tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79523762885611774742024-02-19T11:03:51.000-05:00paper rootyou know? she makes things with her hands. it's as if her synapses was married directly to her fingers. like this. in this way.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-27633295775947356102012-10-17T12:37:00.000-04:002012-10-17T12:45:29.257-04:00The Rain In Spain Leads Mainly To Throat Pain<div>
I like to think of myself as the type of person who doesn't need medicine. I like to think that my body goes to battle against germs and bacteria without outside help. I like to let my defense systems hone their skills by giving in to the sick for a day or so, letting them figure out how this newest bio-weapon works, and kicking it's ass. </div>
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Apparently Spain's deadly blow was too much for it to handle. After five days of being permanently attached to a tissue box, I gave in and went to the doctor. It wasn't so much that I was feeling terrible; it was that only half of my throat hurt. The left half felt like someone had sprayed fire down it before repeated forcing me to swallow a sword while the right half felt 100% totally normal, thank you very much. That ish is too weird to leave to its own devices.</div>
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So after a couple frustrating calls with my private insurance that resulted in a couple overwhelmed tears, my saint-like roommate walked me to the hospital. I gave her my insurance card, she asked what was wrong, and I went to the other room to wait. And let's be clear here: this wasn't the socialized health care waiting room of the GOP's nightmares. There were 6 people there: 1 man with a broken arm, 1 little girl missing all her teeth, and 4 with no visible maladies. I waited 45 minutes (45 minutes! I've waited longer than that for most <i>appointments</i> I've made with doctors) before I was called back to a room. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/roNTQqeKfWWW1RdwXpgpTi0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UmMRXYq_qP4/UH7csCSY6II/AAAAAAAAUpQ/oN5gXaIlBoM/s400/IMG_1652.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This penis-shaped plant is my only complaint about the hospital</td></tr>
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And once I got there it was on. No "the doctor will see you in a (read: 15) minute(s)." The nurse took my vital stats and asked me if I came to Spain for love or money. When she was done, the doctor walked in -- he was wearing jeans and scrub shirt -- looked at my chart, looked at my throat, and did a quick culture for strep. He left and came back five minutes later with a (typed!) prescription for antibiotics and directions. I was in and out, without an appointment and for a grand total of $0, in less than an hour. </div>
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And then the pharmacy. The pharmacy! I handed the pharmacist my paper and he handed me my medicine. There was no waiting 20 minutes or overnight. And did I mention that I only paid 5€ for each of my two prescriptions? </div>
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Last time I went to a doctor, I waited a week and a half for an appointment, which I then paid $35 for (twice, because I had to go back). I had the pleasure of spending another $7 for a medicine I bought at the office and $20 for a prescription I had to wait two days to get. And that's with the privilege of health insurance; I've got it pretty easy. </div>
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I know there's plenty here that's not right. The economy is in shambles and looking at the possibility of a bailout. Unemployment in Spain is at 24% and nearly half of all young people are jobless. When you order pizza, it comes with a layer of ham underneath the cheese. But it still seems like there's something we could learn. </div>
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Maybe it's just the high from the whole experience, but I think I feel better already.</div>
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laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-80235917344657106632012-10-08T10:24:00.000-04:002012-10-08T10:26:13.528-04:00Food, Glorious Food!<div class="p1">
Quick. If you had to choose any one American TV show to export to the rest of the world, what would it be? Because I like to assume that the people who make their way to my blog are mostly sane (which, to be honest, <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com.es/2011/09/lost-and-clearly-delirious-top-11.html">isn't really a very good assumption</a>), I'm guessing you wouldn't pick <i>Man v. Food.</i> And yet that's exactly what the five of us -- me, my two roommates, and their girlfriends -- spent yesterday morning watching while we ate our breakfast.</div>
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While we debated weather or not French toast and French fries are, in fact, a French export, someone pointed out how bad the Spanish are at marketing their food abroad. "Our food is so rich and varied," she said, "But when you say 'tortilla' anywhere else in the world, people only think about the Mexican version." A month or so ago, I would've disagreed. <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com.es/2010/10/i-could-get-used-to-unrefrigerated-eggs.html">As</a> <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com.es/2010/12/on-culture-and-offensive-language_03.html">we</a> <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com.es/2010/11/cataluna-beinging-whole-new-meaning-to.html">all</a> <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com.es/2010/12/estic-terminat.html">know</a>, the Spanish don't have a "rich and varied" diet so much as "1000 types of ham." But it turns out that I was wrong. Not only is ham not disgusting (we'll get to that in a minute), it's not the only thing to eat around these here parts. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
In an effort to impress my family and friends, I'm starting a catalogue of all the weirdo foods I've eaten since I got here. While I realize that not all the foods on this list are weird in most people's books, I need you to keep in mind that we're talking about me (this is my blog after all). In high school, my friend Lydia used to describe me as "the girl who only eats white food." I didn't eat chicken until I was 19. I once described eating pesto as "adventurous." So armed with that knowledge, onward ho.</div>
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</div>
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<b>Foods I've Eaten For The First Time Since September 24th</b><br />
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+Octopus</div>
<div class="p1">
<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Um, the suckers. </div>
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<b>verdict</b>: Octopods are really cool animals. I mean, the UK has named them "honorary vertebrates." That being said, they are not by any stretch of the imagination my new favorite food. Even when swimming in garlic butter, octopus still looks pretty much like octopus and feels like chewing a particularly dense balloon. </div>
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/F6n_HVTFxn4WTYs36KJWai0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CJ_ZU9DbsR8/UHLZIU0L4MI/AAAAAAAAUms/ZraJE6Gb5BI/s640/pulpo-a-feira.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
+Ham</div>
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</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Mostly because I delegate all animal products that aren't eggs, dairy, chicken breast, steak to the "strange and questionable meats" category. The fact that pig legs hang out with flies on the ceilings of almost every market, cafe, and bar in Spain did do much to help win me over.</div>
<div class="p1">
<b>verdict</b>: I can not tell a lie. As much as it makes me feel like a hypocrite, I have to admit that I like ham afterall. I forced myself to try it at a bar in The Middle of Nowhere, Redondela because turning down the 70-year-old barmaid's tapa seemed like bad form and kind of loved it. Instead of tasting like I expected (rotting un-kosher animal mystery innards), it was kind of just like eating salt. </div>
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</div>
<div class="p1">
+Bacalao</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Seeing dozens of pounds of salted cod sit out for days at a time in a depanneur in Montreal. </div>
<div class="p1">
<b>verdict</b>: Unlike our so-intelligent-we-might-as-well-pretend-that-they-have-a-backbone friend the octopus, cod are actual vertebrates. I was so hungry that by the time the food arrived, I didn't think to ask if the fish still had bones and took a massive bite before realizing that I was essentially eating fried bones held together by bits of fish flesh. Going to a restaurant and ordering something that takes work to eat seems counterintuitive to me, so if I get bacalao again, I'm going to get something that doesn't involve espinas. </div>
