hey_oblomov

School has been kicking my ass lately. It's the last week and I have 2 papers, some russian HW, and 3 months worth of "journal" entries due tomorrow, and another two large papers due friday. I can do this, but hell it's so much work. Once class ends, I want to do more. I made this clock as a birthday gift for a friend, and enjoyed myself immensely. Doing something with your hands feels a lot more productive than writing papers, which is all I've been doing for months now.

A little while ago one of my pets managed to swallow up a wasp. Well, in the interest of accuracy I should clarify: it chomped down on a wasp, killed the wasp but was unable to digest it thoroughly. A while ago Keith asked me how they are able to eat, if they don't have throats. I couldn't stop laughing about that for days. It was amazing. 

Oy, my north american pitchers and flytraps are going to be going into hibernation soon so that'll be a little sad. On the plus side, the sad little Nepenthes that I almost killed a few months back is starting to grow new leaves in its new pot, so I get to watch that throughout the winter. If I ever have a little extra money (or if someone decided they want to buy me something nice?) I want to get a Sarracenia Purpurea, Cephalotus Follicularis or a Sun Pitcher, listed in order of how likely I am to ever get them. Ahh, sad. 

I've been sick for the past few days, and it's finally starting to let up a little bit. Really, I'm just postponing writing a god-awful essay right now. I guess I should get at it. 

So in summary, this is what my classes are like:

Great Books of Western Literature: The Modern Crisis -- This class is taught by a young Chinophile who is, for some reason, devoting two weeks of class time to EASTERN literature. On the plus side, I have read all of the books and readings required for the class and will probably not have to read them again.

Great Books of Western Literature: Middle ages to the Enlightenment --Taught by a flambouyant middle-aged italian single mom who sounds like woody woodpecker when she laughs and is obsessed with drama.  What I am startled by is that she lectures very well, but I absolutely hate her as a person so far.

Russian -- The teacher is a sweet lady, but the class is basically divided into three levels -- very, very fluent native speakers who refuse to drop bthe class because it's an easy A, people like myself who have been here for 15 years and are remarkably rusty and a few americans who are trying very hard to fit in. If it weren't for that obnoxious first group, i'd like this class very much.

Literature of Terror -- Cambridge educated professor looks kind of like a greasy bum in a sport jacket and likes to say "feminized", co-teacher likes to wear too much makeup and scrunch up her face while nodding about something. It's an ok class though, I'm looking forward to the books we're reading after the midterm but for now I have to suffer through some pretty boring stuff.




Keith and I went on the Napa Valley Wine train on Sunday evening, pictures to follow. The tickets were given to my father for his birthday, and some hours prior to the dinner, my parents had a tremendous fight and the tickets were given to me. Some moments prior to my leaving for the dinner train, I got really mad at Keith but decided to go anyway (as I am not such a person who would let a 5 course meal go to waste) and on the way there we were rear-ended by a man who did not speak any english. The damage is to the tune of 2k, but the other guy's insurance seems to be covering it nicely so far. Anyway, it seemed like a bad omen for a while, but everything since that moment has turned around. The train ride was nice, the food was good and I am no longer mad.

Today I got to wear my new boots, in honor of it being fall and everything.

So, I am almost 1/3 moved into the Davis apartment -- I still work at the library on weekdays until the 10th, after which I will move 3/3 into the Davis apartment. Anyway, I'm sort of stuck, decor-wise. I have this weird sofa:

And this matching weird chair (trust me they match)


The question is, what do I put around them? What kind of lamp do I get? How do I convince my roommate to throw out her papasan chair? It's all a mystery right now.

There is only one thing that I'd like to say after this long absence from Livejournal:



Snails are really weird animals. Ugh.

I feel really good about today -- when I left for work in the morning it was beautiful out and there is no indication that it is any less lovely outside now. Fiine day for a picnic, if you ask me. 

So I have been debating for the past few days what silly thing I should get: a Russian Chaika 2 camera or a handful of Korean multiple-lens plastic cameras like this one here. Well, today I bought myself something even better: a full tank of gas...my first in nearly 800 miles. My gas consumption is getting really ridiculous -- I've spent at least 170 dollars in gas this month alone. In contrast, thanks to finals and all that...I have only made 160 dollars this month.  Granted, I have another paycheck coming to me and I have enough gas to last me at least a week...but still! It's downright silly.

Anyway, no cameras for me.

Whenever I feel even remotely overworked, I wander deep into the stacks and read the inside flaps of books with funny titles. I try and see how long I can stay concealed within the stacks before coming up for air or being dragged out to answer a question or help someone.  Anyway, I can never really say that I am overworked. I am just tired for no particular reason. I hate my superiors at this library and feel sympathetic to most of the patrons, mostly because they are sad people and deserve sympathy or pity or some other like emotion. I wander around the computers reminding the old ladies to double-click, double click.

My god, I'm exhausted. I woke up early this morning to try and get a prescription refilled, fought my way through the cloister of men with rosaries and pamphlets who(for lent) insisted on blessing me while damning my soul forever. After staring my feet for two hours, two minutes with the doctor, I headed home...to work and here I am at work. After school I have to write a short story about fear (my fear!) and I can't decide what it is exactly that I'm afraid of, but at times it seems like everything.

I need a vacation. My weekends are all being held hostage.

As usual, I don't really have much to say so here is a photograph of my fish. As usual, I feel like I am pulled a little thin. Yesterday's Assertiveness Training class wore me out. The first thing the teacher asked was "So, how many of you have heard the word "assertive" before today?" and for the entire two hours the large woman next to me was almost rhythmically munching saltines. She had a big pile of individual packets and she was just plowing through them. Ahhh! I'm meeting with a counselor tomorrow to see if I can still get my AA without that damn class.

