I've been studying like mad for a while now, since my big test is on Saturday.  I've been reading between 150 to 250 pages a day most days, striving to read carefully and taking notes all the while.  I've been having mishmash dreams in which my brain plays with all of the information I've shoved into it during the day, turning images around like puzzle pieces to see how they'll fit.  They usually don't.  I've had a few stress nightmares but they haven't been nearly as bad as other periods, for which I'm grateful.  But I've also been taking a little time for myself to relax, or what passes for relaxation in my current state.  I took yesterday off because I just couldn't read any more.  Today, I took extra time to breathe before diving in.

In the middle of my studies I got up for a little break and while washing my hands, I saw a silver glint in my hair.  That's right.  I noticed my first gray hair today.  On one hand, it's in a sea of my usual dark brown, medium brown, and red mixture that's pretty thick, so it isn't easy to spot.  I thought I'd seen it a few times before but could never single it out.  Today I managed to get it on its own - a long strand that's silver at the top and brown toward the bottom.  I gaped at it.  I had my boyfriend come in to check and make sure I wasn't seeing a blonde-ish hair or something.  Of course, he laughed at me, since he started seeing grey early.  I called my mother to tell her and she laughed, probably more due to my reaction than anything else.  I've been too superstitious to pull it out.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but it was a bit of a shock.  My mental image of myself is dominated by my dark hair and to think that one day it might be different, without my intervention, is difficult.  After a bit of reading, I know I shouldn't be too worried.  Grey hair is based on genetics and while people in my family do get gray in their hair, it tends to come later in life and does not take over completely.  It also tends to look good.  But it's still a little disconcerting and I hope that in a few days, I'll stop looking for it.

Okay, here's the situation:

I'm going to be graduating in about a month from now.  I only get five tickets to the ceremony and they're pretty much reserved, but I'd like to have a lunch with a decent group of people (right now I'm thinking 15-20).

I'd like for the lunch to be on June 7, which is a Saturday, between 2 and 3 in the afternoon.  I'd also like the location to be in Glendale, Burbank, or Pasadena.  But I'm not yet sure where to go.  I don't want the prices to be astronomical but I'd like to avoid the utterly run of the mill.  So what I'm asking is for suggestions.  I know that some of you visit different places than I do, and I might be forgetting good spots.  I need to come up with a place fairly soon so I can send out invitations.

Help?

I cannot bear the thought of Patrick Swayze suffering pancreatic cancer.  I just can't.  I nearly burst into tears over the paper I was writing when I found out and for the longest time I could hear him singing "She's Like the Wind" in my head.  I grew up watching him, admiring him, loving him like the rest of the girls near my age; it was one of the few things I seemed to share with them.  He's always given me a special feeling, and I don't want him to die.  I don't care how juvenile it sounds.  I only hope he knows how much he's affected people by dancing across their dreams.

Chief Marie Smith Jones, the last native speaker of Eyak, died today.   What I liked best about her obituary is that it is fully aware of the sadness that comes with losing a language that a people once shared, but it is determined to pay homage to a "fiercely, fiercely, fiercely independent" woman.  With little word choices and phrases, the personal force of the Chief leaks through.  Unlike a lot of obituaries, this one has undertones.  I think it's fair to say I might have liked the Chief a good deal. 

When I first saw Heath Ledger, I paused.  I watched him.  And in a short period of time (during which he did Roar, A Knight's Tale, and The Patriot), I became convinced that I was watching someone special.  I tried to tell someone yesterday that Heath had "it," that indefinable something that Hollywood claims to want, because it makes movies more interesting to watch.  He also had talent that leaked through even in such a quirky piece as A Knight's Tale.  It wasn't just that he could hold a lead character.  There were hidden qualities in him, in his acting, waiting to come out.  So I watched for his name and when he won acclaim, I was glad.  I looked forward to seeing him again, and again and again - but I thought it would be in new films, in new TMZ paparazzi footage outside restaurants, in new award shows.  I had no idea that I would be left to vainly seek him through film so soon, left to cover the same ground aimlessly.  I'm glad that his image was captured at all - a hundred years ago, his talent could not have been saved in film - but it's been changed for me.  There will be a sense of sadness and regret, no matter how small, even at his happiest roles, and I'll always wonder what he might have been if he hadn't been found dead at 28.  Like Brandon Lee all over again, and I still sigh about him when I think of him.

