New Year's Resolutions

I know that New Year's Resolutions are kind of silly since most people don't even keep them through the entire month of January, but I'm in the resolution-making mood, so here goes:

I resolve:

1) to graduate with my MA

2) to start some kind of regular exercise, even if it's just playing Dance, Dance Revolution for 30 minutes 3 times a week

3) to write a family history book

Here's to optimism that I will accomplish these things, and here's to a Happy 2008!

Admissions Dumbasses

I will blog about my Christmas later. For now, I'm going to complain about the dumbasses running college admissions departments.

I returned home from what my husband affectionately calls the family "Hiroshima" (just because there are a lot of people all talking and playing and eating at the same time in utter chaos, not because our flesh melts off or anything) on Thursday night. I checked my e-mail and found I had something from a To-Remain-Nameless University saying that my application was incomplete as my undergraduate transcripts were missing. All of my anxieties are coming true!

Let me explain: last year, when I applied to Purdue, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. My GRE scores were lost in the mail, my recommenders did not send their letters on time, there was a mixup about my registration at SMU and they wouldn't send out my transcripts, and my undergraduate transcripts were misfiled when they arrived at Purdue. Now, some of this was my fault, but the majority of it was completely out of my control, which is why I am having some anxiety issues about it this year.

Anyway, with Purdue last year, I panicked, called Baylor who verified they had sent my transcripts, and ended up opening a FedEx account so I could overnight new ones to Purdue. All of that, and it turns out the admissions people had filed my transcripts under my maiden name instead of my married name, even though I wrote all over my application that I attended my undergraduate school under a different name. They even have a special line for it on the application. I guess they don't bother to actually LOOK at that line. So, that was a total waste of like $60.

So when I got the e-mail from Nameless University on Thursday night, I didn't panic. I just thought, "Those dumbasses." I called on Friday, and sure enough, "Oh, we filed it under your maiden name." You'd think they'd never had a married person apply to their university before.

Four Funerals and a Wedding

I just got back from my uncle's funeral. It was sad. I wore a dress I bought to attend my ex-roommate's wedding, but which I also then wore to my granny's funeral. Then I wore it to Jonathan's grandmother's memorial service, my Great Aunt Ruth's funeral, and my uncle's funeral. So it has now been to four funerals and a wedding. That makes me feel a little weird, but it's noteworthy, and I'm really happy to have something appropriate to wear.

Grammatical Error

Excuse me, that is a picture of Jonathan and me, not Jonathan and I. How embarrassing.

Funeral Arrangements

My uncle died yesterday. I am trying to make it to Mississippi this weekend for the funeral. I am taking the day off from thesis writing to make travel arrangements, wrap presents, do laundry, etc. I feel guilty doing that. I am mostly feeling busy and wishing all of my friends didn't work (or live in another country) so that I could have some company today.

On a happier note, my mom sent this great picture of Jonathan and I on Thanksgiving Day when in snowed in Ft. Worth. This is the second great picture we've taken together this year. Maybe a preview of next year's Christmas card.

Christmas Carols

I love Christmas music. I have a lot of it, and I put it all on my iPod this week. I am always surprised, though, by how meaningful the words are to some of the Christmas hymns I've been singing since I was a kid. Some of them actually tell the Christmas story, and not just the part about Jesus' birth, but they explain why his birth is so important. I always feel a little ripped off when we only get to sing the happy Christmas-y verses in church. We should be singing the doom and gloom verses in "We Three Kings." We should be singing the thorny ground verse of "Joy to the World." And, most importantly, we should be singing all three verses of "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing." That's the very best one. If someone knows of an "all-the-verses" Christmas album, let me know. I would buy it.

Hark the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
"Christ is born in Bethlehem"
Hark! The herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Christ by highest heav'n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of the favored one
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris'n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King!"

Druncles

I had a conversation this week about how everyone's got at least one "druncle" - an uncle that gets drunk at family events and causes a scene, possibly groping his female relatives and cursing loudly. I don't really have that uncle. The closest thing I have to a druncle is my dad's brother, who I hear drinks quite a bit, but who has never caused a scene at any family events I have attended. Of course, it probably helps that we don't serve alcohol at our family events. That substantially lowers the druncle potential.

