pop-culture dictionary

Did you know about wordspy?

Favorites:
Fauxhawk
Squid squad
Crackberry <--Jess has one of these!
Cat typing (I'm on to you, Zuleika)
Quirkyalone
Hysterical realism (I agree with the bit about White Teeth)
Drunk dial
Weblish

and the whole list of verbed nouns.

Reminds me of junior year Rhetoric of Style with Dr. Fahnestock. Deeeeelicious.

Aaannnnd, don't miss the words about words section. Here's one I had forgotten about by Adrienne Rich:

"No one lives in this room
without confronting the whiteness of the wall
behind the poems, planks of books,
photographs of dead heroines.
Without contemplating last and late
the true nature of poetry. The drive
to connect. The dream of a common language."
—The Dream of a Common Language, 1978

November 2004 ins/outs

OUT: Dating
IN: Knitting!


You appear to be a Knitting Novice.
You might be just taking up the hobby and still
feel a bit intimidated by the whole process.
You might not know a purl from a knit stitch
and those cryptic codes that others call
"patterns" seem pretty intimidating,
but it's something you've been meaning to learn
and you are having fun trying.
http://marniemaclean.com


What Kind of Knitter Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

OUT: Buffalo Exchange
IN: E-bay!

OUT: Young Adult Literature
IN: Classics!

OUT: Crappy reality shows
IN: The OC, West Wing season 3, Hollywood Video "Library"

OUT: Moping
IN: Coping

I blame the lunar eclipse...

...for recent pyschotic behavior exhibited by myself, the plumbing, and certain individuals.

I'm going to be real quiet now and not make a move. And when Halloween comes, I'm going to hide in my apartment and turn off all the lights and pretend I'm not home.

I fought the plumbing

and (100 buckets of water &
two bottles of Draino later)
the plumbing won.

Dear Rilo Kiley,

What am I, 18?

First I got all teary-eyed when you played...

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
And crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really f*cking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems f*cking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
And you'll be better
You'll be smarter
More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all of your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy...

and then you were like

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

etc. etc. and I was like, ohmigod. And THEN you played

I'm a modern girl but I fold in half so easily
when I put myself in the picture of success
I could learn world trade
or try to map the ocean...

They say California is a recipe for a black hole
and I say I've got my best shoes on
I'm ready to go (ready to go)
ready to go...

and I just about melted.

I'm a fan for life.

(Or at least until my emotional maturity catches up with my age.)

shouldn't they be, like, curing cancer?

Thanks to science, it looks like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is not SO far-fetched after all...

where there's smoke...

If I said that the fire woke me up, I would be lying. I was already awake, tossing and turning and willing myself to fall asleep.

As it was, I heard the sirens through my open window (the bad kind of sirens--the ones that start out faint, get louder as they get nearer, and then suddenly stop), heard people yelling outside, and stepped out into billows of smoke rolling across our courtyard.

Most of my neighbors (weird fact: a majority are gay men) were already outside, staring at the commotion across the street. One lone cameraman (how did they find out so quickly??) darted between buildings, trying to get the best shot.

I've never seen anything like it. If I was lying awake waiting for a sign, this was it. But just like in Angels in America, I didn't ask for a sign, and I don't know what it's supposed to mean.

It could have been my apartment. That would have meant something. Something like "Dear Mary, why didn't you buy renter's insurance when I told you to? Start listening to me. -God."

In other news... handbags!

feedback, please

Dear people who know me/voices of experience,

Should I apply to a graduate program in:

a. education (such as this language and literacy program)

b. public policy

c. law

d. literature/creative writing (MFA, for example)

e. other

Please state, along with your answer, the reason for your choice.

I am leaning towards option A (something in education) because 1. I am over-qualified; 2. Potential job opportunities working for a school district/education policy non-profit; and 3. Technology in schools is an underused resource about to explode (imagine, for example, using weblog technology in an English classroom).

But, you know, deep down I just want to write poetry and read books.

Discuss.

weirdos

I returned home at 1am to a "gathering" in the courtyard outside my apartment.

"Hey!" yelled one of the men, as I rounded the corner.

"Hi," I replied.

"Ummm... we borrowed your chairs."

I looked to their collection of seating circled around the metal table. Two of the chairs looked quite familiar. A quick glance at my patio confirmed that they were, indeed, my chairs.

"We'll, umm, return them right now. We knocked."

As if this made it ok. I looked at the rug which had been thrown to the ground. I looked at my lit apartment, my cat crying in the wide window. They moved the chairs inside the gate and I locked it immediately.

