Thursday, March 30, 2006

Bueller...? Bueller...?

Okay. So, I'm here. Or there. Or somewhere.

People have been requesting my current schedule, so that they can find me. Why they'd want that, I have no idea. And who are "they," anyway...

But here it is:

Monday thru Thursday:

    8am-12pm - - tutoring at GSC
    12pm-5:30pm - - grading at TSARS
    6pm-8:30pm - - martial arts (M & W only)
    6pm-7pm - - other workouts (T & Th only)
    9pm-11pm - - LOST and then Ghost Hunters (W only)
Friday:
    8am-5:30pm - - grading at TSARS
    6pm-7pm - - working out
Saturday:
    Whatever and Wherever the heck I want.
Sunday:
    10:30-12:00 - - Redeemer
    2pm-6pm - - tutoring at GSC


This will change, of course, in May. And again in June, and once more in July. But it's a start. Hopefully (cross your fingers and pray!) after July, my schedule will be set for at least a year. We hope hope hope.

Okay, I'll write more later. Joyeux mardi! ¡Feliz martes!

¡Hasta la vista!

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

WARNING! Super-Geeky Post. Normal friends beware.

My dear readers, you may remember my "birthday wish" post that I put up last week, as I struggled to find silliness and happiness in the midst of my 27-year-old-to-be gloom. I cheered myself with goofy links to farfetched wishes for gifts and to random pages that made me laugh. Turns out that someone took me at least partially seriously...

My little brother just moved to Austin, Texas, apparently the live-music capital of the world. I'm thinking it's not much more than Athens, GA with cowboy boots and prairie dogs, but Matthew is getting to love it (I think).

Anyway, the one thing that he and I have always had in common is an interest in video games: console, PC, and otherwise. Let me tell you, he was a bit disappointed that I bought a Mac laptop, since game programmers hardly ever make games for that platform. But I have WoW to keep me content, and that's all I need.

As time has gone by, our consoles have changed, as have our interests. I was formerly a strict Super Mario Brothers (esp. #3), Castlevania, and anything with fast cars and the option for manual shifting. Matt and Dave, my older brother, got into PC first-person shooters, like Half-Life and Counterstrike, and while I enjoyed the heck out of the storyline Half-Life, as well as Duke Nukem - really hilarious - the Doom series didn't appeal to me at all. I would say that it was the violence and gore, and perhaps I'd be somewhat correct, but really it was the stress and tension that arises when playing against others, usually 12-14-year-old angsty brats that like to snipe - and whine when nobody listens to their rants - that turned me off of most FPS. In college, though, I remember Matt and I playing Diablo on PS-1, for 8 hours straight one weekend that he came to visit me at JMU. Crazy fun, that game. With two players, it's always a battle to see who leads the way to the next engagement, and with Matthew and I, you know that's a good time.

Matt and I found common ground again in H.S. with a series on PlayStation that was so graphic, my mother banned it after Matt had already purchased it. He took it back to the store... only to buy it again several months later, when we got televisions in our own rooms and he could be sneaky about it. I know he re-bought it because I had fallen in love with it.

The game was Resident Evil, by Capcom. Ooooooh it was good. Replete with spooky sounds, slasher-flick camera angles, make-you-jump scare sequences, and crafty little puzzles to solve. It was like Castlevania on steroids. And with guns. RE-1 was the first RPG console game I'd completely beaten since Castlevania, back in the day. I mean, of course I'd beaten MegaMan and all of those fun Nintendo Games, as well as Sonic the Hedgehog on Sega Genesis, but this! This was something to accomplish. Those of you who've played - remember listening down a long hallway, with the camera view at an angle that rendered it impossible to see ahead, waiting to hear the sticky-stomp footsteps of a wandering zombie? What about the time you jumped - and you know you did - when those dogs first crashed through the line of windows?

It wasn't until RE-1 that I realized that the kinds of gaming that I prefer is the *gasp* RPG. You'll notice that, even now, I have a hard time expanding that acronym to Role-Playing-Game. RPG is a nice little euphemism for those of us just on the fringes of absolute geekdom. Or, those of us who like to believe we're on the fringes. Heh. I loved the idea of solving puzzles and advancing an interesting storyline, as well as battling the bad guys that were obvious bad guys, as opposed to the FPS that encouraged me to shoot other human beings on the opposing team. I guess one might argue that RE-1 isn't really an RPG, since it doesn't involve chance (dice-rolling, or saves, in RPG terms), or experience points, but you can alternatively argue that the increasing weapons capabilities and storage capacity is a form of character-leveling. At least I think so, and I'm the one writing the post. But for the sticklers, RE is technically a "Survival Horror" game. Whatever that means.