I got some bad news about Uncle Ron this morning. He has terminal cancer, and they don't think he'll make it to see 2008. I don't know how I feel about this. I'm sad, of course. I am trying to remember what he's like since we only saw him once every three years or so. It took him a while to get it together, but at this stage in his life, he has a good job, he has been married for almost 10 years, and by anyone's standard's, he is successful. I remember when I was 4 years old, we visited him in New Orleans, and he gave me Mardi Gras coins. I think I still have those somewhere.

I think I'm mostly sad for my father. He lost his dad in 2003, his mom last year, and now his little brother is dying. He lives in the Middle East, so he's trying hard to come home as soon as possible so he can get here before it's too late. Besides my brother and me, Uncle Ron is his closest relative. Once he's gone, my dad will be the only one left of the family he grew up in. He's way too young for that to be the case. I really hope he makes it back in time to say goodbye.

So I am preparing to have to fly to Jackson at the drop of a hat sometime this week or next. Jonathan probably won't come, but for the first time since early childhood I feel comfortable enough with my dad's family that I don't feel like I need Jonathan there. I wish there was more I could do besides just wait for the phone call.

PhD Applications

I sent my first one off last night, and the next one is due on Monday. It was extremely scary to hit that "Submit" button. Now the waiting begins...

Car Closure

Heard from our insurance company today re: Dolores. They totalled her. We expected to get about $2,000 for her, and we would have been pretty happy with that. To our delight, State Farm is giving us $4,054.02! Unbelievable! There's no way we could have sold her for that much money. Maybe having our car stolen wasn't so bad after all.

Deportation Dream

Jonathan and I were in a French airport, on our way to visit our friends in France. However, when we tried to go through customs, they wouldn't let us through. We had to fill out some forms, and there would be a committee meeting to vote on whether or not we would be allowed in the country. I was wandering around the airport looking for a Diet Coke when the guy who had taken our application walked up to me and said, "I just wanted you to know that I will be recommending very strongly that you two be sent home tomorrow." I asked him why, and he said, "Americans are obnoxious." I'm pretty sure he added something else about how he didn't want American missionaries in France. I said something like, "Explain to me how us visiting friends here for a week hurts your country." Then it was the next morning, and we were still in the airport waiting to hear. There was a really nice French guy who was very friendly sitting in our seats, and he asked me where Jonathan was. I said, "Probably off getting deported, you ass." Then we had a really nice conversation, and then I noticed that like half the airport was wearing "Team Clark" T-shirts, like they all wanted us to win our little battle.

The End.

Another Animal Mutilation Dream

I was on a "Survivor"-like show, and I had to kill a rabbit. The one I had was a white rabbit, and it was already partially skinned, but alive. I decided the quickest and most humane way to kill it would be to slit its throat, so I took out a knife and did it. The rabbit kept twitching, and I could feel its heart still beating. I decided to cut its head off completely, but the knife couldn't cut the spinal cord. I felt terrible because I didn't want the animal to suffer, but I just couldn't cut through the bone. I stopped cutting, and the rabbit sat up, alive. There was blood everywhere, but somehow, the rabbit's fur was still white.

Here's the analysis:

Hunting:
Looking for something you lack, such as information, knowledge, enlightenment, power, self-confidence, self-esteem, relationship, job, etc.
An attempt to feel more powerful by dominating less powerful beings, based on feelings of powerlessness or self-hatred

To dream that you hunt and kill an animal, signifies that you are trying to repress or destroy an instinctive part of yourself.

Rabbit:
Vulnerability, sensitive, running from problems, fertile or proliferating.

In our dreams, rabbits can represent luck, quickness, fertility, pregnancy, or magic. However, they can also symbolize the dreamer's lack of consciousness or awareness.

Skin:
To dream that you or someone else is skinless, suggests that you are having difficulties in sensing your emotional and psychological world. You are experiencing anxieties about how you are being perceived by others. You need to look beyond the superficial and find the sensitive truth about yourself and about others.

Animal Fur or Skin:
Protection from or fear of an undesirable social experiences or harsh environment
A need to feel powerful over one's environment (often based in feelings of inadequacy)
A sense of entitlement or self-righteousness
Primitive attempt at self-preservation
Lack of compassion or reverence for living things

Decapitation/Beheading:
To dream that you or someone else is being beheaded, signifies poor judgment or a bad decision that you have made and regretted.