I found a journal theme that I like so I've put it up, even though the graphic is of the city of Houston.  It was the one I liked best out of the other city-based themes (Sidney, Kiev, Portland, everything it seemed but Los Angeles).  So maybe now that everything is lighter and brighter around here, I'll want to post more.

On a more serious note, I am refiguring this journal so that anything really personal is for friends only.  I know that my students and future employers might be able to find their way here if they tried, so I have to keep that in mind.  It's better to start now, while I have a bit of time to put everything in order.  With that said, I am not hiding or deleting every post that might have cussing in it.  This is still a personal space outside of my professional workplace.  I might say things here that I would never say at work or at an otherwise formal occasion, but they won't breach any agreements I've made and they'll be confined to this pixelated world, away from the classroom.  I have an obligation to put my best face forward for my job, but I have a right to express myself on my own time.  If you want a more professionalized view of me, check here.

I woke up at about 5 AM today.  I'd just been dreaming about a big building that had shattered windows.  It was partially gutted so you could see inside of it, where there were worm-like things gently flailing and some kind of pinkness to the walls.  The building pulsed softly against a dark and stormy sky; the whole neighborhood was in a state of brokenness and ruin.  Dream-logic told me that the fleshy protrusions were villi and that the building was like a giant, convoluted intestine interior, digesting the souls of the people who worked there.  It was as if an episode of the X-Files that I watched recently (Folie a Deux) merged with a ctiy-based roleplaying book I've been reading (Damnation City) into one hell of an image.   Wonder if  I'll ever be able to use it somehow, in some game or other...

On the brighter side, my cough is not as bad, my congestion is fading, my head is no longer feeling like it needs to depressurize, and I can taste a decent amount as my sense of smell is returning. 

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper, but I'll reuse gift bags sometimes.

2. Real tree or artificial? Artificial, because we live in an apartment with no room for a tree and two cats who wouldn't leave it alone if we got a real one.  My mom always put up artificial trees that were cute while I was growing up; she gave me a snowman that glows different colors this year.  My dad always had to get the biggest tree that would fit in his living room, which had a ceiling that was higher than usual.

3. When do you put up the tree? After I get out of class generally

4. When do you take the tree down? A bit after New Years.

5. Do you like eggnog? It's okay.


6. Favourite gift received as a child? I got plenty of great gifts as a kid, so none of this "favorite" bullshit.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? No and I never have.

8. Hardest person to buy for? People in my boyfriend's family.

9. Easiest person to buy for? My mom.  You ask her what she wants and she doesn't beat around the bush telling you.

10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Dunno.  Generally I've been happy with my gifts.  The things that sucked tended to be events, like the temper tantrums my dad would have over the holiday, or not being able to spend a lot of Christmases with my mom because she had to work.

11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Sometimes both, sometimes neither.  This year I did physical cards but most of them I didn't have to mail because either my mom or I were able to hand-deliver them.  (And I just realized I forgot to give infomom her card!  She was just here!  Dammit!)

12. Favourite Christmas Movie? It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Carol (black and white, Alastair Sim's version), and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? As soon as I can think of it, usually late November/early December.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Sure, but not often.  If I can't use something and there's no way I can take it back, why should it go to waste?

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? The usual roast beast and accoutrements. 

16. Clear lights or coloured on the tree? Colored lights!

17. Favourite Christmas song? I like a lot of them; don't have a favorite.  "O Come All Ye Faithful" is beautiful, "Carol of the Bells" has an underlying solemn sound that gets me.