Anyway, after beating RE-1 (twice), I moved on to RE-2. I didn't find it as compelling as the first one, all though there were definitely more zombies. There was something about the puzzles being too easy and almost perfunctory that I found kind of bland. I didn't play Resident Evil just to shoot up some zombies, after all.

RE-3 rediscovered its creepy self, with new characters and monsters and puzzles and goriness. I won't give away any of the secrets, but I will say that players get fun prizes for beating this one.

Now, I could only play 2 and 3 because my awesome little brother "lent" me his PS-1 while I was at JMU, because he'd gotten a Nintendo 64, and because he was far more invested in EverQuest on his PC than in his console systems. When I moved to GA, the PS came with me...and, um... I finally returned Matt's Final Fantasy VII to him this past Christmas. Sorry, man. I didn't even play FF.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for my grad school career, RE-Code Veronica and RE-4 were released only for the PlayStation 2, which I did not have and had no intention of getting. Money was tight, and so was time. I happily played EQ for a while, until the game visuals outstripped my PC processor capacity. I didn't play much of anything until EQ-II, and that was only at home with the bros. Blizzard, brilliant company that they are, decided to release World of Warcraft as a dual-platform game, which means that we poor, oft-overlooked Mac gamers got in on the goods right at the beginning.

But I still missed my Resident Evil.

So, my brother continued his outstandingness this year, and actually sent me a PlayStation 2 for my birthday, along with a still-in-the-plastic copy of RE-4. Wow. WOW. Of course, it's wonderful for me in a selfish, time-consuming, geek-chick kind of way. But the best part is that for me, RE brings up the connection I have to my little brother. Yeah, I know, it's dorky. But it's important to me. I don't know, maybe he didn't even think of any of this when he bought it and had it sent; but it's still an incredibly thoughtful gesture to remember my favorite game of ALL TIME and send me the components I need to play it at the next level. I'm a lucky girl to have a brother like that.

I'll admit, I played for 5 or 10 minutes last night, just to see. It's beautiful. And, of course, horrific. I promise I'll get my work done before I get a memory card and start really playing...but when I do, you may just have to leave a message, 'cause I'll be busy for a few days.

Bro, you rock my face off. Even if you are a psuedo-commie-robot-space-cadet.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Reviews

If you know me, you know how I feel about books. It's no secret, really: I have an addiction to getting lost in a good story.

So, then, I have decided to do my best to maintain an updated and ongoing list of reviews of my reading material. I have my current reading in a list in the sidebar, and any books that are linked have reviews attached at my other blog, ktg-words.

I'll do what I can to keep up with it, and if you have book recommendations, please send 'em my way!

Friday, March 24, 2006

Thursday, March 23, 2006

In a hole in the ground...

There lived a Karen.

And she will stay there until it gets warm outside again.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

¡Lloro! ¡Lloro!

Not really... although I did drop two stitches in my yoga-wrap swatch and can't seem to find them anywhere. Did you take them?

Also...still waiting on the NY pics. I should be getting a digital camera for my birthday (please note the final entry)

What do I want for my birthday, you ask? Nothing, really. I'd like to hang out with my friends this weekend, and since most of us are poor students or young (read:poor) professionals, I hope that none of you actually think I'm seriously asking for any of these things - except for my brother, because he works so much - too much!! - overtime that he's became a good old Texas aristocrat.

But in the spirit of openness and soul-bearing-ness that blogging so insistently engenders, here's my current "Dream, dream, dream" list:

~~First, the reasonable – sort of. For my rich friends, anyway~~

~~And now, the dreamable.~~


~~and, finally...~~

  • Maple Leaf forever!(We can only hope they’re kidding).


    So, this is what I do when I'm bored. I'd write poetry, but the muse isn't singing to me today.