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<div class="p1">
+Coffee</div>
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</div>
<div class="p1">
<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: The sheer terror and disgust that old men with coffee breath inspire in me. </div>
<div class="p1">
<b>verdict</b>: I actually kind of dig it. Coffee in the U.S. comes in size big, huge and gargantuan and cost an ungodly amount of money; coffee here comes in a tiny little tea cup and costs around a dollar. My favorite cafe here gives you coffee, a croissant, and a shot of orange juice (it's like an after-coffee mint!) for 1.50€. </div>
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</div>
<div class="p1">
+Squid</div>
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</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Dissected these babies in 7th grade science and the hall smelled like them for a week afterward.</div>
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<b>verdict</b>: Actually? Awesome. Like most food in Spain (e.g. shrimp with eyes, ham with toes, rabbits with ears), these guys showed up in full-on squid form. None of that namby-pamby fried calamari ring bullshit. My roommate showed me how to pull the cartilage out and squeeze lemon juice on it, and I was unstoppable.</div>
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ZryzsH6f45sRDkAsjYz6WS0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-j_rPijPAcUM/UHHo18X38FI/AAAAAAAAUmQ/D8sdtjL2D_8/s640/IMG_1529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p1">
<br />
+Carrot soup</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div class="p1">
<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Unless it's a milkshake, I don't like to drink my food.</div>
<div class="p1">
<b>verdict</b>: Mehhhhh. It is, however, worth mentioning that I thought I was eating bunnies because my co-worker confused the worlds for "carrot" and "rabbit" and told me it was rabbit soup as he passed me a bowl. It wasn't until we were done eating and I asked why rabbit soup was orange that someone corrected him and I realized that it was only carrots. </div>
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<div class="p1">
+Swordfish</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: n/a. Never had the opportunity to try it.</div>
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<b>verdict</b>: Just no. (N.B. I ate it in our school cafeteria, so I'll consider giving it another chance if someone wants to take me out on a fancy swordfish dinner date.)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
+Turkey</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: I don't know. Un-outgrown general childhood stubbornness?</div>
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<b>verdict</b>: The turkey was in paella, so I just pretended like I was eating chicken and I didn't die. </div>
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<div class="p1">
+Ham flavored potato chips</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: Nothing about this combination sounds appetizing. </div>
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<b>verdict</b>: Again with the ham. I ate at least 1/3 of the bag; they are that good.</div>
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SVbjgcNIH-nDAUyeM6KGMC0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Vqv7S93lK1A/UHLY3b2y1II/AAAAAAAAUmk/hJF9msuYU0M/s800/300.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<div class="p1">
+A taco that was actually spicy in Spain</div>
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<b>previous</b> <b>aversion</b>: n/a. I love hot things! The problem here is that Spain's idea of spicy is a -3 on the universal Thai/Indian restaurant scale of spiciness. </div>
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<b>verdict</b>: Yum. After being disappointed to find out that we were going to a soup restaurant for lunch, I was ecstatic to find out that they were having a special taco day on Friday. </div>
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p.s. Foods I miss: red onions, black beans (paying 2.5€ just doesn't seem worth it), cilantro, corn (despite the fact that Galicia is like a mini-Ohio when it comes to corn farming), popcorn, peanut butter.</div>
<br />laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-22928190584378542502012-10-07T16:54:00.001-04:002012-10-07T16:54:51.713-04:00The Name GameWe have no Internet* but I'm getting impatient and want to write about what's going on in this strange, magical place called Spain. Since pictures are not an option at the moment, today is going to be one of those play-along-at-home kind of days. The name of the game today is:<br />
<br />
<b>How Do You Say That Name?</b><br />
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<div style="padding-left: 30px;">
1. Uxia</div>
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2. Brais</div>
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3. Iago</div>
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4. Loira</div>
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5. Izan</div>
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6. Xurxo</div>
<div style="padding-left: 30px;">
7. Bieito</div>
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*This post was brought to you today by the unprotected wifi network "THOMPSON" and by the parents of the students in my class who have given them all awesomely unpronounceable names.<br />
<br />
Answers: 1. oo-SHE-uh 2. Brice 3. ee-AH-go 4. lo-EE-r/la 5. Ethan 6. shur-sho 7. I wish I knewlaurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-56424283261439258712012-06-25T23:20:00.001-04:002012-06-25T23:27:37.331-04:00Three by Three by Three<b>+ A timeline for this summer</b><br />
<br />
1. Past: After spending nearly 5 months attempting (and, surprisingly, succeeding) to turn myself into A Person Who Studies, I finally took the LSAT last Monday. It means a lot of things but mostly it means<br />
a. Freedom.<br />
b. ...Which is only partially mitigated by the prospect of waiting three weeks to get my score.<br />
c. I am one step closer to not being thrown upon the sea of life like a bean in a bikini. I have a grown up lady plan.<br />
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2. Present: Life. Like really really good things that I've been looking forward to since the day my test first started creeping closer on the calendar. Por ejemplo:<br />
a. Pride, my favorite holiday (after all the holidays where I get to play games and eat food with my family).<br />
b. Roadtrip With Molly: The Remix. In which Molly, her 90-pound yellow labrador Orion, and I pile into her car and drive to the east coast with the help of 2 tablets of Benadryl hidden in peanut butter, Justin Timberlake, and cruise control.<br />
c. A-Camp, which I still struggle to find words about because my feelings are a little overwhelming and I'm out of practice with writing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OG Roadtrip</td></tr>
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3. Future: And then, at some yet-to-be-determined point in the future, I'm moving to glorious España. So far I know exactly three things about what in the world I'm getting myself into, but if they're any indication at all of what it's going to be like, I'll be pleased as a peach.<br />
a. First of all, I'll be in Vigo, Galicia and (praise be to our lord baby Jesus) from what I hear, the fisherman types up there aren't quite as into jamón as the Polacos were. Unfortunately, that probably means I'll be dodging my fair share of pulpo there, but tentacles and suction cups are nothing compared to all that pig.<br />
b. In other food news, Galicia is known as the birthplace of my second-favorite pocket-shaped food: empanadas. They also serve a local cheese called tetilla and I figure any place that names their cheese after breasts is a place I want to be.<br />
c. Contrary to popular belief, the rain in Spain does not fall mainly in the plain; it falls in Galicia. Specifically, it falls in Fornelos de Montes, a village that has averaged over 160 inches of rain each year for a while now. Incidentally, Fornelos de Montes is also the village where I'll be teaching.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disgusting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
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<b>+ My soundtrack for the last month or so</b><br />
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1. Santigold: Of all the nights I've worked late, the one night I wasn't there was the night she came in. She was apparently lovely and gave tickets to my friends (including Andrew, the DJ/Back of House Specialist who saved my life a few nights ago when he solved <a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-need-you-to-understand-that-this-is.html">the mystery of the song</a>; by playing Santigold's new album while I was doing data transfers).<br />