"You know, I leave the gate unlocked because I assume that my own neighbors are going to respect my property."

There was no reply. I locked the door and closed the blinds tightly. Afterwards I heard them laughing outside.

Am I uptight, or, like, wtf?

"Wait. I thought you were going to be funny. Come on. Be funny."

WOW. Jon Stewart going on Crosstalk deserves a journalism award. Or a presidency. Almost reason enough to pay for cable. (Or buy his book.) His statement "I'm not going to be your monkey" reminds me of Harvey Pekar.

Highlights:

CARLSON: Wait, Jon, let me tell you something valuable that I think we do that I'd like to see you...

STEWART: Something valuable?

CARLSON: Yes.

STEWART: I would like to hear it.

CARLSON: And I'll tell you.

When politicians come on...

STEWART: Yes.

CARLSON: It's nice to get them to try and answer the question. And in order to do that, we try and ask them pointed questions. I want to contrast our questions with some questions you asked John Kerry recently.

STEWART: If you want to compare your show to a comedy show, you're more than welcome to.

CARLSON: No, no, no, here's the point.

STEWART: If that's your goal.

CARLSON: It's not.

STEWART: I wouldn't aim for us. I'd aim for "Seinfeld." That's a very good show.

*

STEWART: Now, this is theater. It's obvious. How old are you?

CARLSON: Thirty-five. STEWART: And you wear a bow tie.

CARLSON: Yes, I do. I do.

STEWART: So this is theater.

CARLSON: Now, let me just...

STEWART: Now, listen, I'm not suggesting that you're not a smart guy, because those are not easy to tie.

CARLSON: They're difficult.

STEWART: But the thing is that this -- you're doing theater, when you should be doing debate, which would be great.

BEGALA: We do, do...

STEWART: It's not honest. What you do is not honest. What you do is partisan hackery. And I will tell you why I know it.

CARLSON: You had John Kerry on your show and you sniff his throne and you're accusing us of partisan hackery?

STEWART: Absolutely.

CARLSON: You've got to be kidding me. He comes on and you...

STEWART: You're on CNN. The show that leads into me is puppets making crank phone calls. What is wrong with you?

*

STEWART: You know, the interesting thing I have is, you have a responsibility to the public discourse, and you fail miserably.

CARLSON: You need to get a job at a journalism school, I think.

STEWART: You need to go to one.

The thing that I want to say is, when you have people on for just knee-jerk, reactionary talk...

CARLSON: Wait. I thought you were going to be funny. Come on. Be funny.

STEWART: No. No. I'm not going to be your monkey.

Love Note

Bannanas [sic] are good
Apples are better
if u realy [sic] like me
please answer my letter

This confiscated note led to the annual mini-lesson on spelling *"banana" correctly. When I ask a class how they spell banana, it's almost always a 50/50 split between the double n and the correct spelling. Why is that?




*...because, you know, you never know when one's object of affection will reject the love poem due to poor spelling. I would.

You Know You're From Maryland When...

I was prepared to write this off as nonsense, but I have bolded the ones that are true.

*You know more than 10 people who own boats and they all park them at the same marina in Annapolis
*You can pronounce and spell "Pocomoke," "Mattaponi," "Accokeek," and "Havre de Grace"
*You prononce "Bowie" BOO-ie not BOW-ie or BAUW-ie
See!! Do you SEE, Lana?!?!
*1 hour is an easy commute to work
*You have more than three recipies for crabcakes
*French fries just don't taste right without Old Bay
*There are more than two crab places in your town
*Even your high school cafeteria made good crabcakes
*You got your first lacrosse stick before you were six years old
*You call all turtles "terrapins"
*You refer to your state as "Merlind"
*Your mother shops at Hecht's
*You still call Six Flags America "Adventure World", or even "Wild World"
*You still remember the Wild World commercial (Wild World's the cure for the summertime blues!)
*You can tell the difference between the smells of septic and marsh.
*You not only know how to eat hard crabs but you also know how to catch them, cook them and tell the males from the females.
Males have the Washington Monument on their bellies... or was that the females?
*You don't think that Assawoman Bay is a strange name for a body of water.
Not true, I always did.
*You know perfectly well why Rehoboth is called "Little San Francisco"
*M R Ducks makes perfect sense.
Not only that, but thanks to Mr. BOO-ie my high school math teacher, I use the phrase 'Are everybody's ducks in line?'
*So does C M Wangs.
*You think Salisbury is a big city.
*You think of dumplings as wet slippery squares of boiled dough.
*You and your boss take off of work when the fish are running or the ducks are flying in..
*You've eaten muskrat at a church dinner but think it's better the way you fix it.
*You think of "Dairy Queen" as a pageant title and not a place to get an ice cream.
*"Formal wear" is a ball cap, a flannel shirt and Timberlands.
*You still root for the Orioles even when they suck
*You'll never understand why tourists come to DC.
*When in Florida, you can only laugh when you see signs saying "Real Maryland Blue Crab Cakes!"
And gasp with dismay when they don't have Old Bay.
*You color with "Crowns", take a "Share" with "Wooter" and think the president lives in "Warshenton."
This is only true of the "crans"
*You know the difference between Glen Burnie ghetto and Catonsville ghetto.
One's outside Annapolis; the other Baltimore
*Your whole family lives within a 200 mile radius of your town.
*Dale Earnhardt's accident was a close personal loss to your father
Actually, ex-boyfriend.
*At least one man in your family is a waterman
*You plan for "The Festival" a year in advance.
*During the summer, you spend more time in Ocean City than at home.
*Margret Heater, Hedspace, Jepetto, Outside Joke and Mary Prankster are people you think are "Famous"
*Your radio dial is stuck on 99.1
No, but I did go to the HFStival three times
*You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Maryland.
Sigh.