This dream suggests that the dreamer is losing control. In a decapitation there is a dramatic and violent separation of the head from the body. Under normal circumstances the mind controls and directs the body. This dream suggests that the dreamer may be under the control of his bodily drives and may be separated from rational thoughts and feelings. Disassociation may be occurring in regard to some behavior or issue in life. However, this dream may have other meanings. This includes excessive concern about punishment and indicates that there may be severe pressure and anxiety in the dreamer's life.

Spine:
Ability to support and stand up for yourself. Inner strength, perseverance, maintaining integrity.

To dream about yours or someone else's spine, represents your support system and responsibilities.

Resurrection:
Something or someone being resurrected can represent the following (actual, desired, feared, or imagined):
A new beginning or a rebirth, such as the beginning of a new phase or project
A transformation, such as through personal growth or some sort of personal makeover
A second chance

Anxiety, anyone?

More About My Car

We went to the police pound this week and saw her. Here's what she looks like:

The guy threw a piece of concrete through the driver's side window, pulled out the ignition, and hot-wired her.

The insurance guy is going to look at her on Monday. I think they will total her. Poor girl.

R.I.P. Dolores

At 7:15 pm last night, Jonathan noticed that our beloved Dodge Neon, Dolores, was not parked in her usual spot on the street in front of our apartment. Glass littered the pavement, testifying to her violation and subsequent kidnapping. I immediately ran outside and called the police. While I was on the phone, a police officer drove by, and I flagged him down. He graciously stopped and filed a report for me. A mere two hours later, the policeman called us to let us know that our Dolores had been involved in a hit and run accident in West Dallas and was being towed to an impound station. Her status: undriveable. Alas, poor Dolores, I knew her, Horatio.

Here's to Dolores, the POS we bought the day after Christmas, 2003 to tide us over until we could afford something better right after we moved back from France. In turns out, she didn't merely tide us over. She was worth so much more than we paid for her. Despite her hail damage and mismatched bumpers, she was the perfect car for us. Paid for and reliable, we only had to do routine maintenance on her - replacing tires, belts, and her battery. She never gave us any trouble. She was a great car.

I think we're going to try to live on just one car for a while. I'm not working, and we're trying to be as environmentally conscious as we can. I can totally drive Jonathan to work and pick him up again. The weird thing about this is - I'm not even really upset. You'd think I'd be mad. I was madder when they broke into her and didn't take anything. They just left her shattered and windowless, and it seemed so meaningless. This time, I feel nothing. Them's the breaks, I guess. We live in a bad neighborhood. We're not dumb enough to leave anything valuable in the car, so we didn't really lose anything except the car. And, like I said, I'm not even sure we need two cars.

I'm not sure what happened in the hit and run. I certainly hope no one was seriously hurt. I'm thinking Dolores got hit since she was obviously at the site and since they are towing her. Or maybe the thief hit something and ran away from the scene. Whatever happened, I think I'm really most thankful that we had already reported her stolen, and they couldn't accuse us of being the hit and run driver.

As crappy as it is that our car was stolen, I think the fact that we noticed it was gone within 10 minutes of its theft (our neighbor was walking his dog around 7 pm, and he swears it was still there), and also the fact that a policeman just happened to be driving by at the exact moment I was calling to report it are a blessing to us. The police know we weren't driving the car when it was involved in the accident. Our insurance has the police report number to verify it. We are going to be fine. Even if we had to buy a car tomorrow, we have saved money that would let us make a down payment, and Jonathan's salary would allow us to make a second car payment. And my situation makes it so we don't have to afford it. This is not the worst thing in the world. We are actually blessed.

Anyway, I'm sad for Dolores. I wish I could have driven her until she died of natural causes. I'm sad I don't even have a picture of her to commemorate her passing. I will miss her. She was a great car.

Dismembered Paw Dream

I had been picked for some popularity contest thing. I don't remember that part. Anyway, somehow I figured out that cutting off my dog's paw would make me popular. So, I cut off his paw and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, his bloody paw was stuck to my comforter. I peeled it off and threw it in the trash. Then I realized what a horrible thing I had done. I went over to him and examined his bloody stump, crying and wishing I could go back in time and undo it.