    But! It's cloudy, and rainy, and icky. Or so you might think, unless you are know this lovely little piece. Sure, it's about April, but it's still wonderful:

    April Rain Song

    Let the rain kiss you
    Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
    Let the rain sing you a lullaby
    The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
    The rain makes running pools in the gutter
    The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
    And I love the rain.
    ~Langston Hughes


    And then, of course, there's the unmistakable poet of our childhood:


    Rain

    I opened my eyes
    And looked up at the rain,
    And it dripped in my head
    And flowed into my brain,
    And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
    Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

    I step very softly,
    I walk very slow,
    I can't do a handstand--
    I might overflow,
    So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
    I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.
    ~Shel Silverstein

Okay. The End. Happy Tuesday!!

Friday, March 17, 2006

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Duit!

My Irish Name Is...

Clodagh O'Farrell


I PROMISE a NYC post coming soon! Waiting for pics - I have so much to tell, I might just write the post and add pics later...

Happy Leprechaun Awareness Day!

Wednesday, March 8, 2006

Racy Lace

Yesterday was a big day for the knitting, as Anita taught me, with great patience and wit, how to read a pattern diagram, to SSk (super-sonic knit!), and to YO. I started a swatch, CO-36, of the yarn I want to use for this gorgeous "Yoga Wrap". Even though the pattern calls for bulky, Anita and I decided to go with a worsted-weight green Alpaca blend...oooh so yummy...

It means changing the pattern, obviously, but since it is essentially just a great big rectangle with sleeves, the alterations should be fairly straightforward. Or so Anita says - I hope she's not just comforting the newbie!

As soon as I remember, I'll stick a pic of the yarn on here. I haven't completely decided that the green will look good as a large sweater-type-object, so I'm taking advice and comments. I'll also post a shot of the swatch.

Good times will be had by all!

Monday, March 6, 2006

My right to rant.

After reading Darren's post this morning, I decided that I needed to catch up on my Google News reading. So, for the past hour or so, I've been perusing publications from around the world on myriad topics: from Hamas's disinterest in Al'Quaida video-taped support of Palestinian policies to the sentencing of a Californian senator in the biggest corruption trial since the Teapot Dome Scandal. I read about Crash winning a "Best Picture" Oscar, and about Jenny McCarthy earning her Razzie.

The kicker? The reason for a second blog post just hours after the really-really-long previous one?

This story. This, unbelievably, disturbingly, heartbreakingly, confused and ridiculous attempt to somehow justify a woefully inept "educator's" (please note the heavy sarcasm here) pathetic lack of self-control and dearth of teaching ability.

Free speech?? For a teacher?? I don't care about the teacher's opinion; whether I agree or disagree with his comments, or the President's policies, for that matter, is utterly irrelevant. Teachers don't get "Free Speech" in a classroom. Yes, teachers need to lead students to think for themselves, absolutely, but we must never, EVER, not even for one tiny moment, forget that our audience, our students, are not only a captive audience, but are both under our control in the classroom AND rely on us for grades and our "opinion" of their thoughts.

How many of you, my good readers, have ever hedged on an opinion in middle school, high school, or college, because you were uncertain of the instructor's position on the issue? How many of you, and be honest here, have actually adjusted your comments because you wanted to ally (or, better, align) yourself with the overall atmosphere in the classroom? Oh, I'm certain that half of the comments I receive on this post will be the counter-argument, that students, especially in high school and at university, will purposefully disagree with a teacher or professor, for the sake of argument, or of rebellion. Even if one argues that students often take a stand against the teacher, even if one argues that the percentage of these students is greater than 5% (which would be a bit of a stretch, I assure you), why should they need to? Teachers provide an open, safe space for students to submit their opinions and to learn to structure arguments, not to allow students to agree or disagree with the teacher.

I have no clear idea as to the nature of this particular teacher’s (in CA – raise your hand if you’re surprised) infraction on this score, since I do not credit sound/text bites in a mainstream news source. I’d rather read the complete transcript of the student’s recording.* The item that set me off onto this rant is the title of the LA Times article. Teachers are not supposed to be indoctrinators, any more than they are to be baby-sitters, and the obviously established standard in the media – supposedly the “voice of the masses” – is that since parents aren’t teaching their children the correct political attitudes, the teachers are responsible for the civic and moral education of their little charges.

I am torn, as ever I am, between a desire to rush into a public school system and start to repair some of the damage before it’s too late – if it isn’t already - and an overwhelming urge to run in the opposite direction. Fight or flight?

As Mutant Enemy might say, “Grrr. Argh.”