a. Fame<br />
b. Freak Like Me<br />
c. Starstruck<br />
<br />
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<span><a href="http://grooveshark.com/playlist/Santigold/74667902" title="Santigold by laurrrrita on Grooveshark">Santigold by laurrrrita on Grooveshark</a></span></object></object>
<br />
<br />
2. James Vincent McMorrow: This guy's got a voice like butta and is calm and sexy like woah. Which I think can be a hard thing to do without the cheese.<br />
a. If I Had A Boat<br />
b. Down The Burning Ropes<br />
c. And If My Heart Should Somehow Stop<br />
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<span><a href="http://grooveshark.com/playlist/James+Vincent+McMorrow/74668019" title="James Vincent McMorrow by laurrrrita on Grooveshark">James Vincent McMorrow by laurrrrita on Grooveshark</a></span></object></object>
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3. Shakira: Okay, so really Shakira's been my jam for the past 10 years, but the thought of moving has got me putting her on blast every day in an attempted to reabsorb Spanish.<br />
a. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dsp_8Lm1eSk">La Tortura</a><br />
b. Pies Descalzos, Suenos Blancos<br />
c. Gordita<br />
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<span><a href="http://grooveshark.com/playlist/Shakira/74668039" title="Shakira by laurrrrita on Grooveshark">Shakira by laurrrrita on Grooveshark</a></span></object></object><br />
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+ Honorable mentions go to Plan B (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQjh9H-ymK4">She Said</a>), Snow Tha Product (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVQyMIpGqaI">Holy Shit</a>), Chiddy Bang (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_TzlSPbYt8">Ray Charles</a>), Florence and the Machine (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2EIeUlvHAiM">Cosmic Love</a>), The Weeknd (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sX9DgavXiN4">High For This</a>), Fun (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0">Some Nights</a>), Robyn (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPA3I7QeLE8&feature=related">Call Your Girlfriend</a>), and Gyptian (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oz-u6I9bbSQ">Hold Yuh</a>)<br />
<br />
+ <b>Summer reading club</b><br />
<br />
1. Science<br />
a. <a href="http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2012/06/21/a-close-look-at-some-evangelical-textbooks/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+SociologicalImagesSeeingIsBelieving+%28Sociological+Images%3A+Seeing+Is+Believing%29">Roses are red/ violets are blue/ they both grow better/ with more CO2</a><br />
b. "<a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/krulwich/2012/06/21/155508849/how-do-plants-know-which-way-is-up-and-which-way-is-down?ft=1&f=1007">More intriguing, if you turn a seedling (or a whole bunch of seedlings) upside down...the tips and roots of the plant will sense, 'Hey, I'm upside down,' and will wiggle their way to the right direction, doing a double U-turn</a>" <br />
c. "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3uBcq1x7P34&feature=player_embedded#!">How many continents are there? Well, how many continents do you want there to be?</a>"<br />
2. People<br />
a. "<a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2012/07/vanishing-languages/rymer-text">What is lost when a language goes silent?</a>"<br />
b. "<a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/pictureshow/2012/05/30/153990125/in-mexico-mixed-genders-and-muxes?ft=1&f=97635953">The images capture Hernandez in his personal transformation — as well as blurred lines between gay and Catholic cultures, lines he was not encouraged to cross as a child.</a>"<br />
c. "<a href="http://www.autostraddle.com/15-ways-to-spot-a-lesbian-according-to-some-really-old-medical-journals-139954/">10. Talks loud and uses slang</a>"<br />
3. Food<br />
a. <a href="http://www.blissfulbblog.com/blog/2012/2/16/blissful-eats-with-tina-jeffers-creamy-avocado-pasta.html">Avocado pasta</a><br />
b. <a href="http://www.motherthyme.com/2012/06/grilled-vegetable-pitas-with-cilantro.html">Vegetable Pitas with Cilantro Pesto</a><br />
c. <a href="http://www.thelittlekitchen.net/2012/06/24/nutella-milkshakes/">Nutella Milkshakes</a><span style="background-color: white;"></span>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-51746649724610089352012-04-12T22:09:00.003-04:002012-04-12T22:10:54.454-04:00I Need You To Understand That This Is ImportantI want to know the name of this song.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/g8ReYsdfjSc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="" style="font-size: 100%; "></iframe></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-59503836239328937362012-01-25T23:00:00.008-05:002012-03-16T19:13:34.948-04:00It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (So Far)<div><span id="internal-source-marker_0.30659269541502" ><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">10 thoughts for today</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+1: My dog is really wonderful. No really, she is. I’ve just spent the night recovering from a week and a half spent house and dog sitting for my friend. I say recovering because her dog, while adorable, weighs roughly as much as I do and is a menace to society. Case in point: I left a box of oatmeal flakes on the top of the refrigerator (like a real refrigerator, not one of those tiny dorm ones) and when I came back from my 5 minute shower they were gone. Not just the flakes themselves but also the bag and box they came in. Where they went is anyone’s guess, but 36 hours of explosive diarrhea points to the dog’s stomach.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+2: After acquiring a laser pointer, I was able to spend most of my free time simultaneously running the dog around the apartment and catching up with my friends. I talked to a few friends I haven’t seen in ages and made plans to talk with some more. On top of that, at least three of my favorite people have moved or are moving to Cincinnati for a little while. I love the new friends I’ve made here, but as Mr. Emerson said, "<i>It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.</i>"</span></span></div><div><span ><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br />+3: Last night around 3 am I woke up with an inexplicable craving for pb&j. It was the first thing I ate when I got home from work tonight and it tasted like pure comfort.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+4: Speaking of comfy things, Alison recently reintroduced me to the miracles of hot water bottles. Mine does wonders for heating up my feet in bed and is pretty good for snuggling when no living soul is available (I don’t cuddle with ghosts). It’s definitely going to have a place in...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+5: My new blog “<a href="http://magiapractica.tumblr.com/">Practical Magic</a></span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">," which I started after spending a night in Molly’s house organizing my bookmarked sites. See, I worry about forgetting all those little things that I’ve read or that people have told me or that I’ve discovered that make life easier. Like brushing your teeth in the shower. I was all about it for a year or so, but for some reason I forgot about it and stopped doing it. So now I have a blog for me with a name borrowed from an Alice Hoffman book that I’ve never read but liked this part from it: </span></span></div><div><b><span ><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"</span><span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">There are some things, after all, that I know for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">"</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+6: Another thing I did at Molly’s was read through all of <a href="http://fitforafemme.com/blog/">Fit For a Femme</a>’s blog. I’m feeling a bit at a crossroads in the haircut/clothes/genderish department and so I thought I’d do some exploring on the femmey side of the continuum. In related news, I bought a pair of snakeskin print pants. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "> </span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+7: So while I may not have my style in order, I think I’ll still be eligible to receive my adult card this year. I have a 401k, signed up for stock options yesterday, and am doing my very own taxes this weekend. Being a grown up is almost too glamorous to handle. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+8: On the other hand, I spent the entire day at work giggling over an accidental penis joke. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Customer</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: Excuse me, do you know where the Whole Foods in Mason is?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Me</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: Yeah, it’s right on Mason-Montgomery</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Customer</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: So just take 71 up there? What’s it by?</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Me</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: Oh, it’s right next to the big Dick’s.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Me</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: Er...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Customer</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: (no change in expression)</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span></span><span style="text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Me</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">: Heheheheheeee</span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><br /><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">+9: I also spent 2 hours tonight catching up on my favorite show, </span><span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">Switched at Birth</span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; ">. If you haven’t seen it yet, I don’t know what you’re doing. You should probably take 4 minutes right now to watch one of the actors sing Enrique Iglesias’s “Hero” so that you have a better idea of what you’re missing.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; "><b><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7gutI5qnjxo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></b></div><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "></span><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><div><b><span style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; "><br /></span></b></div>+10: Look at my motherlovin’ avocado plant!</span><br /><div style="text-align: center; "><br /><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GGB2EMYBiV4C4bfmkhyDGilmqpg0CJQWUZjR2nC_VPU?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-AmGWmOX_Fc4/TyLgy2GS2AI/AAAAAAAARO8/UrwCuXC7YhM/s400/Uncluttered.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></div></span></b></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-26702518668062184362012-01-09T19:34:00.006-05:002012-01-09T21:51:40.911-05:00Two Winters<div>This New Year, my only real resolution is to write something everyday. So far, I'm 7 for 9 since I hadn't yet thought up my plan on the two days of the month. I make promises to myself almost weekly--some of which I stop caring about, some which I've successfully implemented into my life, and some which I still have to remind myself about every day--so the idea of doing something concrete every single day for an entire year is appealing. I don't have any real set guidelines: I might write here, I might write for autostraddle, I might write a letter, or I might just write for myself. The point is that I write <i>something. </i></div><div><br /></div><div>Today, inspired by my friend (acquaintance? what do you call someone you met one time in 3-D and got along swimmingly with?) <a href="http://ashleylinnenbank.com/">Ashley</a>, I created two mixes for <a href="http://8tracks.com/autostraddle/one-winter">winter</a>: cold and warm. The extremes that winter brings come in the differences between indoors and outside, light(s) and darkness, being alone and together. I've never been good at choosing favorites which makes winter the perfect season* for me.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/513968/player_v3_universal" width="300" height="250" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-color: initial; "></iframe></div><p class="_8t_embed_p" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/514007/player_v3_universal" width="300" height="250" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-color: initial; "></iframe></div><p class="_8t_embed_p" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><br /></p>*Along with spring, summer, and fall.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-86646416911672730312011-11-24T00:20:00.008-05:002011-11-25T21:07:55.428-05:00For the Love, Comes the Burning Young<div style="font-family: 'Courier', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; "><div><span>--------------------------0--|--(3)--0---0--(3)--</span></div><div><span>--1----1-1--1-1--1-1--1-1-1--|---1---1---1---1---</span></div><div><span>--0h2--2-2--0-0--0-0--0-0-0--|---0---2---2---0--- </span></div><div><span>-----------------2-2--3-3-3--|---0---2---3---0--- </span></div><div><span>------------------------3-3--|---2-------3---2---</span></div><div><span>-----------------------------|---3-----------3---</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-35139556289973084842011-11-19T11:17:00.003-05:002011-11-19T15:47:07.169-05:00peoplewholooklikeronweasley.tumblr.com<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0kRlzT6mcaeFMQfXj46SUy0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-qnoQtZf8fiM/TsfWocyQ0FI/AAAAAAAAQrM/eQW_AayeyOM/s640/Desktop1.jpg" height="256" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WB6jDcg0KLYf1BwAOQp8US0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_x6WJXh5sNc/TsfWnx3uNoI/AAAAAAAAQrI/dXhfqvPnYIE/s640/Desktop3.jpg" height="256" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/i8u_MKSFtNLa952akHmHNS0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Zea2XA07olY/TsfWnecikCI/AAAAAAAAQrE/9jgTNL62NM0/s640/Desktop2.jpg" height="256" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zCbo1LTDPARgrHUUqooUSC0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"></a><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zCbo1LTDPARgrHUUqooUSC0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-eTQBVl5hGW8/TsfWm_75fVI/AAAAAAAAQrA/hZITBXWplZc/s640/Desktop.jpg" height="256" width="640" /></a></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-86797548943346342262011-11-17T20:33:00.002-05:002011-11-17T20:38:37.051-05:00November Is For Sleepingi wish that i believed in fate<br />i wish i didn't <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzhNdCxhK28">sleep</a> so late<br /><br />Oh darling I think that all of the answers<br />went south on the backs of those grey winged birds<br />or slipped through our fingers<br />while we were <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLvnprzG6JQ">sleeping</a><br /><br />Now comes, a river runs through the rafters down, down, down<br />Does it leave me <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89yEOAapoMc">sleeping</a>? Dreaming only of springlaurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-45169988252568417962011-10-20T23:21:00.008-04:002011-10-21T20:35:25.007-04:00¿Cómo se llama? 3 Things That You Should Know<div>+Here's the story of a lovely lady statue in Lima, Peru. Her name is Madre Patria and she lives in Plaza San Martín. The plaza was built to celebrate Peru's 100th independence day and the statue of the Madre Patria is part of a large monument that was commissioned to honor General José de San Martín. When they decided to build a statue, Peru had a contest to see who could come up with the best idea. Luckily (for the sake of comedy and llama-lovers everywhere), Spaniard Mariano Benlliure won with his highly unique sculpture of a guy on a horse. Peru liked with his idea but sent a memo to the Spain saying that they wanted him to include a statue of a lady wearing a crown of flames who would hold up the sign announcing the general. Unfortunately, homophones weren't exactly Benlliure's strong point and he confused the word for flame--<i>llama</i>--with the word for those cute animals that live in the Andes and spit a lot. Behold:</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/NkqOIPl2LkKutfIOfYeuAS0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-RB2UCVNPcKQ/TqINwiZMBdI/AAAAAAAAQJA/ItNWM3C3p3A/s640/Desktop.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></a></div></div><div>Story courtesy of Alison, who called me this week to tell me about her trip to Peru.</div><div><br /></div><div>+My phenomenal family came over to eat and play Mad Gab on my birthday and we filmed my dad bringing a whole new meaning to the word "fupa." </div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/M5AFp7RF_z8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div></div><div><br /></div><div>+I would not eat a Krispy Kreme for love or for money, but <a href="http://southamericanfood.about.com/od/snacksstreetfood/r/picarones.htm">these guys</a> sound like they could be everything I desire in a food. They are, incidentally, also Peruvian.