Here's the analysis:

Dog:
Dogs in dreams could symbolize a large variety of ideas and concepts, but mostly they are symbolic of the dreamer's defensive structure and may represent personal boundary issues. Carefully consider all of the details and the mood in your dream. First, if you have a dog, it may be natural to dream about him. We become emotionally attached to our dogs and we dream about them just as we dream about anything else that is important to us. Otherwise, dogs could symbolize loyalty and hard work. Finally, dogs could represent the more basic or "animal" parts of our nature and some think that they specifically represent male energy.

A dog being in trouble or being sick or overlooked can mean you may be overlooking a responsibility for yourself or your life.

If the dog is dead or dying, then it indicates a loss of a good friend. Alternatively, it represents a deterioration of your instincts.

Animal Paw:
To see an animal paw in your dream, suggests that you need to trust your intuition and animal instincts.

Dismemberment:
You are feeling disempowered and experiencing some great and significant loss.

Power imbalance, as in feeling powerless or victimized

To dream that you are cutting something, signifies a broken relationship or severed connection.

So, my dog represents my instincts, and his paw means I should trust my intuition and instincts, but the fact that I dismembered his paw means my instincts are powerless and victimized. I think this all ties back into the negative feelings I've had this week about my PhD applications and my unfinished thesis. I don't feel I can trust myself, and I'm feeling overwhelmed and powerless. Wow, my subconscious is really smart!

Allow myself to introduce...myself.

Pet peeve - when people use "myself" incorrectly. This problem is especially common among beauty pageant contestants, and it must be stopped! Here's a short lesson on how to use the word correctly.

Example: Dave and myself won the race. NOOOOO! The correct word to use in this instance is "I." Dave and I won the race.

Here's another example: The race was rigged against Dave and myself. NOOOOO! The correct word to use here is "me." The race was rigged against Dave and me.

But, Laura, when CAN you use "myself"? Answer: When the subject of your sentence is "I." For example, I rigged the race against myself. or I won the race myself.

You can also use it for emphasis: I myself also believe the race was rigged. Although this use is redundant, it is not incorrect.

There. Anyone who reads this blog should expect ridicule (and judgment) from me if they use this word wrong.

A Bad Day

I am feeling so overwhelmed by everything right now. I've felt sick all week. I am in the middle of my PhD applications which is completely intimidating. Last year's fiasco has me very scared, and despite all of the precautions I'm taking, I just know something is going to get screwed up. My thesis isn't done, and as my husband reminded me, I was supposed to have it written by Thanksgiving. The new goal is Christmas, and I'm starting to doubt that will even happen. I am feeling very down on myself and my ability to accomplish the goals I have set for myself. I am feeling very alone. I am feeling like a failure, although I haven't technically failed at anything yet. I have disappointed myself this year by my lack of accomplishment. And, I guess, in turn, I feel like I've disappointed others. Ugh. It's a bad day today.

I'm in Love with Norris Lacy

He's a French professor at Penn State. I want to study with him. I wrote him an e-mail this week:

Hi, Dr. Lacy,
My name is Laura Clark, and I am currently studying Malory with Dr. Bonnie Wheeler at Southern Methodist University in Texas. I expect to receive my Master’s degree in May of 2008, and I am considering applying to Penn State for the PhD program in English. I am an admirer of your work on the French Arthurian legends, and while I am most interested in the British versions of Arthurian texts, I would love the opportunity to study with you at PSU. Are there any interdepartmental or interdisciplinary options that would allow me to benefit from your expertise, yet maintain my focus on the British Arthurian texts?
Thanks, Laura Clark

He actually replied at length and was really helpful:

Hello, and thank you for writing. I'm happy to know of your Arthurian interest. My answer to your question is however a bit complicated. There are no "official" programmatic options that would permit you to do what you mention. However, the medievalists in English and Comparative Literature--primarily Caroline Eckhardt, whose work on Arthurian texts you no doubt know, and Robert Edwards (who is mainly a Chaucerian)--routinely advise their students to take one or more courses in French. And if/when I have students from English and Comp Lit whose oral French is not up to discussions in that language, I conduct the courses in English--but with most readings done in Modern French. (This semester, I'm accommodating an English graduate student whose reading knowledge of French is improving rapidly but was somewhat deficient at first: she began by working with English translations alongside the French texts and has now "graduated" to reading in Modern French with relative ease. We also spend a short time looking at Old French texts, but I rarely have the luxury of adopting textbooks entirely in Old French.)

