Discerning Cub Scout

On Monday, I went to a Memorial Day parade with Katie and her family (her mother, I think correctly, asserts that Memorial Day is the best parade--brief, candy, not too hot--rather than the fourth of July). Katie and I were bemoaning the fact that we didn't have young nieces and nephews to gather candy because people usually throw to the little 'uns. We didn't really want to make spectacles of ourselves, but consider--it's free candy! However, we were spared the dilemma because of the various boy/girl scout troops who did throw us the goods.

One of the little boys gleefully singing, "Get your candy from the candy man" gave us some suckers. My favorite, though, is the cub scout (five or six year old cutie) who, looking directly at us, reaching into his bag, said, "Here, you guys can share" and threw us a single Tootsie roll.

Sleepover

I had a small group sleepover last night. Not too many girls came, but those that did had a good time. We choreographed a dance to Ashlee Simpson's "L-O-V-E," painted our nails crazy (I currently have dark purple with white tips), made smores, watched Clueless (well, those who stayed awake). Lots o' junior high fun. What we didn't do was have any deep meaningful conversations or discussions. Part of me feels like I should have been shepherding/teaching/imparting Biblical truth (other than telling onscreen Dionne she should "stay that way until you're married" when she remarks "technically, I am a virgin"). On the other hand, I don't know these girls super-well and some bonding time was probably in order. Hopefully, I've laid the ground work for future conversations, rather than just missing an opportunity to have one.

Crazy Fears Or Fear of Crazies?

What do you think about serial killers? I find them creepily fascinating. What causes a person to become that depraved? I go through bursts of watching The History Channel's Perfect Crime? and reading CrimeLibrary until I get too freaked out and have to stop.

A couple of days ago as I was listening to Sufjan Stevens, I realized I don't really know anything about John Wayne Gacy and went into research mode. Two days ago, I saw Resurrection Man a film with Stuart Townsend as a psychotic IRA-ish thug/killer during the Troubles. Yesterday, I watched Suspect Zero, a fantastic film with Ben Kingsley, Aaron Eckhart, and Carrie-Anne Moss about a serial killer that hunts serial killers using remote viewing (psychic abilities). It was amazing, right up there with Seven, truly that good.

But now, I'm creeped out. Yesterday, I went for a walk in the woods and was furtively glancing off the trail, wondering how I would react if I found a body. And when I was driving, I pulled up next to a middle-aged, over-weight, white guy wearing thick glasses, and worried if I fit the profile of his victims because that's the type of person that I imagine serial killers generally are.

This probably isn't healthy.

You Should Be A Poet

You craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways.And you have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery...Or describing the most intense heartbreak ever.You're already naturally a poet, even if you've never written a poem.

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Nashville Without Altman

I'm in Nashville, TN on a mostly impromptu visit. Dad is at a business conference, so I'm amusing myself around town. It's been fun to be able to choose exactly what to see and when without having to consider anyone else's predilections. While finding things that are especially Nashvillelian but aren't centered around country music or horse racing has been a challenge, I'm gamely venturing about and finding things and activities with which to occupy myself. Tomorrow, I'm likely to give up on the touristy type stuff and head to the mall, but I have done the following things that I couldn't do anywhere else:

Visited the Belmont Mansion. Big pretty house built by this uber-rich woman, Adelicia Hayes Franklin Acklen Cheatham, in the second half of the 19th century; she got even richer playing both sides of the Civil War so she could sell cotton to the English for nearly a million dollars (in 1865 money!). I was there before the place opened and was waiting on the doorstep for a little while. Rather than walking in however, there's a bell that's rung and I felt like Willie Lohman hoping to get in and be accepted. Then while on the tour it was me and the college aged tour guide. It was rather awkward; I didn't know how much eye contact was appropriate, how much I should look at the room, etc. Although I tried to laugh at the scripted jokes, I was more often amused and giggling by other, apparently non-funny, very serious, parts, which prompted Charles (my tour guide) to give me strange looks. All in all though, opulent house (it had indoor plumbing before the White House!) filled with lots of marble statues and china bought on the Grand European Tour.