18. Travel for Christmas or stay at home? I tend to visit my boyfriend's family now during Christmas.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? No, but then I have to count the 7 sins on my fingers to get them all.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Either way, or nothing, it's all good.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Eh, Christmas day is fine, once everyone feels like getting up; I've never been much of a morning person.  I have pictures from one of the few Christmases my parents spent married, when I was two, I think.  My dad made me get up at midnight between Christmas Eve / Day so I could open presents, but I was two and couldn't have given a damn if I tried.  So I cried and my dad railed, and my mom shot him death looks in every picture.  Priceless.  Now of days I end up opening most of my Christmas presents during the gift exchange on my birthday, with a few presents left over for Christmas Day, and nobody forces me to get up like it just can't wait a few more hours.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? The increase in traffic.

23. What I love most about Christmas? Making people happy, seeing and hearing from folks, great food, time off from school, colder weather, and presents.

24. What I love least about Christmas? A lot of times I get down around this time of year because of old things that haunt me, and I have to fight extra hard to be happy.  I wish that wouldn't happen and I'm glad it's been kept at bay this year.

 

Well, I'm so congested that I can't smell or taste.  My ears haven't popped yet but when they do, it'll be a relief. 

I just got my grade for the class I finished two weeks ago and it's an A-.  That's the first A- I've gotten since...2004.  It also breaks my running 4.0. 

I'm really trying to figure out if I should be upset about that of if, perhaps, it's a good thing.  I mean, I worked really hard for that class like I do for all of my classes but it was not my best seminar paper (though I put a lot of work into it, as well).  I guess I could try to argue it up but is that really necessary?

Is a 3.977 the end of the fucking world?  I mean, I get A's because *I* want them.  I set the standard.  So am I really going to treat an A- like some kind of failure? 

Right now, I don't have the energy to feel much one way or the other.  But when I've mended enough, I want to look back at this post before I go off the deep end.  It's not an F.  It's not a C-, or a B-.  An A is an A is an A.  No one else expects half as much out of me as I do and let's be honest - I don't always give myself a fair shake.

I haven't been to Disneyland in something like six years, and before that I hadn't been in several years. I went all the time when I was a kid but growing up in Southern California tends to do that to you. I usually enjoyed myself a good deal for a decent amount of the time. The two major roadblocks to enjoyment were my dad and exhaustion.

Whenever my dad took us to Disneyland, he became like the ultimate kid. He'd rush us from ride to ride and wouldn't lose energy at all. We always went on weekends (the most crowded times) and there was no such thing as the FastPass system so lines were just long and there was no way around it for the major rides. After a while though my dad was bound to have one of his temper tantrums. This usually got bad toward the end of the day. He always wanted to stay till closing but by that point his wife, my half brother and half sister and I were all exhausted. We wanted nothing more than to have been in bed a few hours before. So he would rail at us for not having fun.

Well, my dad wasn't a part of Disneyland yesterday; no other adult worked out the details or drove me anywhere. I got some free tickets from some excellent friends of mine and since Valefor's now out of work, we went. The drives over and back were pretty decent and the huge parking structure they have is so damned organized it amazed me. That structure wasn't there the last time I went (then again, neither was California Adventure) but they still have the trams that lead you to the park. They even sound the same.

We decided to try out California Adventure first since neither of us had been there and we had tickets that let us into both parks. We also found out that it was closing at 6, so we figured we'd do everything there first and then go into Disneyland. The new park has some almost carnival-like rides (like the swings that are rasied up in the air, and a ferris wheel) but we weren't very interested in those.

The real gems of the park are California Screamin' and flying over California. The California Screamin' ride is one of the few real rollercoasters on the property and it's pretty neat. It has bursts of speed where you don't expect them, some decent drops, one loop, and it doesn't seem too short. The flying over California ride did seem too short but was very, very cool while it lasted. The people in front of us had just gotten done and got right back on. It's like Star Tours in that it's all based on illusion; unlike Star Tours its motion isn't violent. Even though I can have problems with heights, once I realized how close the floor we were going to remain, I was perfectly content. And it was beautiful!