</div><div><br /></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-10774805335222672822011-10-18T23:25:00.004-04:002011-10-18T23:30:23.890-04:00These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XLwdwlM2jOw/Tp5Dk78e-KI/AAAAAAAAQFo/qJYhmv2-cu8/s640/20111017-0909311.jpg" height="270" width="640" /></div><div><br /></div>@<a href="http://www.autostraddle.com/get-baked-the-icing-on-the-cake-116691/">autostraddle</a>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-57165716804755466302011-10-16T00:13:00.003-04:002011-10-16T00:16:58.064-04:00Ron, Ron Loves Twizzlers<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-gibstQx9KGM/Tpnl5az1OEI/AAAAAAAAQB4/IGBAc3OK7XQ/s640/asd.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-82444290241488452042011-10-02T13:40:00.006-04:002011-10-02T14:45:28.474-04:00Star-álfurNature has turned arctic over night and I didn't have to work this entire beautiful weekend. What I did have to do was look for a car. After reluctantly dragging myself to a car dealership and negotiating with a positively lovely man who told me I barely looked 16 and had a few sexist tricks up his sleeve, I'm 99% sure I have a new old car that smells like Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo and more or less works. <div><br /></div><div>Now the exciting stuff: I've been wanting some kind of canopy fandango for my bed, so I spent last night poking holes in my ceiling and hanging up fabric. I even dug out the cardboard stars from my apartment on Fernon and sewed them to the sheet. Now my money plant lights don't look like they're coming out of nowhere. My room feels supercozy <i>and</i> all my decorations are high enough off the ground that Tess can snuggle with me and won't be tempted to eat them.</div><div><div><div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jVdrqmqHoyI/ToiietoaNNI/AAAAAAAAQBI/JEZ_5FBR61s/s640/Uncluttered.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Last but not least, my avocado plant is HUGE. I'm going to have to figure out some way to pot it without snapping off all the roots so that my baby can grow to its full potential. And so I can make guacamole in 9 years.</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-fwFFNDjDUEw/ToiifUtjzJI/AAAAAAAAQBM/d4a7vOEiYI8/s640/Uncluttered1.jpg" height="640" width="427" /></div><br /><object width="250" height="40"><param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf"><param name="wmode" value="window"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=8575878&style=metal&p=0"><embed src="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250" height="40" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=8575878&style=metal&p=0" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window"></embed></object><br /></div></div></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-86162471534846766772011-09-12T19:00:00.005-04:002011-09-12T19:10:15.465-04:00We All Want to Grow With the Seeds We Will Sow<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/TRwESoP9pqzuDK5CgPLalC0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-q6aIUj5CU_Q/Tm6Q6g7n4YI/AAAAAAAAP_Q/ZskXk2aH2oQ/s640/Pictures.jpg" height="427" width="640" /></a></div><br /><object width="250" height="40"><param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf"><param name="wmode" value="window"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=24812566&style=metal&p=0"><embed src="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250" height="40" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=24812566&style=metal&p=0" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window"></embed></object>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-50332216093752649552011-09-05T20:11:00.005-04:002011-09-05T20:21:07.676-04:00Lost and Clearly Delirious: Top 11 Search Terms That Brought People Here<div>11. whack a mole guacamole</div><div>10. i have a dress and i dont quite fill it out</div><div>9. hate the word cuddle</div><div>8. is chlorophyll in guacamole?</div><div>7. pros and cons of botellon</div><div>6. i like to have my feet touched</div><div>5. second grade persuasive essay</div><div>4. black maureens</div><div>3. how 2 make a sex toy with paper</div><div>2. dont fuck with me</div><div>1. harry potter leggings</div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-9455540931275562212011-09-01T19:34:00.006-04:002012-05-06T14:14:30.012-04:00My dear, but if I make the pearly gates I'll do my best to make a drawingTwo and a half years ago, I drew a<a href="http://yousayjump.blogspot.com/2009/02/trapeze-swinger.html"> sketch</a> of a poster of words from "The Trapeze Swinger" I eventually wanted to make when I had time and supplies. Thanks to graduation and my brother's old prismacolor markers, I have a new poster.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2AH4Px6fcrY/TmAbGqH_t4I/AAAAAAAAP7w/0wtwp6BH1RY/s1300/Uncluttered.jpg" /></div>
<br />
<object height="40" width="250"><param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf">
<param name="wmode" value="window">
<param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always">
<param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=25887138&style=metal&p=0">
<embed src="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250" height="40" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=25887138&style=metal&p=0" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window"></embed></object>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-19810780128132307432011-08-30T18:05:00.003-04:002011-08-30T18:14:00.891-04:00YǔEmily wanted a t-shirt with the Chinese character for rain on it. I've been in an art-making mood and I like mailing her things, so I made her one. I think it turned out pret-ty naiiiice and the colors even go with my blog. Yeehaw!
<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4A7H-6lhUB69B_U29h2leS0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8GbcwVPBF2U/Tl1f8y_YpjI/AAAAAAAAP3c/SOWoG1Umxcc/s640/Uncluttered.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-26858114287770075382011-08-09T17:23:00.014-04:002011-08-20T00:52:37.172-04:00Do!<b>See</b><div><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/F5Ec4i0uEq6UBpU1rKRsli0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-OWRbo1OmdP8/Tk8TaLd0GtI/AAAAAAAAPyM/EKmEq2UkYpc/s800/tumblr_kxncpxIDrj1qzzlrvo1_500.jpg" height="300" width="450" /></a></div><div>West Philadelphia</div><div><div>
<br /></div><div><div><b>Hear</b></div><div><b></b><object width="250" height="40"><param name="movie" value="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf"><param name="wmode" value="window"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="flashvars" value="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=30736673&style=metal&p=0"><embed src="http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="250" height="40" flashvars="hostname=cowbell.grooveshark.com&songIDs=30736673&style=metal&p=0" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window"></embed></object>
<br />Patrick Wolf: Bermondsey Street
<br /><div>
<br /></div><div><b>Smell</b></div><div><b>"</b><i>Sigmund Frued famously claimed that humans have lost their sense of smell through evolution. But by his early thirties, he had so many sinus problems he was a medical nightmare and probably couldn't smell anything. So he assumed everyone else couldn’t either. Well, there's a Freudian term for that: it’s called projection.</i>" </div><div> -<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: georgia; line-height: 22px; "><a href="http://worldsciencefestival.com/blog/instant_reaction_the_invisible_language_of_smell">Avery Gilbert</a></span>
<br /></div><div>
<br /></div><div><b>Taste</b></div><div><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/m1qAfnniE2bdv6EmKINEuy0g1SZayefajnI7IH9FTEw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tkDU_EmGzPs/Tk8Q9Iui6KI/AAAAAAAAPxw/Qy0HbFKxpjA/s400/simple-summer-recipe-roasted-tomato-tartine-152051.jpg" height="400" width="317" /></a>
<br /></div><div><a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/main-dish/simple-summer-recipe-roasted-tomato-tartine-152051?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+apartmenttherapy%2Fthekitchn+%28The+Kitchn%29">Tomato Tartine</a></div><div>
<br /></div><div><b>Feel</b>
<br />Just when it has seemed I couldn’t bear
<br />one more friend
<br />waking with a tumor, one more maniac
<br />
<br />with a perfect reason, often a sweetness
<br />has come
<br />and changed nothing in the world
<br />
<br />except the way I stumbled through it,
<br />for a while lost
<br />in the ignorance of loving
<br />
<br />someone or something, the world shrunk
<br />to mouth-size,
<br />hand-size, and never seeming small.
<br />
<br />I acknowledge there is no sweetness
<br />that doesn’t leave a stain,
<br />no sweetness that’s ever sufficiently sweet ....
<br />
<br />Tonight a friend called to say his lover
<br />was killed in a car
<br />he was driving. His voice was low
<br />
<br />and guttural, he repeated what he needed
<br />to repeat, and I repeated
<br />the one or two words we have for such grief
<br />
<br />until we were speaking only in tones.