Ate lunch at Centennial Park by the Parthenon, the world's only life size replica. I thought it was pretty hokey until I learned that it was built in 1897 for the Centennial Fair. Since most people, Adelicia excepted, didn't have money to travel the world and the technology/spread of information (no Discovery or History channel) was far less advanced, it was probably actually very cool and culturey to go see. At that festival they also had recreations of the pyramids, street in Morocco and a bunch of other places around the world. Now there's an art gallery in the basement and 41 foot statue of Athena on the top level, crazy.

I wanted to continue my day of simulacra by seeing The Nashville King, an Elvis impersonator, but Dad was scheduled until late, and there're just some things you can't do on your own.

That was yesterday, today I went to the Frist Center for Visual Arts (the art gallery), which was okay. Half the gallery was closed because they're preparing for a new exhibit, so there were only four rooms open, each containing approximately 6-8 pictures. Ho hum, although one Monet (pretty much the only artist I recognized) was rather nice. What was rather cool was their exhibit (the one other room open in the gallery) of martele silver. This line of silver is American Art Nouveau that was shown at the 1900 Paris Exhibition! Supposedly, it is significant enough to rival Tiffany glass in America's contribution to and execution of Art Nouveau. That was lots of fun to see. Sadly the only tangible, take-homeable thing about it was a ninety dollar book in the gift shop , so I have nothing, no postcard, no pamphlet, to remember it by. I couldn't even take any pictures. Sad, because I do love all things Art Nouveau.

Two Books

Monday I turned my grades in and was officially free! It's been wonderful and the books I've read have rocked my docs, so I'm here to tell you about them in the hopes that they will, one day, rock your docs as well.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley
I love Robin McKinley, and I love vampire fiction, so how could I go wrong? What I find most interesting about this is I see the prequel coming. Like with her book the Blue Sword, which alluded to prior events (Aerin, the dragon killer) subsequently explained by the publication of The Hero and the Crown, I am curious about Onyx Blaise (her dad), what his story is, how he met her mom, and what happened in the Wars that made the family, especially Sunshine's grandmother, disappear. Hopefully, McKinley's working on that right now (goodness, how old is she? I hope she writes books forever!).

City of Glass by Paul Auster
A wonderful piece of post-modern fiction that is a spiritual detective story (think I Heart Huckabees) that deals with doubles, layers of identity, and enough walking to drive Michel de Certeau (one of the more interesting city theorists that I read in class this summer) to delirium. Plus very interesting thoughts on the Tower of Babel and language. If the fall of man precipitated the fall of language (think Lacan), would regaining true language return us to paradise?

My Dad Rocks!

Because after hearing me complain about the region problems that prohibit me from buying/watching British DVD's, he bought me a regionless DVD player! (Online and cheaply.) So, now I can watch the copy of Byron that my professor saw when she was in London over Christmas break (and shop on the UK Amazon)!

This cinematic version of Byron is supposed to paint him as his lover Caroline Lamb described him--"mad, bad, and dangerous to know"--while showing how Byron was indeed the first rock star. And who better to play that than Jonny Lee Miller?

New Music

Tuesday Snow Patrol's new album Eyes Open came out; you may be familiar with the single "Hands Open" that has been playing for a little while. I like them, thought the song was catchy, ergo the purchase, but I had no idea the excitement that awaited me in the full album. Are you ready?

Track eight, "Set Fire to the Third Bar," is sung with...Martha Wainwright! And it rocks!

Enjoy the Silence, Not Really

It was silent, but I didn't enjoy it. Yesterday was quite possibly one of the ickiest days ever. Cold, wind, rain. Just the day for staying inside by the fireplace and reading. Not really the day for dolling up to go to a rock concert, but I did anyway; Depeche Mode tickets are not especially cheap. There was excessive make-up, there was hairspray, there was a custom-made scarf--all for this occasion.

Driving there was something. Broken windshield wiper beginning to scratch the glass and limiting visibility on the highway to a dangerous level. Skipping a fun dinner, ending up at Burger King to get it replaced and still make it on time. Only to learn:

Show's been canceled.

