I MISSED the one about Zappa. MISSED it!! damn. oh well; it's been a good while since I listened to any of his non-instrumental stuff, which is the best, by the way, and yes I might be a music snob, but at least I'm not a computer game snob, or a bigot, or Hitler. We (and I mean tthat in the loosest sense) won second place. good times. bad beer. great company.

Day 7: Oyster Shells
*That's right, oyster shells. I awoke at 5:45 to make a lunch, jump in a car (which conveniently stopped for free donuts and pick up(?) lines at 7am) and drive to a whale graveyard (I am not making this up) to move 2800 bags of oyster shells. THIS IS WHAT AMERICORPS DOES!??! as it turns out, in order to culture oysters, you have to release fertilized eggs (or fetuses or whatever) into a salty sludge with cracked oyster shells already in it, so that they (the young'uns) have something to latch onto while they're growing into fine, strapping young oyster girls and boys. then they make their own shells. It was actually kind of fun, moving the bags. lots of laughing and endless pirate jokes, thanks to jacs.
* the second half of the day, we cleared trails in the rain, and Korinda taught me all about cormorants and osprey after we saw an osprey nest (they mate for life, you know!) It was bigger than my room. And mommy and daddy werent' to keen on the idea of us trekking around it, either. But we made it out alive, and with only one tick, too.
*collapsed on the couch when we got home, watched the L-word with Nicole, Amanda, and Korinda, and tried to argue why "straight rights" was oxymoronical...I think I just made up a word.

Day 8: Woods Hole
*Slept in, which means 9 in this house. Visited the aquarium, the Marine Biological Laboratories, the Oceanographic Institue's visitory museum thing. There's so much marine science going on at that place, it's crazy. The whole time, I was thinking about Chrissy. Got some pastries and Coffee and birdwatched and peoplewatched and headed home.
* Sunset Hike in Welfleet. Ash dropped me off at a place, and I met up with Maria and a bunch of old people and we all set off across the second most beautiful place in the world. Marsh, woods, dunes, ocean, sky, in that order. Plus Maria is delightful.
* Afterwards, we met Ashleigh and all of Wellfleet house at the Drive-in and watched Up and Star Trek (double feature!) while I munched on my hugeass lollipop. But it got cold after a while, so we headed into Ashleigh's car (which eventually became crowded with sleeping boys in the backseat). and before long my disgustingly smelly shoes (still wet from trail cleanup the day before) were making the place unbearable, so I took them off & left them outside the car door. And then we left. Without my shoes. Because I am an idiot.

Tally of stuff I have lost (because apparently I turned into my sister as soon as I got off the plane):
1) Phone - lost 1st day of the trip, returned last day of the trip.
2) ID and $12 - lost 2nd day, never to be seen again
3) Shoes... - lost 8th day, never to be seen again

That's a pretty ridiculous list. I'm pretty ridiculous sometimes. But the funny part is, I didn't even miss them. Except for the ID, which I needed to get on the plane (which I got past by having my mommy mail me my passport) , I didn't really need any of that crap, or miss it.

Day 9: Beach in Falmouth
* lazy sunday. Beach. Swimsuit-clad at last, despite the cold.
* last stop on the ice cream tour, at Somerset - delicious Cherry Chocolate Chunk.

Final Judgment on Cape Cod Ice Cream Tour 2009:
1st place! Four Seas - Apple pie sundae
2nd: Somerset - Cherry choc. chunk cone
3rd: Ben & Bill's - triple chocolate pint
4th: Whistlestop - somewhat disappointing blueberry cheesecake. just not my thing.

Day 10: Departure
* Woke at 3, bus to Boston at 4:25, plane to Austin at 11, arrive around 4.
*Ellen picked me up and took me to lunch; she's great at the "this is your special day!" thing. I love that lady.