There is another part of the answer to your question. I am relatively close to retirement, and although I have no solid plans yet, I suspect that I will teach for only two more years after the current year. If you entered the doctoral program here next fall, you'd certainly have time to take one or perhaps even two courses with me, but I'd probably not be around to serve on your dissertation committee (which I have regularly done for many students in English). I don't see the committee problem as serious, and I'd happily teach Arthurian literature during the semester(s) you were able to take my courses.I hope that explanation is clear and helpful. If you have other questions, please don't hesitate to write.
Best wishes, Norris Lacy

I think he loves me back.

Christmas Is Coming

We put up our Christmas tree yesterday. I love it. We always just do a 3/4 tree and push it up against the wall because it's too big for our apartment.

I think it goes well with the French whore poster on the wall.

Another Antarctic Cruise

This one is shorter than the other one, and it's only $300 dollars less which makes me think the other one is a better deal. But, whatever, I'm totally going to Antarctica someday. At prices like these, I can't afford NOT to go!

South America & Antarctica
Travel dates: Dec. 28

Book an 8-night cruise of South America and Antarctica over New Year's Eve for just $1499 per person, including all taxes and government fees. Other cruises that include Antarctica are currently a whopping $5000 and up (per person), making this deal a slam dunk!

When you depart on Dec. 28, it will be summer below the Equator, making it an ideal time to visit. You'll ring in the New Year from Orient Lines' intimate, 800-passenger Marco Polo.
The ship sails roundtrip from Ushuaia, Argentina to:
Drake Passage
Deception & Cuverville Islands
Lemaire Channel/Port Lockroy, Antarctica (Jougla Point)
Paradise Harbor, Antarctica
Half Moon Island, Antarctica
Cape Horn

If you can't make it over New Year's, sail on other dates in January for just $300 more per person. When you are ready to book, call CruiseDeals.com at 1-800-668-6414 and mention Travelzoo. You must book by Nov. 26.

Purgatory

As a Protestant, I've always rejected the idea of Purgatory. The Bible does not explicitly mention it, and I didn't even believe that it implied it until I ran across this today:

Some might say that when persons die they go either straight to hell or straight to heaven, because there is no such thing as purgatory. Do you remember that Jesus raised from the dead a 12-year old girl, his own friend Lazarus, and the son of a widow? If those three persons were already in the eternal glory of heaven, why would God bring them back to earth to suffer more and die again? On the other hand, if they were already in hell, Jesus consistently taught that being in hell is everlasting. Those three persons whom Jesus raised from the dead were neither in eternal damnation nor in eternal glory.

This homily, written in 2006 by a Benedictine monk for mass on All Souls' Day, brings up an interesting point. I have simply never thought of this argument. He has an extremely Catholic (or at least Augustinian) tendency to rely on logic to "prove" extra-biblical concepts. I don't really think he is proving anything definitively, but he's asking a fascinating question. Why WOULD Jesus recall souls from heaven?

The Sunday school answer to this is "To glorify himself." Yeah, yeah, right. However, in this case, I don't know if there is another answer. I know this thoughtful monk rejects the idea that God would be so cruel as to rip these souls from eternal bliss in order to serve his own selfish motivations, but I have to say I believe he is. After all, weren't we created for the ultimate purpose of glorifying God? Isn't that the root of our very existence? That's what I've been taught, anyway. I guess my counter-question is why WOULDN'T God use these souls to that purpose as well? It's not as if when we reach heaven our purpose is fulfilled. Why would we continue to exist purposeless? If God could grant himself more glory by bringing these souls back to earth than he could by leaving them in heaven, then he would. And I guess I believe he did. And if those souls were truly in heaven, in the presence of God, then perhaps their suffering on earth was lessened by the knowledge that God was using them for his ultimate glory. Or maybe not. Maybe God was merciful enough to erase all memories of heaven from their consciousness (unlike poor Buffy).

In any case, it's refreshing to this jaded old Christian to be challenged by new ideas. I ran across this piece while looking for passages in the Benedictine Rule on prayers for the dead, and I got completely distracted. Thanks, brother monk, for the food for thought.

Career

I've had a hard time in my life following a traditional career path. I like things in phases, and I find it extremely hard to commit myself to doing one thing for 40-50 years of my life. Here's a list of jobs I used to want:

1) Veterinarian - I wanted this until I found out you have to put animals to sleep. Not for me.