We had lunch at this lovely Italian place and could have had all the wine we wanted to drink, provided we felt like paying wine prices. It was nice to have the option, though. There weren't a whole lot of rides in the new park but it was cute and we were glad we tried it out. We were happy to go back into the old park, which I remembered like the back of my hand. Valefor mentioned that the park used to seem so huge to him; when we were kids, it was a real trek from one side to the other. Now it seems smaller all around - the lot isn't as huge, a lot of the rides have smaller seating, you get the idea. We weren't exactly like Gulliver but we felt the difference. We also both noticed that the Matterhorn wasn't as fast as we remembered (whereas the Peter Pan ride was way shorter than I recalled).

One of the things that was most awesome was that I got to show Valefor some rides for the first time. He'd never been on the Indiana Jones ride (which is okay), but he'd also never been on Star Tours or Space Mountain. Star Tours is always cute and a little brief, but to be able to see his first reaction to Space Mountain was perfect. For the record, since I first tried it out, Space Mountain has been my favorite ride in the park. It still is, with California Screamin' coming in a close second. But it's always as good and fast and neat-looking as I remember. The first time I went up the ramp into a room full of swirling stars I just gaped at it, and it still makes me happy. Valefor had a lot of fun on it, too.

We only had to get one FastPass the whole day since the lines were usually short. (This was the first time that Valefor had seen the FastPass system; he liked how it got us to the front of the line so smoothly.) Most of the rides now have displays that estimate how long the wait is, which is a great new addition. Going on a Thursday and getting started around noon worked like a charm for avoiding the crowds. It also helped that I remembered where everything was, and I guess I felt a bit like my dad in that I had all kinds of energy. Valefor said he wasn't used to having to keep up with me but I buzzed around the park smiling for most of the day.

Though we stopped to have something refreshing to drink, we only ate at the park once; we just weren't hungry. I wish I had been so I could have gotten a funnel cake, but oh well. We had to use some sunblock but not a whole lot and for most the day there was just a tiny hint of chill in the air. It got cold at dark, though.

I did get to rediscover why I hate Disneyland parades. I have never been a parade person and so many of their parades cut the park in half, blocking my ability to get to rides. It's always frustrating to have to deal with the walls of people and the slow moving veins of traffic that don't really go anywhere until the parade is completely done in that section. I really miss the Skyway sometimes because it would take you over the whole park and bypass all of that crap. We did manage to get to Star Tours just in time for a very short wait. We would've capped the day with Space Mountain but it was closed. We noticed that some of the signs said that they were going to close some of the rides early for the fireworks. They never did that when I was a kid and I didn't like the idea at all. Not everyone is interested in the fireworks and while some folks hang around to watch, the others could be merrily dashing from one ride to the next. But it was okay, because we were exhausted anyway.

We had to wait in line to get onto the trams; there was a decent crowd of people already gathered to go back to the parking structure. We were so tired that there was no way we were going to try to walk it and it's set far enough away that it would have been a rather decent walk. The folks right in front of us had a big stroller and when they saw they wouldn't fit, they let us go ahead of them. All in all we were obscenely grateful to be sitting down in the car and heading home. I think this was the most fun I've ever had at Disneyland and I know a lot of it was due to Valefor being with me.

P.S. - Thank you again Infomom! 