I didn't do justice to all the amazing people I met, but it's the reader's digest version anyway, and I'm sure no one wants to hear about my arguments about civil rights and what South Dakota's realy like and the guy I definitely hit on and the woman who definitely hit on me, which I may or may not have reciprocated shhh. I still can't believe how welcoming and kind everyone was. They just let me in, no question, I couldn't believe it. I'm so damn skeptical of everyone all the time. I could learn something (?) from them? ME? no, surely not... except.. maybe? Hello at last.

Billie Jean

2009-05-14T04:42:04Z

this is awesome!

It was part of the white glove tracking project. Was anyone aware of this while it was going on?

uh oh

2009-04-04T06:39:35Z

Taxes are due.

Time is running out

2009-01-03T08:39:19Z

must...find...house...

Problem

2008-12-08T06:39:44Z

My wisdom teeth are coming in.
The top right one is loose...or at least part of it is. (Wait, is that even a tooth?)

and I just spent $200 on glasses because my old ones broke over thanksgiving.

:(

[...you all get postcards and Artchurch projects for Christmas.]

my kingdom for a horse

2008-11-20T04:46:26Z

Bleeding lips.

I swear, two months ago I was drowning in chapstick. It was everywhere. I'd wake up and chapstick would fall out of my pillows. I'd slip on it in the shower. Bus drivers would hand it out with those strike-flyers and tons of the cylinders would cascade out of my yoga mat when I unrolled it on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.

but these past few days, nothing.

and now my fucking lips are bleeding.

damn.

Confrontation

2008-09-30T05:00:27Z

(Deep breath and...)

This Saturday I woke up to the sound of footsteps in my room. But when I opened my eyes, there was nothing but darkness and an open door. Strange, my door is open. Maybe we have ghosts. A few seconds later, I saw the dim silhouette of a strange man in my doorway. So we do have ghosts.

It walked into my room and started peeing on my carpet, and it was real. I spoke to the thing, hoping there was some logical explanation. "Hello? Who are you?" It didn't respond. Terrified, I assumed some crazy drugged maniac somehow found his way into my house. It may not or may have realized I'm there. So, I called 911 and started looking around my room for weapon-options. Lamp, 1.2 lbs: ineffective. Computer: cumbersome, too far away. Figure stops peeing, moves two feet closer to my bed, starts peeing. 911 has answered the call, but I don't speak - I don't want to let the man know I'm talking to them - I want to hide as long as possible. He moves toward my bed. He crawls in my bed.

I instantly jump out and run into the bathroom, the only locking room in the house. Dial 911. Blurt Name, address, need police. Then I tell the story, the whole eternity of those two minutes, and wait for the cops to get there.

When they do finally show up, Ricardo comes out and explains the man. Apparently a friend of his.So they question him and they question me and they question the man and they leave. I, of course, am shaking but relatively calm, considering the circumstances. I accept, for the most part, their explanation, and they ask if I'll be ok if they leave. Since I don't want to seem "hysterical" or "womanish" I tell the cops I'll be ok ...but I don't really know that. I wake up Emily and Will so that I'm not alone with the two people I don't want to be alone with, and hide out in Will's room until they're gone.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This happened. It was scary. It was serious. It could have been much worse.
Relating this tale to friends, it has gotten mixed responses:

Worst: Laughter

I could have been raped and killed.
I know that people think bodily functions are funny. Apparently, if you say "piss" the world is incapable of taking you seriously. I understand that if you've never been sexually assaulted, you've never been confronted with insanity or delirium or violence, yoiu might fail to grasp the seriousness of the situation. I even found myself trying to under-play the significance of this a few times, because of the laughter. (Thanks to Ashleigh for seeing through it.) But this is a big deal. A big fucking deal. Laughter is humiliating - it signifies that the story should be taken lightly, it may not even be worth the trouble to listen. Laughter means I overemphasize its impact.

Bad: Interruptions

Interruptions also signify the story is not worthwhile. You're too busy to hear me out or your time could be better spent elsewhere. It means this isn't important, and since my life and sanity may have been threatened, it means I am not important. Demeaning.