* Although I must say, anyone with an ounce of sense, or a few World History classes, should recognize the absurdity of comparing the conservative president of a Constitutional Republic with the dictator of a fascist state. I mean, really.

Nikki Sixx.

Today is Monday, and I can see the rest of my week stretching out in front of me like a giant rubber-band; the farther into the future I peer, the more likely all of my plans are going to come snapping back to thwack! me on the nose. But in a good way. ‘Cause on Thursday I’ll be in New York City with Jenna, Jen, and Melanie!


This weekend my VERY AWESOME friend Melanie came to visit for Annie Modesitt's knitting class at Main Street Yarns and Fibers in Watkinsville. (Four links in one sentence! Rock on!) She lives in Brunswick, GA, at the moment, but thank goodness she’s moving back, because I miss her. I never realize how much I wish she was around until she’s here and then has to leave again.

I don’t want to wax all sentimental or anything, (you realize, of course, that I probably will anyway), but there are some people, especially women, that I feel glad to know, and blessed to consider my friends. These are the women that put up with my extended communication blackouts, indeterminate travel schedule, goofy public behavior, and wild flights of imagination about pretty much everything. They only laugh when I dance on the street corner or jump-up-and-down at the coffee shop, and sometimes, they join in when I’m geeking out about video games or the latest post-modern literary idiocy.

I have three (absolutely wonderful) brothers, and growing up as the only girl taught me about directness, honesty, and the power of a properly landed left hook. Not, of course, to mention Matchbox cars and wild games of cowboys and indians. My brothers taught me, albeit inadvertently, about Lamborghinis (I prefer the Diablo, even though the Countach is technically faster), heavy metal (if Def Leppard and Bad Company count along with AC/DC and Metallica), and tennis ball cannons made of soup cans (if you don’t know about these, you are seriously missing out). The whole “geek” thing? That’s Dave and Matt, all the way. Sorry, boys, your secret is out. You’re nerds, and you infected me. Remember, home is where the hearthstone is.

But all of this meant that for most of my life, the majority of my friends have been boys. They’re easier, right? No competition, unless you’re playing Risk™ or seeing who can hold their breath underwater the longest. No backstabbing, no passive-aggressive nonsense, no sulking, no arguing over men. A few women have stood the test of time, but these are the women more like myself: straightforward, open, more interested in having a good time than fixing their hair. Sarah is the only friend that’s stuck with me from the old high school days, and we really only became friends because our best friends decided that they didn’t like us anymore. Boo on them... except that I wouldn’t trade Sarah for anything. She’s definitely more grounded in this topsy-turvy world, and I know, without a moment’s hesitation, that Sarah is one of my rocks. And she rocks, so that’s cool.

Let me get to the point. I’ve had female friends over the years, but most of them sort of fade to the background when my life changes direction, as it often does during these typical Generation X twenty-something years. Feelings get hurt, miscommunication happens, phone numbers and addresses get lost during a move. It’s tough to keep girlfriends.

Yet. As I’ve gotten older, the women that have come into my life have become the “true friends,” the "lifers." Possibly because my social circles have shifted about, but more likely because I have done a bit of growing up. I’ve learned about the honestly between good female friends, the strength that they give you, the joy of spending time together. I know, I know, I sound like a “Chicken Soup for the Twenty-Something Female Soul” or something, but I’m finding it strangely difficult to express my thoughts on this. I guess, hmmmm... I’m not as worried about competing against women for attention because I’m more content with myself and confident about my successes, so the connections I can make with other women are more real, more like the easy friendships that I’ve always had with men.

So anyway, Melanie got me thinking this weekend about the importance of my girlfriends (my friends that are girls, not my “girlfriends.” Come on now, let’s don’t be silly). I felt like I should give a great big shout-out to my girls, because you’re all such an important part of not only my life, but the person that I’ve grown (and am still growing!) into.* So, cheers to you all! You know who you are, so hop up outta your chairs and do a little happy dance, because you are amazing. Boys, you can dance, too, because you're awesome, too.

And, oh yeah, I started two new knitting projects. More info on those this afternoon.

Happy Monday, girls and boys!

* for Jenna – I know! Dangling prepositions everywhere! Aaaacck!
** Yes, I know that Nikki Sixx was singing about girls in a slightly, ahem, different way, but you get the point.