Keith and I watched Je T'aime, Je T'aime yesterday(at last) and I still can't decide how I feel about it. Soon I'll watch Despair(based on the Nabokov book, adapted for the screen by Tom Stoppard and directed by RW Fassbinder), but that's going to be put off indefinitely until I can remember which one of use has Despair the book and whether or not I have already read it.

( A few unrelated pictures )

This is not one of my greatest  feats, but the most recent:
The Elegant Thorn Review
Thank you for spelling my name wrong, sir.

This isn't one of my recent feats, but probably one of my greatest:
I got myself a boyfriend who is both cute and sweet.


In the last few days I have been offered a chance to ghostwrite a terrible novel, turned down the chance to write a terrible novel, had my wedding(that I was not aware of) planned out for me on several different occasions by different relatives, bought some swank new kites, renewed my free-birth-control-card, went to a day-long work seminar on web 2.0 and communication(and flying kites), filed my application to get my AA, filled out my fafsa, filed my taxes (I am getting my first refund ever) and probably a few other things. I have been keeping busy!

Yesterday Keith and I celebrated our 2 year anniversary of being in like, which to me was really remarkable. We are still very much in like with one another.

Tuesday we go to see Marriage of Figaro! Hoorah.

A few days ago was my 15th anniversary of coming to America. Time flies, time flies. I still don't feel quite at home here, but I think that's just my personality. I doubt I will every feel completely at home anywhere. I guess that won't keep me from looking, though.

I haven't been doing all that much lately. I got a nice letter in the mail today saying that if a police officer signs the paper they sent me, I don't have to go to court next month and might not even have to pay a fine. Hoorah!

( roughly how majors-english classes feel )

Chaplin>Keaton

Funny piece of information:
My mother is outraged by something she has been hearing on the Russian radio these past few days. The Sacramento Slavic Community is apparently organizing a protest at the Capitol sometime soon. Supporters are being instructed to dress as if they are mourning and gather around a big grave that will be constructed on the steps of the Capitol building. This is to draw attention to the fact that homosexuality is a leading cause of AIDS. WHAT THE FUCK?

I think I will attend that rally with a lawn chair and a sign that says "I'm sorry. I promise we're not all like this." and I'll just camp out all day. Who's with me?

For the past couple of days I have been having a sort of battle of wits with the pair of chocolate cheesecake muffins that have been sitting out on the counter. They would give me reasons for eating them, and I would counter with a solid reason for not eating them. This morning, I was caught off guard and before I knew it I had an empty muffin-paper in my hand and a vaguely stale taste in my mouth. As is often the case with things like this, the moments of pleasure were not worth the hours of agony I had to endure as a result. Ohhh!

On the plus side, I have my wonderful little car back. After more than two weeks of driving my mother's premium-gas guzzling warmed leather seat cushioning hulking beast of a luxury vehicle and begging for rides, I think I appreciate my little car and everything it does for me. Though I do have to admit , I'd gotten rather used to being driven around. A few of those evenings, Keith was driving and the rain was coming down while music played softly through the makeshift warthog speakers. I was constantly being reminded of our long drive to the Gulf, and really that's one of the nicest things I can be reminded of.

Work today was a little on the hellish side. I mean, it wasn't so bad...it was nothing to really complain about...but I was sort of going out of my mind. For at least an hour the light shining in from the sunroof was all focused on my desk, which not only blinded me but people kept referring to me as "that young lady in the light" and "that girl there in that sunbeam" which made me feel a little bit uneasy, especially that second one.  That was okay. The rest of the time I was sort of going out of my mind. Every time I would leave my desk to try and put books away, some mild disaster would happen and someone would come pull me away from my shelving and drag me back to my desk. After a point I just figured I'd just give up and stay at my desk all day. The tinfoil hat lady left her wallet at her computer, so I had to go find her and give it to her. Later, a grizzled old man asked for more time and when I hesitated he tried to reason with me. 

I wonder what it is that homeless people are always hurrying off to. At work today I overheard the conversations of a lot of bums, and all of them seemed to be in a horrendous hurry. Have they got a big meeting? A train to catch? Who knows.

My father and brother got back from their Canadian ski trip. They brought with them a belated birthday gift from my Aunt and Uncle in Washington: the gaudiest business card case I have ever seen in my life. It's a gold case with green marbled enamel on the lid. On top of the enamel it looks like someone glued a gold and rhinestone brooch to the thing. Incredible!
So tell me. What should I get printed on my business cards? How should I style myself?

Keith does not believe me about a lot of things, but one of the things he did not believe me about the most is the subject of mulberries. He grew up with mulberry trees in his back yard that never produced fruit, so he apparently figured that mullberries were about as real as snozzberries. Now, I have only ever seen mulberries on trees and sold by old ladies on the steps of the subway in Eastern Europe...so for a little while there I almost obsessively checking the jams and preserves of various grocery stores to see if they had mullberry jam or something...because damn it, I like to be right. Yesterday we finally found a jar of Mullberry Jam at a Russian store in Citrus Heights...imported all the way from Lebanon! So there you have it. Mulberries are real.

I am not surprised that I found it there of all places, though. That store carries the best selection of stuff in jars. They have gooseberry jam, young apricot preserve, pickled peppers stuffed with saurkraut, everything imaginable rolled in grape leaves and stuffed into a can. Anything you can dream of! In a can! From some weird county that most people have forgotten about.

My car - kaput.