<br />Often a sweetness comes
<br />as if on loan, stays just long enough
<br />
<br />to make sense of what it means to be alive,
<br />then returns to its dark
<br />source. As for me, I don’t care
<br />
<br />where it’s been, or what bitter road
<br />it’s traveled
<br />to come so far, to taste so good.</div><div>
<br />"Sweetness" by Stephen Dunn from<i> New and Selected Poems 1974-1994</i></div></div></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-81923948077691996232011-07-03T19:44:00.007-04:002011-07-03T21:20:02.943-04:00Gift Giving: I am (>) Martha StewartStep 1: <a href="http://www.signingsavvy.com/sign/PEACE">Find a source</a><br /><br />Step 2: Take photos<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-qSFcRLeo17Y/ThD_-NbBy9I/AAAAAAAAPV8/dMViu2AEcrk/s640/Blog_1-2.jpg" height="183" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">golf clap, pray, ninja</div>Step 3: Draw<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ekbtSvEWUN0/ThD_SLXA3KI/AAAAAAAAPVw/TTxOKTQSPDM/s400/peace1.jpg" height="150" width="312" /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZPoqkV4i1KQ/ThD_SlXco-I/AAAAAAAAPV0/r9EHB4_aHuQ/s288/peace2.jpg" height="270" width="263" /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OybTuCjtgmM/ThD_TEWN3hI/AAAAAAAAPV4/cTj8AsLu9IQ/s400/peace3.jpg" height="185" width="400" /></div><br />Step 4: Stencil<div><br /></div><div>Step 5: Paint<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Step 5: Ask your little brother to model</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VOf-YWA6pmU/ThETm1VSTXI/AAAAAAAAPXg/XV6fGdrYwFU/s400/27%252520Summer%2525202011.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Step 6: To the mail!</div></div></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-88037842732130697542011-03-26T19:05:00.015-04:002011-09-12T19:48:37.316-04:00Under where?Have you every cried in a store’s dressing room? Pathetic. I did for the first time last weekend during hour 5 of The Great Little Bra Search. Hungry, frustrated, and generally pissed, I cleaned myself up and left, passing an ironically place advertisement for breast enhancement surgery on my way to the bus stop.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h2UIzqnI/AAAAAAAAOfo/s3Caj7c018o/s400/Pictures.jpg" height="300" width="300" /><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Crying over clothes is the ultimate Lifetime Original Movie moment. It’s self-absorbed and childish, but I was so fed up. Bra shopping is an exercise in submitting yourself to unsolicited advice from every salesperson you ask for help. The woman at Victoria’s Secret laughed when I asked if they carried my size. Someone at Macy’s recommended I go to the children’s department. When I asked a man at the Gap where bras were, he said “Why?”<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> I’m looking at this issue from a position of privilege.<br /><br />You know what? I’m really skinny. Sometimes I like ny body and sometimes I don’t, but I realize that the one or two offhanded “eat a sandwich” comments that I get are nothing compared to what people who are fat face. In fact, the comments I usually get about my body are overwhelmingly complimentary. The images I see of beauty and health all look pretty much like me. I can’t remember anyone ever drawing attention to what I eat, people don’t dance around words to try to find some elusive value-free word when trying to describe what my body looks like, and I don’t have anyone justifying some sense of disgust by invoking suspect medical data. I don’t want to have a pity party to bring attention to the plight of the skinny girl, I want to talk about the intersection of gender, body types, and commercialism.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> Clothes don’t fit me.<br /><br />Clothes have never fit me. When all the other 6th grade girls were growing into their hips, I was left in their hormonal dust. The only memory I have of New Year’s Eve 2000 is trying to decide if more people would laugh behind my back for having the audacity to wear a bra when I didn’t need one or for not wearing a bra when everyone else was. A particularly nasty fellow girl scout troop member asked me if I would wear shoes if I didn’t have feet. When I said “no” she asked why I wore a bra. If anyone asked me now, I’d punch her in the boobs and say “good luck trying to find mine” but I was a docile teenage lamb.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h0fCoGuI/AAAAAAAAOfc/rDRlk9HuIZM/s400/Blog_11-2.jpg" height="286" width="400" /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;">One of these things is not like the other</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Luckily, being a flat-chested weirdo meant that I had a good amount of alone time which I spent learning how to sew. Sewing your own clothes is empowering in that you no longer rely on companies to produce things to suit you and constructive in that you start to look for potential in very ugly things. The downside of knowing how to sew is that you are totally and completely to blame for all your poor fashion choices when you look back on pictures.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h1CuUhZI/AAAAAAAAOfg/M8Wqb2sOSPY/s400/Blog_12.jpg" height="286" width="400" /></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;">Why yes, those are wooden mud shoes that 12-year-old me<br />modeled after Japanese geta shoes</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">. And you know I made that poncho.</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> Shopping is how we create ourselves<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">We’re taught to buy things to show what kind of a person we are. I’m not sure what “we” I’m talking about because saying things like “society” or “America” makes me feel like I'm pulling words out of nowhere. But we are. Everything from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine%27s_Day">love</a> to <a href="http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2011/03/23/humanitarian-consumption-ralph-laurens-japan-hope-shirts/">philanthropy</a> to <a href="http://www.breastcancerawarenessgifts.net/jingle-jugs-new-version-record-your-own-message-animatronic-singing-dancing-boobs-gag-gift/">cancer awareness</a> is buyable. It might be that we’re all lonely peacocks who can’t find a better way to wear our hearts on our sleeves, but we buy to show we care.</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Since so much of our culture revolves around the buying and selling of things, every time we merchandize something, we welcome it into our society. Do you want paper? Excellent! Not only are thousands of stores solely devoted to selling different types of paper, you can buy it almost anywhere. There’s nothing objectionable about paper. Do you want a sex toy? Er, you're not going to be able to pick that up in a department store.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h3K1BRCI/AAAAAAAAOfs/VZVVS_LP7Vk/s400/Pictures-1.jpg" height="300" width="300" /></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;">I don't understand this ad</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">Similarly, clothing stores' inventories reflect a combination good business and social acceptability. Their stock of sizes is usually a normal curve, with medium sizes being overstocked and small and large sizes being understocked or not carried at all. <a href="http://youlookfab.com/2011/03/14/why-the-smallest-clothing-sizes-are-under-stocked/">Smaller sizes</a> are understocked due to a smaller demand while <a href="http://www.crainsnewyork.com/article/20090531/FREE/305319991">larger sizes</a> aren’t carried (except sometimes online) because of undesirability.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">"Flesh also suggests the threateningly female, moistness and blood, the hothouse clutches of a heavy-breasted mother—off putting images for male fashion designers."</span><br /> Daphne Merkin, “The F Word,” The New York Times Style Magazine, Fall 2010<br /></blockquote></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> America is obsessed with breasts<br /><br /><a href="http://www.parentstv.org/ptc/news/release/2009/0220.asp">Wardrobe malfunctions</a>, <a href="http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/i-did-it-for-science/i-did-it-for-science-topless-in-the-park">toplessness</a>, and public breastfeed are only some of the more egregious examples of breast outrage. We’re simultaneously terrified and obsessed with them.<br /><br />I don’t quite fill out a 32A but even if I did, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_of_Prussia_Mall">America’s biggest mall</a> only carries 2 bras in that size (neither of them cheaper than $45) and to be honest, it made me feel unfeminine. As much I try to be aware of what’s going on, that doesn’t mean that I’m not affected by it.