These are the top 106 books most often marked as "unread" by LibraryThing's users (as of today). As usual, bold what you have read, italicize those you started but couldn't finish, and strike through what you couldn't stand. Add an asterisk to those you've read more than once. Underline those on your to-read list.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (149) - time constraints; I was enjoying it
Anna Karenina (132)
Crime and punishment (121)
Catch-22 (117)
One hundred years of solitude (115)
Wuthering Heights (110)
The Silmarillion (104)
Life of Pi : a novel (94)
The name of the rose (91)
Don Quixote (91)
Moby Dick (86)
Ulysses (84)
Madame Bovary (83)
The Odyssey (83)
Pride and prejudice (83)
Jane Eyre (80)
A tale of two cities (80)
The brothers Karamazov (80)
Guns, Germs, and Steel: the fates of human societies (79)
War and peace (78)
Vanity fair (74)
The time traveler's wife (73)
The Iliad (73)
Emma (73)
The Blind Assassin (73)
The kite runner (71)
Mrs. Dalloway (70)
Great expectations (70)
American gods (68)
A heartbreaking work of staggering genius (67)
Atlas shrugged (67)
Reading Lolita in Tehran : a memoir in books (66) - an excellent book!
Memoirs of a Geisha (66)
Middlesex (66)
Quicksilver (66)
Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West (65)
The Canterbury tales (64) - again, time constraints; this is an awesome book
The historian : a novel (63)
A portrait of the artist as a young man (63)
Love in the time of cholera (62)
Brave new world (61)
The Fountainhead (61)
Foucault's pendulum (61)
Middlemarch (61)
Frankenstein (59) - an excellent book!
The Count of Monte Cristo (59)
Dracula (59)*
A clockwork orange (59)
Anansi boys (58)
The once and future king (57)
The grapes of wrath (57)
The poisonwood Bible : a novel (57)
1984* (57) - an excellent book!
Angels & demons (56)
The inferno (56)
The satanic verses (55)
Sense and sensibility (55)
The picture of Dorian Gray* (55) - an excellent book!
Mansfield Park (55)
One flew over the cuckoo's nest (54)
To the lighthouse (54)
Tess of the D'Urbervilles (54)
Oliver Twist (54)
Gulliver's travels (53)
Les misérables (53) - so fucking depressing
The corrections (53)
The amazing adventures of Kavalier and Clay (52)
The curious incident of the dog in the night-time (52)
Dune (51)
The prince (51)
The sound and the fury (51)
Angela's ashes : a memoir (51)
The god of small things (51)
A people's history of the United States : 1492-present (51)
Cryptonomicon (50)
Neverwhere (50)
A confederacy of dunces (50)
A short history of nearly everything (50)
Dubliners* (50)
The unbearable lightness of being (49)
Beloved (49)
Slaughterhouse-five (49)
The scarlet letter* (48)
Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation (48)
The mists of Avalon (47)
Oryx and Crake : a novel (47)
Collapse : how societies choose to fail or succeed (47)
Cloud atlas (47)
The confusion (46)
Lolita* (46) - an excellent book!
Persuasion (46)
Northanger abbey (46)
The catcher in the rye (46)
On the road (46)
The hunchback of Notre Dame (45)
Freakonomics : a rogue economist explores the hidden side of everything (45)
Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance : an inquiry into values (45)
The Aeneid (45)
Watership Down (44)
Gravity's rainbow (44)
The Hobbit (44)
In cold blood : a true account of a multiple murder and its consequences (44) - an excellent book!
White teeth (44)
Treasure Island (44)
David Copperfield (44)
The three musketeers (44)
Cold mountain (43)
Robinson Crusoe (43)
The bell jar (43)
The secret life of bees (43)
Beowulf : a new verse translation (43) (i'm guessing this is the heaney, which i OUGHT to read)
The plague (43)
The Master and Margarita (43)
Atonement : a novel (42)
The handmaid's tale (42)
Lady Chatterley's lover (41)
Underworld (41)
Little Women (41)
A brief history of time : from the big bang to black holes (41)
Stardust (41)
Jude the obscure (41)
The chronicles of Narnia (40)
Possession : a romance (40)
Fast food nation : the dark side of the all-American meal (40)
Never let me go (40)
The trial (40)
Kafka on the shore (40)
Bleak House (40)
Sons and lovers (40)
Alias Grace (39)
The Arabian nights (39)
Baudolino (39)
Confessions (39)
The great Gatsby (39)
To kill a mockingbird (39)
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Gla… (39)
The alchemist (39)
Candide, or, Optimism (39)
Snow falling on cedars (39)
Midnight in the garden of good and evil : a Savannah story (39)
Midnight's children (39)
White Oleander (39)
A passage to India (39)
The elegant universe : superstrings, hidden dimensions, and … (39)
The house of the seven gables (39)
The lovely bones : a novel (38)
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (38)
The amber spyglass (38)
The histories (38)
Swann's way (38)
The shadow of the wind (38)
Fahrenheit 451* (38)
Good omens (38)
Running with scissors : a memoir (38)
Everything is illuminated : a novel (38)
The divine comedy (38)
Paradise lost (38)
The English patient (38)
Uncle Tom's cabin (38)
The Origin of Species (37)
The plot against America (37)
The history of Tom Jones, a foundling (37)
Silas Marner (37)
The hours (37)
Prodigal summer : a novel (37)
The bonesetter's daughter (37)
Doctor Zhivago (37)
The shipping mews (36)
The phantom of the Opera (36)
The portrait of a lady (36)
Blink : the power of thinking without thinking (36)
Heart of darkness (36)
The Robber Bride (36)
The last of the Mohicans (36)
The age of innocence (36)
The system of the world (35)
Tropic of cancer (35)
The mayor of Casterbridge (35)
The Gormenghast novels (35)
The gunslinger (35)
The golden compass (35)
The Republic of Plato (35)
The remains of the day (35)
Cat's eye (35)
Eragon (35)
A game of thrones (35)
Sophie's world : a novel about the history of philosophy (34)
The island of the day before (34)
The good earth (34)
A prayer for Owen Meany : a novel (34)
The devil in the white city : murder, magic, and madness at … (34)
A farewell to arms (34)
East of Eden (34)
The book thief (34)
Animal farm : a fairy story (34)

