Plum Creek

Ok, I want to go live on the prairie. In Minnesota, specifically, in exactly the year in which Laura was 7. Everything delights her so much. Well "everything" is 1) the natural world, which mainly consists of Plum Creek and 2) increasing material acquisition. That chapter when they move out of the dug-out to the new house is so rapturous- the real hinges and the glass windows and the two stories and the new stove and all. And pretty much all I remembered about this book from the first few times I read it was the amazing button string that they make for Carrie- Ma had been saving buttons since she was a little girl, and her mother before her had saved buttons as well, and they all went into the making of the amazing Christmas button string. I guess there's not really any way to go back to the world of no readily available consumer goods, unless I moved to southeast Asia or something. But in any case it seems sort of contrived to inflict poverty on yourself just so you will be more excited about increasing wealth. And it's not really a question of poverty anyway, but of living in a world almost empty but for the waving prairie grass, so that you would really have the chance to see a stick of candy for the first time, or nor know what a party was until you were first invited to one at the age of 8, or be delighted with a new dress because the sum total of dresses that you'd seen in your life was pretty small. Oh course, increasing material wealth is not generally considered to be the most noble goal in life anyway, or the best way to achieve happiness, but all I'm saying is it seems pretty good for Laura and Mary.
Actually I just came to the part where their whole crop is eaten by grasshoppers and they can't pay for the amazing new house, but hardships just heighten the satisfaction of success.

Items of interest

1) Jack got his driver's license today, just barely- apparently he was "palming the wheel."
2) My suspicions were true- now that I turned in my Hatjig paper the things that were fascinating as procrastination are very boring as real entertainment.
3) Greg e-mailed me a picture of Beyer as an early birthday present, and every time my mouse approaches that message the picture flashes up in creepy almost-subliminal fashion.
4) My mother just got a call from the Mathematics Association of America, informing her that she won her election as the national "first vice-president." Jack wanted to know why they had never had one before, but apparently the title is just differentiated from the "second vice-president."
5) I remembered that I really like watching tennis.
6) I can't watch any more CMT, it's too awful. How can they call that country? Emerson Drive I'm finding especially obnoxious.
7) My cats will not sit in a sink.
8) Well I ain't going to work tomorrow, and I may not work next day. No I ain't going to work tomorrow, for it be a wet rainy day.
9) Actually it's not rainy, those are just the words of the song. It's humid and hazy; the mountains look disgusting through the yellow-y soup.
10) I'm reading On the Banks of Plum Creek. Good old Laura and Mary. I want to go live in their dugout and spend all day playing with the reeds in the creek. Just as long as no one tries to go around the bend to the watering hole, as they have been strictly forbidden to do.
11) I see that Latvia has just had a presidential election. I tried to read about it, but due to weird-consonant overload I was unable to do so. I just hope someone is looking out for the interests of Latvian butter. Is Gita still over there? She'll straighten them out if they try to mess with that butter. Almost like ice cream. Unsalted.

WHO finally finished her paper, albeit at a very low level of quality, a mere 9 days after it probably should have been turned in?

Me, that's who.

psuedo-deep ponderation

What if you had to include parenthetical citations with everything you said? How much of what we say is made up when we pretend it comes from reputable sources, and how much do we pretend we've made up when it's really something we read? When's the last time someone really said something original? I don't mean in an original way, or referring to some superficially unique situation, but involving some actual new perception about the nature of the universe. Do really influential ideas, the kind we don't usually realize we have, originate with any one person? Did someone, one day, say "You know, I bet that the human person is divided into a body and a soul" or "Hey, I think the world is based on a dualistic system of good and evil" or "I really don't think that there's such a thing as good and evil" or "There is a value to personal freedom"? I mean, people have said those things of course, but was there ever a point at which the idea was truly original? And do those things usually arise in large groups simultaneously, due to similar circumstances, or was there a first person?

anthropological research

Is this not a cutting board?
Yes this is a cutting board.
Is it not both short and long?
Yes it is both short and long.
Short and long, cutting board-
Oh my pretty, oh my pretty,
oh my pretty cutting board!

Junx

1) Man, I be writtin' dis paper, and it is not proceeding in a timely manner, 'cause I don't be knowin' nuthin. Like, how you gonna be translatin' спас в силах?
2) I'm jealous of Greg's awesome-sounding Trans-siberian railroad journey.
3) I just saw Bon Jovi on CMT. Something is wrong with this.
4) Your mom's face is a mandorla.
5) A very loud group of schoolchildren are walking by under my window. I disapprove. Off with their heads. Let them eat cake. Should be seen and not heard. Now there are sirens. Peace and quiet, that's all I want, just peace and quiet, you'd think it wouldn't be too much to ask for people to have medical/conflagrant/criminal emergencies at a more respectful volume. Arg and humph. Bah humbug.

reply from Life cereal

Susanna:

We're glad to know you and several of your friends enjoy Life Cereal every morning in the dining hall at your college.

One of the brightest spots in our work week is receiving comments like yours. We have ways of measuring success, but none of them are as satisfying as hearing directly from you. Please be assured that we will always do our best to produce high-quality products that you will enjoy.

We appreciate your interest in our product, Susanna, and thank for taking the time to contact us.

Geri
Quaker Consumer Response

Is there a mention of my poetical genius, not to mention offers to supply me with unlimited amounts of cereal? No, no there is not. To be fair, the message they received I don't believe included the original spacing, so it all just looks odd and ungrammatical.

Spent 9 hours today babysitting a 20-month old child. He's about the sweetest child alive but is lacking in language skills, making for a sort of silent day. Well actually I talked to him a lot. And sang him Eagles songs. He didn't seem to notice. I want to be as totally engrossed as he is by walking around a house in circles picking things up and putting them in my mouth, shaking them, and throwing them on the ground again. He thought it was all soooooo hilarious. He also found lying on his back chewing on his toes to be rather engrossing. I would say "oh, those were the days," but I don't think any child but him has ever been that happy. Unfortunatly it's partly because of developmental disorders.

Also, let it be noted that I resent Ms. Mayer's suggestion that the quanitity of my posts corresponds to some dirth of quality. I've got it all.