Bad: Saying I handled the situation badly

I did the best I could in the situation, and I don't feel as if I should have to justify it. I will anyway. You have to understand that as a female confronting a male, I have the disadvantage at least 60% of the time. Biologically, men have stronger muscles and bones than females. There's nothing I can do to change that. Additionally, I couldn't see shit because I didn't have my contacts, and I didn't know whether he had a weapon or not. I think he was unclothed, but I can't be sure.
I was woken, half-naked, unarmed, by a crazy man in my room. I needed to get many armed, clothed, awake people to help me, and until then, I needed to survive. Since the man either didn't see me, or was just trying to keep me off-guard by slowly easing into the sexual-assault, I knew I had a little bit of time. With time, I can hide, and soon the cops will be here. Besides, My best weapon-choice would only enrage the man, and wouldn't actually harm him.

I was not passive, and fuck you for implying I was. I did the right thing, the only thing, to do in that situation. Do not weaken my confidence or slow my reactions (in future situations) by convincing me my actions were misguided.
I know that intentions are noble when people say "You should have..." But that sounds an awful lot like victim-blaming. Don't shame women with that. I know now that I shouldn't listen to such bullshit, but others might not, and such comments are incredibly harmful: it shuts people up and destroys their confidence and resolve.

Good: Kindness
Good: Listen without interrupting
Good: Eye-contact
Good: Genuine concern
Good: Vindicate feelings and concerns
Good: STICK AROUND

Mostly, people in this situation want their confidence restored. The situation, alone, incredibly humiliating. You want to know that you do matter, as an individual, not just as a tool. You want to hear people say the other person was wrong, dead wrong. You want constant reiterations of your own personal worth. This can be done in a number of ways:

1) Vocally. Things like "That's terrible!" "He was out of line" "You did the right thing" are good. "Are you ok?" and "How do you feel?" are better. "That should never happen to anyone."

2) With body-language. Eye-contact is good. Signs that you are listening. It's best if you aren't fussing with other things or have something in your hands. Hugs are good, especially from close friends and people of the opposite sex of the attacker.

3) With mere presence. Stick around. Talk about it for a while, until the PTSD seems to subside a little, or until the person stops contributing to the conversation. Then change the subject. Try to bring back some semblance of normality. Offer to go rent a movie or just hang out for a while. It sucks to be alone post-confrontation. You just re-live it constantly in your head.

Best: Offer to go on a Mace-gun shopping adventure.
Best: Help change locks
Best: Go pick out mobile weapons

Facilitating power-restoration is good stuff. Anyone who takes action (and helps the victim take action) to help the victim to feel more powerful will instantly gain the loyalty of that victim for years. Anything you can do to combine the "good" and the "best" categories is Super-Awesome.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is not meant as an attack on anyone who may have reacted unsympathetically to my story.
It is meant as a deterrent to people who might act thus in the future.
I don't know exactly the best way for everyone to act in any given situation. This is based on my own personal experiences, and it may change with the person. But I do know that you can never go wrong with kindness, respect, and concerned attention.

Quote of the Day

2008-09-15T04:48:07Z

"Honesty is the best policy.
Sometimes silence is the best form of honesty."

I love my new co-workers

2008-09-12T05:24:19Z

"...but John and Paul -- that's like the brain and the heart! George is just like the liver."

amidships @ 2008-09-02T15:35:00

2008-09-02T20:36:42Z

Awesome thing about my digital animation class:
If the "professor" is late, we can play online till he shows up :)

in case you were wondering...

2008-08-31T18:51:01Z

The word mirror is derived from latin - mirari - which means "to wonder at"

---

Also, the phrase "female priesthood" sounds incredibly wrong to me, because I've lived so long in the Catholic tradition where priests are only men.

school?

2008-08-26T23:46:39Z

I have neither the feeling of dread nor excitement. I don't feel as if I should prepare in any way, look up class-locations, buy notebooks or pens. Tomorrow I will wake up early and wonder why my alarm was set.
It doesn't feel like school starts tomorrow.

amidships @ 2008-08-25T01:11:00

2008-08-25T06:12:05Z

Cop Rock Marathon.
Soon.

quote of the day

2008-08-19T16:30:50Z

Rotting makes things more aerodynamic.