Okay, I need help making a decision and I don't have much time left to hem and haw.

My first high school reunion is coming up. It's $89 per person until Sept. 28, at which point the price is $100 per person to attend. This might not sound like a lot to some folks but I'm still in college, so it's a lot for me. At that price, it's unlikely that my boyfriend will want to attend so I'd be going alone. They also specify cocktail attire, which means I'll probably have to buy something new, since my clothes aren't typically party-wear. So that's $200 total to go to this thing.

I should have made some comment about whether or not I want to go. As I've said elsewhere, I actually enjoyed a good portion of high school. It didn't go sour for me until the later half of senior year. There are people I'd like to see again, if they show up. And it's not like I've been sitting on my hands these last few years; it may not matter to anyone else, but I've got two degrees and I'm toward the end of my third.

So I have a couple of days to decide - should I stay or should I go? What do you think?

I have one remaining grandparent, a well-lived and sassy woman who just turned 80 years old last week. I am so grateful to have her alive and well that it goes beyond words. I know she's been having a hard time lately, though, since her husband died earlier this year. Her social security's been cut, she's too old to really work much, and she's had to move out of the place they used to live in. I know she worries and I feel bad that none of her descendants are able or willing to take her in. One of my uncles helps her a lot, for which I'm glad, but it's not like my family is rich. It makes me feel bad but she outright says that she knows we can't host her; she doesn't try to make anyone feel guilty.

I was forcibly reminded of her, though, while reading this story, a Church Mouse, for my newest class at school. While I'd read something by the author before, I'd never seen this story. It's a good one, and I actually enjoyed reading it. It's also poignant - I think I might add it to the stories I think of around Christmas. I'm going to print it out and send it to my grandmother, who likes to read. I just wish I could share more with her than words and intangible things like love.

If anyone's in or near North Hollywood and wants a nice older cat, I saw one today.  Beautiful eyes, a Persian, and pretty friendly.  The owner's son is allergic and she needs to find the cat a home.  She can be reached at 818-753-7577 if you're interested.

I love the horoscope generator!

Some gems:

It's time to plunge into a rancid lake of YOU!
Tell that person you love them. You know who we're talking about. Wait! No, not him! Stop you fool!

I first discovered Luciano Pavarotti when I was about 10, during Christmastime. I was at my father's house as I was forced to be nearly every holiday due to custody arrangements and my mother's work schedule. I tended to feel like the outsider there, the only one with dark hair and eyes, the kid who lived in an apartment while my father bragged about his house. The holidays were usually a bittersweet experience, one minute excellent food, the next minute the torture of my father's outbursts. He was generally in better spirits during the holiday season but that didn't mean he stopped being an asshole completely. One Christmas, he started badmouthing my mother at the dinner table in front of all assembled. I told him it wasn't fair for him to talk about her when she wasn't there to say anything, and he told me to shut up. So I got up and when he called for me to sit back down, RIGHT NOW, I believe I told him to go to hell. If I didn't say those exact words, the sentiment was behind them.