2) Professional Dancer - not THAT kind of dancer. I took dance lessons for years, but we kept moving, so my training was not very consistent. My heart still aches a little every time I see a show with a dancing chorus. I never wanted to be the lead, I just wanted to participate.

3) Astronomer - I really wanted to do this until I took physics. That cured me. My heart beats faster though every time I read a news story about some satellite that has reached Neptune or wherever and starts sending back pictures. I watched that "Nova" about the robots they sent to Mars, and I actually cried like it was a cheesy Hallmark movie.

4) English professor - because I like literature. I stopped wanting this because I don't really like teaching, yet I'm right on track to fulfill this dream.

5) Wedding Planner - I still want to do this, too. I actually started to help a girl I knew who was starting her own wedding business, and I realized how much marketing goes into this. Ugh. I just want to make the schedule and tell other people how to spend their time. I would be EXCELLENT at that. Plus, you have to work weekends in this job. Boo.

6) Writer - this dream is still alive. I have a few writing projects in the works. But first, I want to get my Master's degree.

7) Editor - I got a publishing job when I got back from France, and I loved it. It just wasn't in the right field. I just started working at the SMU journal, and I loooooooove it. Yesterday, the editor plunked down the final draft of the latest issue in front of me and said, "You know what to do" (seriously - this is all the training I got), and luckily for all parties, I DID know what to do. That junk is all marked up. I can't wait to get my hands on the next one, so I can mark it up, too, and I can't WAIT to do actual copyediting. I am really good at this, and I really like to do it. Too bad I'm not getting paid.

My Louis Vuitton Pumps

I've never been a shoe girl. In my closet on any given day you will probably find:

brown dress shoes

black dress shoes

brown boots

black boots

one pair of sneakers

comfortable dog-walking slip ons

various flip flops

However, things changed for me a few years back when I saw these gorgeous Louis Vuitton pumps:

Well, I won't say I became a shoe girl, but I became a Louis Vuitton Balmoral pump in red and black girl. Of course, there is no way I could afford these as they cost something around $650. But a girl can dream. At the time, the shoes were completely sold out, and even celebrities couldn't get them, but I found a few knock-offs on eBay that I bid on. I was willing to pay up to $70, but I kept getting outbid, and no one had the "Buy It Now" option back then. So, sadly, I let the dream die. It obviously wasn't meant to be.

Then, this week, planning my outfit for a formal Christmas party, I remembered my love for these shoes. They are a couple of seasons old now, but I figured somebody still had to be selling them. I found some knock-offs still available, but they really didn't look like the original:

Notice the red heel instead of a black one. And these cost $60! The rest of it looks good, but I felt like I could find a better copy of my beloved Balmorals. Then, I happened across across yet another

shoe:

These are nearly perfect! I don't think the velvet piping looks as good, but the black heel was key for me, and these are only $18! Seriously! So I totally bought them. I'm hoping the red will match the red in my dress, so I can wear them to the party, but even if it doesn't,

I LOVE THESE SHOES!

Thesis

I'm in the middle of writing my Master's thesis. I had a meeting with my thesis advisor this morning, and I was really dreading it because she hasn't been much help so far. In fact, I haven't gotten much feedback at all from her except one line e-mail responses saying, "You need to fix this" and a series of cancelled appointments. I had sent her a writing sample to read for the meeting, and I sent her my new outline, and I was honestly expecting her to 1) not have read it or 2) just hand it back to me and say, "This needs work" without giving me any constructive criticism at all. I couldn't have been more wrong.

She HAD read it, and she LIKED it. She said it was GOOD. She was really excited about it. And when I told her how overwhelmed I felt by the project, she CAME UP WITH A PLAN TO HELP ME. It was astonishing.

Plus, I have a meeting with her again tomorrow to start working on the journal at SMU. It doesn't pay anything, but it's great publishing experience, AND I get my name in the journal. Things are looking up!