<br /><br />We equate breasts with femininity and associate femininity with with bows and lace and that just doesn’t always work for me. When I realized that queer culture existed and started seeing that there were a thousand ways a woman could look, it was eye-opening. I took all my sewing skills and the knowledge that there were hot androgynous girls and went for every corner of the gender spectrum. I don’t want to look the same every day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h3rcZwoI/AAAAAAAAOfw/SvfDJb8ngUE/s400/Pictures1.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /></div><br />But here’s my secret: underwear is my weakness. It’s called “intimates” at stupid department stores for a reason. It’s what sits closest to my skin all day and and so when I can’t find any that fits me, I feel weird. I can make any pair of underwear--men’s or women’s--fit me and look good, but it’s not very comfortable, physically or otherwise. I’m not a child and telling me to go to the girl’s department is demeaning. On the other hand, when I feel this way, I’m just another victim of the consumerist culture. But again, awareness is't the same as transcendence. Buying clothes is agonizing when you don’t quite fit into the size or gender that most other people do. We like everyone to be the same so that we don’t get too confused and so that we can keep making money.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> I am graduating in 46 days<br /></div><br />And I need a job. I tried to go to a job fair last month and was turned away because I wasn’t dressed appropriately. I was wearing my nicest boots and dress pants, a button down shirt, and a vest. My friend who was wearing heels and a flowy flowy shirt was allowed in and got two interviews. I’m all for taking the money and absconding, but I’m not sure how to make it in the real world when the rules from junior high make a comeback and I’m not allowed to sit at a cool table at lunch because I’m not dressed like everyone else.<br /><br />Maybe I what I need to do is find people--someone femme-y, someone more masculine, someone fat, etc.--and open a store where we cater to people like us. If there’s anything that 4 years of sociology has taught me it’s that I’m never the only one with a problem. It might not make sense since commodification is not something I want more of, but sometimes you’ve got to fight fire with fire. We could teach people how to sew or offer tailoring so that they’re ultimately the ones in charge of what they’re wearing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fact:</span> The only person who can decide what looks good on you is you<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/__80whbieCqU/TY6h1t0tSiI/AAAAAAAAOfk/_c3U5lQfKYw/s400/MIA%2Bmaya.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></div></div></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-15491146002862600242010-12-14T17:33:00.014-05:002011-07-03T21:36:32.362-04:00Estic Terminat*Oh look, it's been 4 months and I'm already going home. I liked a lot, I didn't like a lot and I'm coming back.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I'm very very ready for</span><br /><br />+Food<br /><i>Specifically Chick-fil-a, apple cider, pumpkin anything, Hi Bombay!, peanut butter, flavor, popcorn, butter, broccoli, Mexican food, milk, and a source of protein other than pig.<br /></i><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VV-W-UaI/AAAAAAAAL4g/FIZpSZekCt4/s400/missing1.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /></div><br />+Being able to read a book from the library or a bookstore without having to think really hard whilst reading<br /><br />+People I know<br /><br />+Having a telephone that works<br /><br />+Smoking bans in public places<br /><i>I'm tired of airing out my smoky clothes from the night before since I a) forgot to bring Febreze b) don't get to do my own laundry and c) only have 2 pairs of pants.</i><br /><br />+Snow<br /><i>Until Christmas and then I want that ish gone.<br /></i><br />+Being able to express anger or excitement or really any emotion and not sounding like an idiot<br /><br />+Affordable shoes<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I'm going to miss</span><br /><br />+Being able to walk everywhere<br /><i>Because it's never colder than 50F/10C, the sidewalks are huge, and everything's close. I'm especially going to miss my walk to school.</i><div><i><br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VUAdOCuI/AAAAAAAAL4c/hv8D45TnTUc/s640/missing.jpg" height="171" width="640" /><br /></div><br />+People being really comfortable with their bodies<br /><i>Also my breasts would like a healthy tan next year.<br /></i><br />+The metro<br /><i>The metro here had countdowns to tell you when the next train is coming, runs all night on Saturdays, costs 7.95€ for 10 trips, and has escalators. This is a far cry from arcade city Philadelphia, where the sham of the subway operates on tokens and frequently forgets to stop at my station.<br /></i><br />+The metric system<br /><br />+Noa<br /><i>Yesterday, Noa built our pessebre/nativity which really deserves an entire post to itself for you to be able to fully appreciate the comedy value of it.<br /></i><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VIHfQDHI/AAAAAAAAL4I/arTaGCwSd4Y/s640/missing4.jpg" height="256" width="640" /><br /></div><br />+Being able to speak three languages<br /><i>This is a fun game: harto [spanish for tired] > fart [catalan for tired] > pet [catalan for fart, also a popular rock band] > mascota [spanish for pet]<br /></i><br />+The beach<br /><br />+The mountains<br /><br />+The women<br /><i>They have nice arms, they don't wear much makeup, they have shiny hair, they wear sensible clothes, they speak Spanish.<br /></i><br />+Living next to a church<br /><i>1/2 due to the laziness-inducing time-telling bells and 1/2 because it smells really nice and calming when I walk through it on my way home.<br /></i><br />+Juliet<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VQbgkvII/AAAAAAAAL4U/hkoHA5oiDkc/s400/missing8.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /></div><br />+Everyone having their own style<br /><i>Note the stroller: actual adults dress like this.<br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VSfWWPfI/AAAAAAAAL4Y/j7u7259YJUI/s640/missing9.jpg" height="427" width="640" /><br /></div><br />+Dogs without leashes<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VGyJ13LI/AAAAAAAAL4E/RVzIejohqiI/s640/missing3.jpg" height="171" width="640" /><br /></div><br />+Kids<br /><i>There's really no idea of kids' space and adults' space here. You'd have to search really hard to find someone who says things like, "Why couldn't they just have left the kids at home" and even if you did find them, they would probably not be from Barcelona. Parents bring their kids to bars, babies don't cry [much], and no one freaks the eff out about child molesters.<br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VYsAyhXI/AAAAAAAAL4k/xIEchq1EFx8/s400/missing6.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><br />+Cheap things, flights, food, drinks, and metros<br /><br />+Not tipping<br /><br />+My gym<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VKHwvuBI/AAAAAAAAL4M/bWnbkT_gUYQ/s400/missing5.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><i><div><i><br /></i></div>I would like to take Eloi, the trainer who chats with me while I exercise, with me please. And the cute cycling instructor with a tegan piercing who sings along to the music over her microphone while she's teaching classes. And the fingerprint scanners so I don't have to carry a card around.<br /></i><br />+Monopoly money<br /><br />+People standing patiently in line</div><div><i>If there is a line. You know those signs at King's Island:<br /></i><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VFoOg9jI/AAAAAAAAL4A/EW2l28EZKxE/s400/missing2.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><i>Those would not exist here because people just don't care. If you're in a grocery chain or clothes store, no one cares about waiting around for 10 minutes until it's their turn, and if you're in a market it's an all-out push or be pushed smilefest of nice people.<br /></i><br />+Assorted weirdness<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TQ_VOZ0-lqI/AAAAAAAAL4Q/pafNQs2s9BY/s400/missing7.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><br /><b>Coming soon</b>: Me throwing up all over you about how much I loved Morocco. As soon as my roommate from the trip sends me our photos.<br /><br />*I know it should be "estic terminada" since I'm a girl, but you can't sing that to the tune of "Feliz Navidad."</div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-81640189817848689612010-12-03T05:58:00.010-05:002011-07-03T21:41:42.169-04:00On Culture and Offensive LanguageIf you've been to Spain or read anything I've had to say about it, you know that the Spanish have a special relationship with ham. In any predominantly Christian culture, taking the Lord's name is vain is not nice, but what happens when you have a Catholic country that is obsessed with pig products? I'll tell you what happens, you get a place where "Jesus Christ!" and "and a ham!" are equally offensive exclamations. When you look at how people insult each other, you see a lot about their values.