Every holiday season during the day, while the adults were cooking and setting up the house, the television was on. Most of the time it was boring sports stuff playing to an empty room, but one holiday he had an operatic Christmas special on. It was an anomaly. I was fully prepared to pass on by when I was given pause by the most beautiful, sonorous voice curling out of the speaker and into my father's living room, of all places. I remember that voice made me stop in my tracks and just watch the program. I wasn't used to liking operatic singing. I wasn't used to being so affected by it. But for a time I forgot I was sitting in my father's house, which I thought I hated but I also loved, and I watched Luciano Pavarotti sing. And I paid special attention when they told me his name.

I never forgot him after that. I watched for him in the news. I listened to him some, too, though his voice could be like a rich dessert - too fine for gluttonous consumption. I don't know why, but I held a special place in my heart for him. When I heard he had cancer, I rooted for him. I was hoping he'd pull through and sing abroad again.

I suppose he'll sing forever now. The miracle of modern technology. Imagine, imagine if we had lost his voice with his body. How many voices have we lost till now?

Good night, Mr. Pavarotti. You made one girl's Christmas a happier time, and that's saying something.

I know I don't use this thing that much. Some part of me rebels against it. But sometimes it's difficult to deal with everything in your own head. I need to see it on paper. I need to tangle with it in ink.

I'm scheduled to take yet another graduate course in something I know little about, but the course looks interesting. I've had some success with this method, as when I took a course on the sublime and another one on diasporas in literature. My instructor for the course on the sublime thought for sure that seeing Immanuel Kant on the reading list would scare most of us off, but the course remained full throughout the quarter. This try-it-and-see method's not always the easiest way to go about it, though, since I have to quickly research the background that I lack.

At any rate, a friend suggested that I might want to try a - gasp! - undergraduate course for once. I haven't taken one in a couple years; I've almost forgotten what they were like. But whenever this friend gives me advice, I listen and give it deep consideration. So I found two courses that looked like they'd be fun, even if they are scheduled for two days a week instead of one. The problem is, undergrad instructors don't have to post their syllabi before the quarter begins. I have no idea what the reading will be or how the courses are going to be structured. It's also been years since I've taken a written final exam, you see.

I don't have much time to decide in. Do I stay with the tried and true - an instructor I've had before, a graduate course with the usual reading and final paper? Or do I try out an undergrad course with a new instructor, and perhaps more talking monkey work than I've had to do in like two years?

Hmmmm...

These were the rules:

Pick your birth month.
- Strike out anything that doesn't apply to you.
- Bold the five - ten that best apply to you.
- Copy to your own journal, with all the twelve months under an lj-cut.

But I'm not going to do it that way. Fuck the other months, and fuck the bolding and striking out. I'm going to go about it this way:

DECEMBER:
Loyal and generous: Even my friends become like family. I give what I can, but I don't have that much.

Sexy: I used to feel that way, whether or not I ever was.

Patriotic: I just did a post about this not too long ago. My patriotism isn't what it used to be.

Active in games and interactions: That depends on what you mean by active. If you mean involved, sure. If you mean physically active, then not really. A lot of astological stuff talks about how all Saggittarians love exercise. Well, I'm here to tell ya it ain't so.

Impatient and hasty: Oh yeah. My dad likes to say that the Army wore away whatever patience he had but I don't have that kind of excuse. I can be remarkably patient about some things, and probably remarkably impatient with others.

Ambitious: Hmm. Yes and no. Suffice to say that my ambitions tend to be relatively simple.

Influential in organizations: Me? Organizations? No.

Fun to be with: I have no fucking clue. I'd like to think so, but I'm not sure I want to be told if I'm not. =P

Loves to socialize: This much is so. I'll talk to anyone just about anywhere.

Loves praises: I don't handle praise as well as I used to.

Loves attention: I suppose this one is true.

Loves to be loved: Who the fuck doesn't love to be loved? Honestly.