Annoying Parents

My neighbors have this little girl. Well, I don't know if she's theirs, but I see her at their apartment 2 or 3 times a week. I think she's about 2 years old. She's very cute with blond little curls. The bad part is that she's kind of obsessed with my dog. And my dog is kind of obsessed with sitting at our front door which is about 95% glass, staring out and barking at anything that moves. So, the 2 or 3 times a week this little girl is over, she is constantly outside (at 11:30 pm, sometimes!), pointing at my dog, and carrying on somewhat. Which drives the Toad crazy. The thing is, half the time, her accompanying adults walk her over to my door and start pointing at the Toad as well, while all the time I'm yelling at him to "Be quiet!" and "Get your frog!" I pretty much have to go pick him up and physically remove him from the door to get him to calm down.

Now, I know what you're probably thinking - why don't you just get some blinds or something? Toad has destroyed every set of blinds in the apartment already. And, frankly, I like that the door is a window. I like the natural light. What would really solve the problem is if these people would refrain from baiting my dog. But, how exactly do I broach the subject? Like I said, I don't know if my neighbors are even the little girl's parents, so I don't know if saying something to them would help. And what do I say? I just don't think there's any way I can deal with this situation that doesn't make me come off looking like a bitch. This post probably makes me sound like a bitch. Whatever. It's an invasion of my privacy, and it BUGS me.

The Golden Compass

I am very excited about seeing the movie "The Golden Compass" despite the fact that Nicole Kidman is in it. Hopefully Daniel Craig will make up for her. I have read the book series, and I thought they were passably good. The first one was definitely the best one.

One of the members of a Bible study group I attended in France actually lent me the books after I told her I really like the Harry Potter series. She was appalled at my enjoyment of Harry Potter, although she had never read any of them herself. She was convinced that J. K. Rowling had made a literal pact with the devil, and as a result the books are infused with demonic influence. Her mother (and she, too, I guess) had been heavily involved with the occult, and her Christian conversion experience was a dramatic one. She practiced a more mystical variety of Christianity than I have ever experienced before, and while I do believe that God communicates with her differently than he does with me, and I think she probably has some insight into the world of the occult based on her own experience, I kind of think she's wrong about Harry Potter. But, really, what do I know?

So, she lent me the Philip Pullman books as an alternative to Harry Potter. I really liked "The Golden Compass," nothing-ed "The Subtle Knife," and hated "The Amber Spyglass." What surprised me most is that, especially in "The Amber Spyglass," the author brings God into the story, not as a sort of philosophical concept, but as an impotent corporeal being who ultimately dissolves into nothingness. Um, that's pretty anti-Christian. At least Harry Potter just leaves God out of it. The reader is free to associate or omit God as he or she chooses. Philip Pullman doesn't really leave room for that.

Foam Dream

Jonathan and I were sitting in a restaurant looking at the dessert menu, and he was exclaiming over how good all the desserts looked. I remember there were 10 desserts on the menu, and 7 of them (yes, I counted them) were bowls of foam topped with foam. So, there was chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream, banana pudding with whipped cream, and some kind of Napoleon (or millefeuille, as the French would say) with - you guessed it - whipped cream. I was upset by that, so I wrote a little review of the restaurant. Then, I looked over at the board that listed the daily specials, and they had tacked up a copy of my restaurant review!

I think this dream stems from the trauma of ordering a Cosmopolitan the other night, and it turning out to be a "Foamapolitan." I seriously had to drink it through a straw. Gross.

Analysis:
Dessert:
1) Dessert in a dream can symbolize a treat or treating yourself, indulgence, self-reward, or self-soothing. The "dessert course" of a meal could symbolize the end part of an interaction or phase, since dessert is served at the end of a meal. Eating dessert can also mean that you are actually hungry or craving sweets.
2) To see a tasty dessert in your dream, represents indulgence, celebration, reward, or temptation. You are enjoying the good things in life.

Food:
1) A quality associated with the food's texture, such as a banana representing slippery or making a misstep. For more clues, consider the context of the food (whether it's being eaten, tastes good or bad, is being served to you, etc.) and what comes to mind when you think of the specific type of food.
2) Food is symbolic of a large variety of things. It could symbolize pleasure and indulgence. To the perpetual dieter, the dream could have a "compensatory" function where the food that is denied to the individual during the day shows up in the dream state. Dreams could additionally symbolize physical, mental, spiritual and emotional nourishment.
3) To see food in your dream, represents physical and emotional nourishment and energies. The different types of food can symbolize a wide range of things. Generally, fruit is symbolic of sensuality. Frozen foods may imply your cold emotions and frigid ways. Eating certain foods refers to qualities that you need to incorporate within your own self.