Maybe I'm Not the Best Person to Have in a Crisis

Yesterday was terrifying. I'd been up for no more than twenty minutes, when I heard my dad yelling, "Sarah, I've cut myself." I flew downstairs to the garage where my dad was holding his hand in a towel and looking for the top portion of his thumb. He'd been using the table saw when his hand slipped. I called 911 and, after a disturbing three rings and a bored "Is this an emergency?," got an ambulance to come. I'd gotten my dad to sit still, rather than crawling around on the sawdust covered garage floor, so I ran back up stairs to put on jeans (I was still in my pajamas). About five emergency personnel showed up in three vehicles. They found the severed piece, ultimately to no avail, there was no reattaching it, it was not a clean cut. Emergency room, lots of phone calls. My dad ended up having outpatient surgery last night and is at home, doing okay today. The cut was on his left hand, below his nail, above his knuckle. He still has use of the joint, etc. Praise the Lord, it could have been much worse.

My dad had good, I would almost say jovial, spirits the entire time, partially, I think, so I wouldn't panic any more than I already was. I couldn't look at his hand or the piece of thumb they found, and the doctor at the emergency room made me stay sitting in case I fainted. Number one, not good with blood, etc. Number two, completely unaware of the medical system. When I was talking to the fire chief (or who ever he was), he asked if I wanted to go to this specific hospital. I had no idea which one we "usually use;" we don't use them at all really. Do people actually have 'regular' hospitals? I had to get directions to the place and then ask what I should do when I got there! I guess I'll be better prepared for next time, though I sure hope there isn't one!

I'll Have My Day in Court!

And it was almost that dramatic of a morning, but I didn't feel very triumphant. A few weeks ago, I received a speeding ticket. Being that I was very busy, I forgot about it and didn't send in the payment (I was very guilty). I knew/thought that the court date was mid-May, so on Monday when I pulled out the ticket to deal with, I was shocked to see that my court date was Tuesday at 9am. Yipe.

Tuesday morning, I was a bundle of nerves, scared to death of standing in front of a judge, desperately trying to explain that I didn't belong here and I just wanted to pay, leave, and never come back. No idea how long it would take, I called the writing center (where I work) to ask if they could rearrange my schedule. This is no easy feat; its a super busy time of the year, and appointments are made. Though sometimes these appointments can be moved to other people, often tutors just have to be there. I felt awful that something I could have taken care of meant that I was going to be late.

Frightened of the legal system, guilty over possibly missing work at the worst possible time--this is the emotional state I was in as I walked out to my car to find the driver's window broken and my stereo gone. My dad's window was also broken, but they didn't get the stereo. Though I waited for a little while for the police, I didn't want to be late for court, so I drove the pick-up (in high heels). It turns out that court was nothing--I went into a room in the back of the court, sat down at a table with a guy (nice tie), talked for ninety seconds, and paid the ticket. It took me the rest of the day to relax I was so wound up. Being so tense is not my normal state, nor fun may I add.

But, that was a few days ago, since then I've finished most of my work. All I've got left is one take home final and a bunch of grading. I've spent today cleaning my room, purging it of all the books for finished papers, and watching season five of Gilmore Girls.

Encourage Me!

Because I'd much rather think about this summer than the last two weeks of the semester, I'm turning my attention to my summer school courses. PhD requirements include reading knowledge of two foreign languages. I am hoping to take French this summer, but am number five on the waiting list (yipes!). I am currently enrolled in German, and while not particularly excited about it, there must be something useful in having a basic understanding of the language (sadly, the six weeks of German I had in my 7th grade "Experiencing Language" course has not left much of an imprint). But, rather than being whiny and despondent about the issue, which I might be if I had more energy, I'd like to think of what good will come from this summer's education. So far I'm excited because:

• I like the German movies: Run Lola Run, The Princess and the Warrior, and Wings of Desire.
• Heidelberg was pretty when I was there; I visited my first castle.
• German Chocolate cake is awesome.

As you can see my list needs more, is anyone aware of popular media and/or culture that might help raise my interest in the German language? Or Germanness in general, say if I had theme music to do my homework to?