a few recommendations

...to make up for a lack of news.

Saved!: Despite rotten reviews, I really loved this movie. Even Macaulay Culkin. Especially Macaulay Culkin. That's saying something.

Mighty Goods: A shopping blog from the witty mind behind Mightygirl. I want it all. Gift-givers, take note.

Online-boggle: (via bluishorange) expanding my 3-letter word vocabulary since September, 2004.

Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, by Nick Flynn: I could have bought it (and had it signed!) at Brazos Bookstore, but I thought, "nahh... I'll wait for it to come out in paperback." Days later, I couldn't get certain lines out of my head, especially the chapter "Same Again" which I heard in draft form at UMD three years ago. Halfway through.

and...

I am going to see Nick Flynn read tonight. He's reading from his new book, but I have always liked this poem.

Bag Of Mice


I dreamt your suicide note
was scrawled in pencil on a brown paperbag,
& in the bag were six baby mice. The bag
opened into darkness,
smoldering
from the top down. The mice,
huddled at the bottom, scurried the bag
across a shorn field. I stood over it
& as the burning reached each carbon letter
of what you'd written
your voice released into the night
like a song, & the mice
grew wilder.

effective delegation

So I have those two students who come "help" me "early" in the morning before school (I say "help" because they are not always helpful and I say "early" because I am not always early). Today, I handed one a pile of dialogue journals and said, "here--respond to these," because frankly, I get overwhelmed and he asks good questions.

"Um, ok, should I respond as you or as me?"
"As yourself. Or as 'a student'."

Just now, I looked at what he wrote, and had to laugh at how dead-on he captured the "teacher voice." Here's one journal:

Dear Ms. D,

Calvin and Hobbes were playing on there [sic: spelling word] tree house wen [sic: another SPELLING WORD!!!] the baby siter [sic of misspelled words] comes and tells Calvin to go to bed.... blah blah blah....

and Yonathan wrote:

Dear Walter,

Are you enjoying the book? Can you relate that to someone? I never had a baby siter. Do you think they're mean to kids? Sincerely, from a student

***

I wanted to write about the new Wilco album that I finally listened to all the way through. I like it better now than the initial listen, but I still think maybe he mixed up the first track and the last track by accident. Song #1 sounds like the end, and song #12 sounds like the beginning. Also, when I turned my car on in the middle of track #11, I thought it was the emergency broadcast system for about three minutes.

***

This weekend, I bought blank CDs (for me) and charcoals (for Jeff). Last night I graded and he sketched. Some trashy sitcom was on in the background, but neither of us paid attention. I was wading through the thorns and burns of misspelled words and lazy sentence structure, and he was shading a face. Tonight I'll knit. It's all so tactile.

well, THAT was impressive

I've never had a student actually self-inflict vomit to get out of a detention before, but I must say that after several rounds of dry heaving he produced quite a bit of stomach acid. I even (and this is very generous because NO ONE leaves the room during detention EVER) offered to let him get a drink of water, which he declined because he is a first class Jerk, capital J.

It was a landmark teaching day in another sense: I got called "Mom" for the first time. She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth and turned beet-red, but the damage was done. In that instant, I gained MAJOR blackmail material, and like seven gray hairs.