Foam:
1) To see foam in your dreams represents wishes or unrealistic expectations

Writing:
1) Writing is a means of communication. In dreams it may be a symbol of communicating with others, but it mostly represents communication with oneself. If you are writing in a dream or reading someone else's writing, it may be an unconscious effort to become aware of forces or issues in life. Writing is a secondary form of communication. Speaking is more direct and less cumbersome for most. Thus, the written message in your dream may be disguised or may be less genuine than other forms of receiving information from the unconscious. You may be trying to figure something out and this might be the first step in that process.
2) To dream of writing, or to see another person writing in a dream, signifies a need to listen to one's inner voice for advice on dealing with a real life situation.
3) To dream that you are writing, signifies some sort of communication with someone or with your conscious mind. It also denotes a mistake that you have made.

Early Onset Alzheimer's

What a cheery title. My sister-in-law works for the Alzheimer's association, so I realize it's not a joking matter, but weird things have been going on with my brain recently. Like, a few weeks ago, I was walking my dog, and when I got to the back gate of my apartment, I just stood there blankly trying to remember the door code. The one that I punch in two or three times a day. I just couldn't remember it. I mashed a few random buttons before I decided to walk around to the front of the building and see if someone had accidentally left it open. At that exact moment, a drunk guy practically ran across the street to talk to me, holding his plastic cup of whatever it was he had become intoxicated on and began hitting on me. Now, this happens with some regularity on my street, not because I'm all that hot or anything (well, maybe a little bit because I'm hot), but because there are a lot of drunk men hanging around. Beer goggles and all that. More like malt whisky goggles. Anyway, I fended him off by telling him my dog was mean (which is true) and mentioning my husband. It's amazing that even drunk, semi-homeless men respect the sanctity of marriage, but they really do.

So that event was weird with the forgetting of the door code, but weirder was that last night I was trying to use my microwave, and I was just standing in front of it, completely lost as to how it worked. I read once that the difference between normal "brainfarts" from something really serious like Alzheimer's is, for example, that everyone forgets their keys - that's completely normal and everyone does it, sometimes multiple times a day. You should get worried if you look down at your keys, and you don't know what they're used for. I don't feel a really need to worry about that because I know what microwaves are for: microwaves are for heating up Hot Pockets. But I honestly had no idea which buttons to push to make it work. I actually had to read the words written on the buttons to figure it out. Weird.

Gray Hair

So, I have like 8 gray hairs now. On my head. Right in front. To my head's credit, they are actually a kind of pretty silver color. Thank you, follicles, for not just growing nasty Oliver Twist's gruel-colored gray hairs for me. Jonathan found a white hair on his chest this week. We are getting old. And the thing is, if nature just takes its course, and nothing tragic happens, we've still got like 60 years left. We're only 1/3 of the way through. And I ALREADY have gray hair??? Hmph. At least I'm not balding.

Aunt Ruth's Funeral

I went to my great Aunt Ruth's funeral this week. It was nice. I liked hearing stories about her because most of them included my grandmother, and I wish I had known her better.

I got to meet my two cousins Bob and Scott whom I had never met before, and they were really nice. I am constantly surprised by the lack of Black Sheep in my family. We all seem to have turned out pretty well.

The highlight of the trip (well, there were two) was that I got to see my friend Sarah in Little Rock. I hardly ever get to see her anymore, so I was really excited that we were able to eat lunch together. Here is a picture of us from a while back:

The second highlight was that on the way home, my mom and I stopped by the old family cemetery and on the way kind of stumbled across another cemetery where I was pretty sure some of our relatives had been buried, and their gravestones were totally there! I was very happy to find them. They are practically unreadable now, so I am glad I got pictures before they completely fade away.

Of course, I forgot my digital camera, so I had to use my mom's old-timey camera (what do you even call cameras that aren't digital? Analog? Film? I have no idea). Now I have to wait until she gets them developed. What a long way we have come from the days where I would pick up my camera, notice there were 20 pictures already taken on the roll of film, and I would have no idea what was on there. It was like a little surprise party every time I got pictures developed. I kind of miss that.

New Blog

I started this one at my non-myspace friends' request. I will probably post all the old ones here, too, since I just started blogging like 2 weeks ago. So, there you go.