Archive forNovember, 2008

Why does it always rain on me?

For once that horrid big TV in the SMCC campus center is on something bearable! Usually I do my best to ignore it, but the only outlet for my computer was right underneath. Thankfully, the history channel is on, and it’s a program about the milky way and black holes. Hurray! Physics!

I spent the night with Mal, and she took me to school the next morning. As in, this morning. The weather was unexpected. Well, by me. It’s so windy! And of course, this campus is on the beach, so the wind is that much stronger. It was hard to keep my balance. The fifteen pound backpack helped.
Let’s see- I’ve thought more about my music list. Here are some other songs I like or have been listening to lately:
Why Does it Always Rain on Me- Travis
James Ward- decent eighties rock! unbelievable.
a little Rachmaninov.
I do still like to listen to Beethoven’s Pathetique
And more Muse. Time is Running Out, Supermassive Black Hole.
Faye Christie. Mal introduced me to this woman- she plays at Mal’s camp and is a very folky, calm sort of musician. I like the simplicity of her words. Good Bible music.

There’s a lot of music I want to get at this point…some of the songs listed above (I need Muse so I don’t have to get it on youtube) and some others I can’t recall right now- oh, Ralph Vaughan Williams Five Variants of Dives and Lazarus, and his Sinfonia Antartica, which is one of the most fascinating pieces of music I’ve ever heard. And his fantasia on Greensleeves. I can’t think what else.

Waiting for Dad to get out of class so we can go home. I’m eager to get into my warm bed- it feels like it’s been forever since I have. Thursday through Saturday I was gone, and then Sunday I slept at home, but last night was at Mal’s. At any rate, it will be warm and dry and cozy! After this day of perpetually wet clothes, that is something to look forward to indeed.

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Mal’s home and I get to see her for a day. So that’s nice.
I’m tired. I saw four shows this weekend. Thursday night was Kayla and Bethany’s concert at Merrill, Friday was a production of Emma, Saturday was Matt and Than’s play, and Sunday I saw Krissy in Sound of Music. Up till midnight all but Sunday.
I’m listening to Warsaw Concerto. I’ve been listening to some really interesting music lately…here’s my top list for now:
Warsaw Concerto
Pomplamoose
Butterflies and Hurricanes, Starlight, and Muscle Museum by Muse
Erik Satie

Drew is trying to buy my iPod from me, and I’m afraid he’ll do it when I’m not looking, so I’d better go.

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I haven’t got anything very interesting to say, but I’d like to write something. Anyway, it’s not as though “my readers are depending on me!” as Than would say.
I got up at nine-thirty today and went back to bed at twelve-thirty, and then didn’t get up again until three-thirty, at which time I took a shower. Then I threw on a coat and went for a walk. It gets dark so early. I’ve lived here all my life, and somehow it still surprises me every year. You’d think I’d be used to the darkness by now.
Deep doldrums today. It has been so grey, and that makes everything harder. My walk was nice, though. It was warm but misting, which felt very nice on my hot cheeks. I’ve always hated the way my face turns so brilliantly red. Isn’t it enough that I have spots? I don’t need to be red, too.
Well, before I regret typing that, I’ll move on. Standish is a nice place to walk. I feel safe from people, anyway. The woods are very thick and brooding at night, and with the woodsmoke from the scattered houses and the mustiness of leaves and the fresh smell of the rain, there was a very nice scent. So I enjoyed that somewhat.
I did get the Communist Manifesto and am reading it. One chapter left in the Titanic book, and then I think I’m going to read some Elsie Dinsmore. I like those books.

We (the Libbys and I) are having a dinner entirely composed of pie tonight. We had a full leftover apple pie from a church supper last night, and Mrs. L made a chicken pot pie to precede it. Excellent.

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He does not care for growing things.

I’m starting to feel my interest in writing return. It’s been several months since I’ve written regularly in my diary. After five years, I’m reluctant to let myself stop. So I’m thankful that my desire to chronicle is coming back.

Books are nice, aren’t they? Suddenly my interest in classics has been piqued. Right now, I’m reading a book titled The Sinking of the Titanic and Great Sea Disasters. It was written directly after the Titanic was sunk, and is now republished by Vision Forum. I find it very interesting for a few reasons: firstly, because I’ve really not paid attention to the story of the Titanic before, secondly, because it was written in a time before revisionist histories, when ‘women and children first’ was honorable instead of undignified, and thirdly, because it’s full of “thrilling stories of survivors with photographs and sketches.”

I talked on the phone with Matt last night, and he mentioned he was going to the library, so I asked him to look for The Communist Manifesto for me. I’ve been wanting to read it and don’t often have a chance to get to the library myself. I tried reading Das Kapital at one point, and failed dismally.

Also on my list of subjects right now are several topics that I’ve run into and decided I want to read more about: Anastasia and Tsar Nicholas II’s family, more Russian history in general, the Birkenhead Drill (another sea disaster), the Reformation, Norse Mythology, the Brothers Grimm because my Matt recommended them, and I think it’s time I finally read the Kalevala, the national Finnish epic Mom gave me for Christmas three years ago. I’ve been saving it for a rainy…month.

Additionally, I found a book lying on the floor by the head of the stairs that looked nice and read it. It was called Quest for the Faradawn, and had a faded, seventies-fantasy cover. It dawned on me that I very rarely read new books that I don’t have some explicit reason to read, so I picked it up. Quest for the Faradawn, isn’t that a nice name? The book was pleasant.

Speaking of books, I laughed at myself the other day when I looked at one of my bookshelves. It’s really a mounting cupboard that is leaning against the wall, and I started stacking books on it because the dinky bookshelf I inherited from Dad is not big enough for all my collection. Here’s what I saw on this shelf:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Holy Bible (from 1865)
The Lord of the Rings one volume illustrated by A. Lee
Hits for Misses (monologues)
Abraham Lincoln (play)
Pride and Prejudice (play)
Better Speeches for All Occasions
I Kissed Dating Goodbye
Dear America: The Diary of a Prairie Teacher
The Bible Promise Book
Spiritual Privileges (Mostrom)
Intimacy with God (Mostrom)
Little Faith
Costume Monologues
The Road Unseen
NIV New Testament
Piled above these horizontally are: Boy Meets Girl, The New Manners and Customs of Bible Times, and Calvin’s The Institutes of Christian Religion.

The following three shelves are mostly things like my seven filled diaries and journals, but a few books:
Little Women
Charles Dickens Works
NIV NT from the Gideons
Daily Light
Proverbs, The Message
The Origin of the Bible
The Message
How to Stay Alive in the Woods
Health Foods
The Heart of the Chronicles of Narnia

And to top it off, these are stacked nearby:
Psalms for Singing
Moominvalley in November, Comet in Moominland, Moominland Midwinter, and The Exploits of Moominpappa
Encountering the Old Testament
and John Greenleaf Whittier.

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