Honest and trustworthy: I used to set such a store by honesty and even bluntness. As time's gone on, I've come to respect other people's feelings a bit more. I can still sometimes be too blunt for people's tastes without being able to stop myself, but there you go.

Not pretending: I'm not sure that anyone can say they're not pretending in some small way. Sometimes I feel like I'm pretending to be an adult. Other than that, though, I don't have the art to erect the masks I used to have.

Short tempered: See "Impatient" above.

Changing personality: Not that I know of, but perhaps others could be better judges here.

Not egotistic: My general level of self esteem is pretty low oftentimes. I just try to do the best I can, knowing that when it's all done, I'll feel like it wasn't enough.

Take high pride in oneself: See "Not egotistic" above.

Hates restrictions: This used to be more true than it is today. I've come to see the wisdom in some rules and restrictions. I've also come to see that we are all of necessity restricted.

Loves to joke: Does gallows humor count?

Good sense of humor: Oh man I cannot be the judge of this one. Everyone laughs at their own jokes.

Logical: I can be.

When I was small I used to look at the flag and feel a swelling surge of pride and love that sometimes made tears sting the backs of my eyes. I had a sense, some grand sense of my country that perhaps no country could live up to, and it could wash over me so strongly that it blocked out everything else. It was warm, comforting, unrefined, a childhood emotion that lasted some years.

I have not felt that way in a long time now. My feelings have been complicated, put upon, embittered, soured, and betrayed. The grand beliefs and hopes that I had have changed. No, they are not gone, nor is my love for my country depleted. It would be much simpler if it worked that way. Instead, my hopes are tempered by the slow pace of change, the brittle limits of general reality. My grand beliefs are tarnished by the bruising filth that comes with life and humanity. The quaint stories of the Indians and pilgrims were Crayola-colored lies. Columbus did not find a new world. There's a crack, a crack in everything, and sometimes ugliness pours through to soil the fluffy, sweet deceptions we feed our children as we were fed before them.

Perhaps it's for the best. Perhaps not.

When I see flags now, I remember how they used to make me feel and I wish I could feel that powerful pride again. The national anthem used to get me. Sometimes it still does. Hendrix's version always does.

But if there's anything that makes me feel strongly about my country, if there's anything that arouses fierce hope from the deepest part of my being - it's the legacy of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. He was murdered ten years before my birth. I have only known him in grainy grey films and scratchy vocal recordings, or through finely printed pages of his immaculately fashioned words, but I have loved the spirit of his work all of my life. No, he was not a saint. He had his weaknesses and sins like everyone else. I fully expect that when the National Archives release the FBI's wiretapped recordings of him in 2027, they'll be used to chisel the gold leaf from his image in the national heart. And why not? He doesn't belong in the rose-colored fantasy we paint for our own gratification.

Rev. King's legacy is a tremble of sound, a modulation of determined cadences, a swelling of our best desires for our country - for humanity at large. He belongs in our blood. He was not afraid to give his. If I could teach my students anything about him, it would be this: Rev. King showed us what ordinary people could do, and can do again. He is remembered for his considerable personal talents but he would not be remembered at all if he had been alone. Americans can be at their worst when working together, but they can also be at their best. Apathy will not sustain us forever and the work of equality and advancement for all is not finished.

We have done much, all things considered, but he believed we could be so much more.

I still believe that, too. Like a child, with tears behind my eyes, I believe.

Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I have a dream" speech
Rev. King's "Mountaintop" speech - delivered the night before he was killed.

A woman at my mother's park has been suffering from lung cancer for a while now. She's had chemo just to extend her life; she's never stopped smoking or slowed down, really. She's a nice woman overall and has had a good share of suffering. You can see it in her eyes. You can feel it coming from her.

She asked a neighbor to help her a couple of days ago and she looked so bad off that he called an ambulance. She's in ICU right now unable to breathe on her own and no one is yet sure she'll come through this most recent bad stretch. I signed made out a card to her today, already feeling solemn. Then my mother told me that the woman's patron saint is Saint Jude. Not a Catholic, I looked him up.

How much suffering must she have endured for the patron of desperate cases to be her saint?