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPjNIf8ADQI/AAAAAAAALk4/e3BgKqz_fXQ/s400/Desktop-2.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><br />In Harry Potter, there's a scene where Ron calls Harry a loser and storms out. In the subtitles, he calls him <span style="font-style: italic;">inútil</span> which is Spanish for "unhelpful." Just a few days ago, someone asked one of my teachers how to say "loser" in Spanish. She said there really isn't any translation, not because they don't have a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YgSPaXgAdzE">word</a>, but because winning and losing aren't important concepts in Spain (except when it comes to soccer). Calling a Spaniard a loser wouldn't make any sense to them; they'd just ask, "What did I lose?"<br /><br />In America*, we're a capitalist society. Winning means success and losing means failure, laziness, and undesirability. Spain's socialist system means that helpfulness is more important than personal achievement.<br /><br />Spain's socialism is visible on public transportation. While you have to swipe your ticket to enter the metro, the trams are set up so that it's up to you to validate your ticket once you're on board. In three months, I've never seen anyone come around to enforce the 50 Euro fine in place for unvalidated tickets, yet every single person who gets on the tram makes sure they pay for their ride. Half the signs at every stop encourage passengers to look out for the common good, saying <span style="font-style: italic;">"Valida tu título. Todos queremos un buen servicio," </span>"Validate your ticket, we all want good service."<br /><br />The other half of the signs have a more Big Brother feel.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPjNdWrYIEI/AAAAAAAALk8/JyCCYS8jh9A/s400/Desktop1.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">"Validate your ticket, we're all watching you." Pros and cons to every system, right?<br /><br />It seems like something that's culturally ingrained, but then I see people jump the turnstile to get on the metro. When I think about it, though, it's mostly at night and they're almost always drunk teenagers and young foreign tourists. People here take their three different recycling bags up to 10 blocks to put it into the right bins. 1st graders take themselves to school on the metro. Barcelona is a city without dog parks because dogs are trained so they don't need a leash. Responsibility is taken seriously so that life is easier for everyone.<br /></div></div><br />In unrelated idiomatic expressions, if someone asks you on a date and you turn then down, you "give them the pumpkin."<br /><br />*I know Harry Potter is a British book and movie, but if the number of advertisements I saw in the UK are any indication, competition is alive and well there too. That's nor to say that people in Spain don't compete or aren't driven, but it seems that after years of Franquimo, the culture is more willing to value diversity (meaning there's not one universally accepted continuum of success and failure) whether it's in the political structure of the autonomous communities and languages, rights for minority groups, or respect for jobs that are not as high-powered but necessary for the city to function.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-31150537652272505182010-11-29T12:11:00.010-05:002011-07-03T21:42:42.948-04:00Cataluña: Bringing a Whole New Meaning to the Yule Log<span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I'm excited about</span><br />+Seeing my family<br />+Going to Bravo for Christmas Eve Dinner<br />+Having adequate cold-weather clothing<br />+Showering for longer than 30 seconds<br />+Playing cards<br />+My dog<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPPsMUnmlbI/AAAAAAAALiA/X-YScjAfkH8/s400/Blog_1.jpg" height="286" width="400" /><br /></div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I miss about home</span><br />+My grandma's Christmas party<br />+Our advent calendar<br />+Making cookies and buckeyes<br />+Getting a Christmas tree<br /><br />But none of this [okay, some of it, but definitely not showering] compares to how in love I am with Cataluña's Christmas traditions. This is a land obsessed with 4 things: pigs, fire, olive oil, and poo. Christmas wouldn't be a real holiday without at least two of these things figuring into the celebrating somehow.<br /><br />Maybe you've heard that instead of Santa Claus, the 3 Kings come on January 6th to deliver presents, but they aren't the only ones. On December 8thish, everyone pulls out their Tió de Nadal. He's a log with a face propped up on two sticks and he looks like this:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPPsWq6M3jI/AAAAAAAALiU/PzP0LrAfl0o/s400/Blog_1-1.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><br />Terrifying. Every night until Christmas, kids bring him food (ham, probably) and drinks and cover him with a blanket to keep him comfy. When Christmas morning comes and he's nice and full, they sing "Caga tió!" which means "Poo, log!" and hit him with a stick so that he'll poo. According to Carme Bach, world's most adorable Catalán teacher, you can make the tió go faster if you light the sticks on fire first. When it's finally had enough abuse, the log then poos out candy and little presents for everybody.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dB_N7-HXTlI?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dB_N7-HXTlI?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br /></div>Cute shit. Literally.<br /><br />But wait, there's more! For all you skeptics out there who think that the Christmas story is just a little too good to be true, check out the Catalán nativity. It's exactly like a American nativity except for one extra guy: the caganer/pooer who's included to make the scene more realistic.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPPsYRJgcVI/AAAAAAAALiY/bSZn-Vsog9o/s400/Blog_11-1.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Should you choose to subscribe to Wikipedia's alternate <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caganer">theory</a> that the caganer is only there for kids, you should take into consideration that in 2005 there was an outcry with the city didn't include him in the public nativity. Due to protests, he was included again in 2006.<br /></div><br /><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPPsSMEDlSI/AAAAAAAALiI/H7fhxMVlJhA/s400/Blog_11.jpg" height="400" width="267" /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">p.s. Barcelona's not completely poo. They've got giant pasta Christmas lights all over the city which is more or less all I could ever want in a holiday decoration decoration.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/__80whbieCqU/TPPufipko8I/AAAAAAAALi4/uqUkcXboseg/s400/Desktop-1.jpg" height="267" width="400" /><br /></div><br /></div></div>p.p.s. DAD, I know you're reading this. Do not even think about telling Ian about the pooer or the log. He's getting one for Christmas, obvs.laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7952376288561177474.post-87162018065272779402010-11-03T12:36:00.007-04:002011-09-12T19:58:03.038-04:00You Wish Young Eyes Could See You Grow OlderDo you remember <a href="http://www.tv.com/the-adventures-of-pete-and-pete/hard-days-pete/episode/53358/recap.html">that episode of Pete & Pete</a> when Pete hears the best song he's ever heard but can't remember how it goes and know one knows what it is and he's worried that he's going to lose it forever? I didn't think that story was relevant anymore because all you have to do is type "lyrics" and "whatever words you remember" into google and you instantly know what it is. A few weeks ago though, I was in H&M not really paying attention to the music until I realized that I had been listening to the best song I've ever heard in my life. I tried to remember some words but they were too hard to understand and there were only 20 seconds left in the song so I hummed the part I remembered and hoped I'd figure out some way to type that into google. <a href="http://cgi.sfu.ca/~gpeters/tapper/search.cgi?id=8660">This</a>, asking people if they've heard a song that sounded like a mix between Coldplay, Patrick Wolf, and Sigur Ros, and looking for an H&M playlist didn't work but spending 4 hours on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=21415640912&topic=5602&post=79690#topic_top">this</a> did. There's not really any moral to this story, it's just something to say about a song that I like so much that I don't have anything to say about it.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/9289064?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=ffffff" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen="" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>laurahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17626871088276947522noreply@blogger.com5