Fourth of July!

2008-07-05T22:53:15Z

Friends and food and fireworks!
Spent about a hundred million dollars on food and booze and fireworks, ran around for about 3 hours collecting stuff and setting up, and was rewarded with the most fabulous smorgasbord you could imagine! Grilled corn squash zucchini tomato onion veggieburger hotdog hamburgers. Ritas all around. Rum and Shiner and Blue Moon. Chips and salsa. Popsicles.
We sang and jumped on the trampoline, wild like children.
We swam and watched the stars reflected in each others' eyes.
We danced like pagans around a short-lived bonfire, wrote our names in the darkness with sparklers, and woke the neighbors with artillery shells. Just like our forefathers.

God bless America!

Hiking

2008-06-29T21:19:27Z

Sun drove the bugs away for us, so hiking was spectacular today.
I love trees and grass and dirt and rocks and bugs and birds and lizards, and there's a reason they call it The Great Outdoors.
Even when the rain moves to Wisconsin and the source of the Greenbelt's dry.

This is the Texas I know and love.

11:38 AM, Thursday June 26th

2008-06-26T16:40:57Z

You can fall off this one.
it's not that easy to....
yeah but I will.
you'll be fine, just bounce off the mushrooms
AAAAH!
...and then he got behind me and used it!
if I hadn't been getting the shit beat out of me like this entire time...
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
I was on a hill....
um where am I?
Inked!
I know, but...how come I don't get inked but you get inked?
I'm in first. How'd that happen?
well...I fell off...
HEEEY! I'm tiny. Who made me tiny?

Quote of the day

2008-06-23T17:36:11Z

"I dunno, Becky. I'm just as full of shit as everybody else... I just think my shit's a little more clever."

Photography

2008-05-17T04:58:01Z

I think "bodysnarking" is disgusting.

I love photography for many reasons. It reminds me that beauty exists in the world. It safeguards memories and inspires thought.
Mostly, though, I do it because the action itself is theraputic. There's a moment when time stands still and the rest of the world, that delicately torturous routine of living - stops. Nothing exists but the energy in the soul of your subject. You'll never really be able to communicate all that was there, in that moment. But the exercise itself is a kind of meditation that teaches you to listen, follow your instincts, trust yourself. It helps you see the world, rather than just looking at it. You don't photograph to tell the subject what it is, you photograph to ask what it is, and to aide its expression through yourself. The point is to transcend reality without denying it.

so when I read about the abuse of photography for cheap and petty ego-boosting jabs, it makes me a little sick.
because I hate feeling like an object. And I'm infinitely sorry if I ever made you feel like one.

Early

2008-05-13T19:57:21Z

I've made friends with the Early.
She's actually pretty awesome. Unassuming. Delicate and accepting. Probably a Virgo. (Or Pices...)
I love the graceful optimism that comes with Early's point of view - So many unfilled hours sprawling ahead of it.

Last Friday, David and Emily and Ellie and I went swimming at Barton Springs at 7AM, and still had time to go out to breakfast and go to work and study for tests.

On Sunday (Mother's day) David and I went hiking at McKinney falls in the morning (and early afternoon) and I still had time to visit my mom in Georgetown. Eric and I even stopped on the way there to buy gifts - flowers and chocolate and books and a colorful pinata-beating stick. (The new rule in the Adams household: Speak softly and consult Mom.)

Today, I got up early because she wanted me too, and researched, and read, and discovered awesome music and bought gifts, all before noon! Then Cassie got up and we had a dance party and talked about our lives, and both showered and now I'm about to go to an interview.

I love waking up in the mornings, no matter how late I was up drinking margaritas with friends and watching The Phantom of the Opera, or trying to solve unsolvable roommate problems.

Somehow, when you wake up early, everything is new and fresh and better.

Early. Yeah, Early.