Early estimates say I will owe the federal government around $300 in taxes. In juxtaposition, the state owes me about 20 bucks.
Some say it's taboo to speak about money, but this is disconcerting. I only worked part of the year, but my income was less than $12,000 before deductions. How does the federal government have the gall to say I owe it $300 when a reasonably established, middle-class family gets $2,000 back? This is very seriously screwed up. Granted, I don't have kids to pay for and all that jazz, but still -- I'm lucky to not be pinching every penny right now. How could someone making even less than this get by? I'm not positive yet I'll come up with the money to even pay the silly feds.
And another thing -- universal healthcare. I heard today that the United States is the only industrialized nation without it. Quite possibly that's a little inaccurate, but we get the picture. Further, it sounded like the U.S. was in the minority for even linking healthcare to employment.
Yes, it can be well argued, universal health care means the standards for everyone go down. Research may take a hit. Private companies have less incentive to work harder and faster. But at least everyone's cared for!
Sacrifice. We're rarely asked to do it lately as a country. "Not in my backyard." Suck it up. Sometimes you lose a little so more people can lose less.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
You know you have found a friend when you've found an author who can explain one of those feelings you had that you wondered if anyone else on earth did, too.
"Who are they, and what are you talking about?"
"The Elves, sir. We had some talk last night; and they seemed to know you were going away, so I didn't see the use of denying it. Wonderful folk, Elves, sir! Wonderful!"
"They are," said Frodo. "Do you like them still, now you have had a closer view?"
"They seem a bit above my likes and dislikes, so to speak," answered Sam slowly. "It don't seem to matter what I think about them."
--"Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien (and Reason #36 why I love Sam)
Jane's "moon secret," as she called it, was the one thing she hadn't shared with mother or Jody. She couldn't, somehow. It was her very own. To tell about it would be to destroy it.
-- "Jane of Lantern Hill" by L.M. Montgomery
"Who are they, and what are you talking about?"
"The Elves, sir. We had some talk last night; and they seemed to know you were going away, so I didn't see the use of denying it. Wonderful folk, Elves, sir! Wonderful!"
"They are," said Frodo. "Do you like them still, now you have had a closer view?"
"They seem a bit above my likes and dislikes, so to speak," answered Sam slowly. "It don't seem to matter what I think about them."
--"Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien (and Reason #36 why I love Sam)
Jane's "moon secret," as she called it, was the one thing she hadn't shared with mother or Jody. She couldn't, somehow. It was her very own. To tell about it would be to destroy it.
-- "Jane of Lantern Hill" by L.M. Montgomery
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
the new job
Stopping to visit my new job today, I wasn't even positive which street it was on.
In two to three weeks I will become editor of the Hawarden Independent/Ireton Examiner. The title sounds glamorous but is far from it. While it does imply correctly that there is no editorial staff (aside from the publisher) "over" me, there are no employees "under" me, either. Still, it's exciting to say I'm editor of a newspaper at 23. Nevermind that my predecessor was editor of a newspaper at 22, and nevermind that the circulation is probably not much over 1,000.
The office was, luckily, where I guessed.
The first thing I see is a sign in the door stating the business is closed Wednesdays. Knowing for a fact my predecessor (a friend and NW grad) does work Wednesdays, I took a chance and turned the knob -- it twisted easily and the door opened right up.
The first thing the staff says to me:
"Your boyfriend doesn't even know where you work when he sends you flowers?"
I don't think they'll ever truly be convinced I don't have a boyfriend or a secret admirer with the initials "U.S."
The office looks homey. Cutesy-grandma artwork is hanging on the walls, plants are scattered about, unlit candles as well. (My first clue that combating personal pyrophobia may be an issue!) The circulation manager picks up a shopper and can identify by phone number the owners of the apartments for rent. She x's out for me those landlords I shouldn't waste my time with, and circles a couple that are more promising. She circles the picture of a realtor in the next town who could recommend apartments there. Linda has lived in this town all her life and knows everyone and is in the community gossip loop. Linda and I will need to be good friends. Knowing the staff from my original job with the company a year ago will make the transition so much easier. I'm excited overall.
Magdalene and Mylan are working on the computers in the back, or sitting at the computers. They're chatting with each other, seated across from a table covered with leftover candy canes and Christmas dishes. It gives the impression the staff gets along so well together that they threw themselves a company Christmas party.
Magdalene takes me down the street to learn some names. She knows everyone, and everyone says I have big shoes to fill (despite my body weight being twice hers). Example of her charm over the community: the insurance agent two doors down regards Magdalene so highly that she was her second choice for a date to the rodeo if her husband wouldn't go. All five pharmacists joke with her when she comes in, and they try to repeat my name back to me.
The apartment hunt may be trickier than I dream, it appears. The majority of the apartments available inside the town should be condemned, in my opinion. In Sioux Center, where I'd ideally go, college students have swamped the waiting lists because they're getting married in May. Orange City is an option, too, but a voice nags that that's a huge mistake.
Life in general is currently overwhelming -- crisis and meltdown are on the horizon. You've been warned.
In two to three weeks I will become editor of the Hawarden Independent/Ireton Examiner. The title sounds glamorous but is far from it. While it does imply correctly that there is no editorial staff (aside from the publisher) "over" me, there are no employees "under" me, either. Still, it's exciting to say I'm editor of a newspaper at 23. Nevermind that my predecessor was editor of a newspaper at 22, and nevermind that the circulation is probably not much over 1,000.
The office was, luckily, where I guessed.
The first thing I see is a sign in the door stating the business is closed Wednesdays. Knowing for a fact my predecessor (a friend and NW grad) does work Wednesdays, I took a chance and turned the knob -- it twisted easily and the door opened right up.
The first thing the staff says to me:
"Your boyfriend doesn't even know where you work when he sends you flowers?"
I don't think they'll ever truly be convinced I don't have a boyfriend or a secret admirer with the initials "U.S."
The office looks homey. Cutesy-grandma artwork is hanging on the walls, plants are scattered about, unlit candles as well. (My first clue that combating personal pyrophobia may be an issue!) The circulation manager picks up a shopper and can identify by phone number the owners of the apartments for rent. She x's out for me those landlords I shouldn't waste my time with, and circles a couple that are more promising. She circles the picture of a realtor in the next town who could recommend apartments there. Linda has lived in this town all her life and knows everyone and is in the community gossip loop. Linda and I will need to be good friends. Knowing the staff from my original job with the company a year ago will make the transition so much easier. I'm excited overall.
Magdalene and Mylan are working on the computers in the back, or sitting at the computers. They're chatting with each other, seated across from a table covered with leftover candy canes and Christmas dishes. It gives the impression the staff gets along so well together that they threw themselves a company Christmas party.
Magdalene takes me down the street to learn some names. She knows everyone, and everyone says I have big shoes to fill (despite my body weight being twice hers). Example of her charm over the community: the insurance agent two doors down regards Magdalene so highly that she was her second choice for a date to the rodeo if her husband wouldn't go. All five pharmacists joke with her when she comes in, and they try to repeat my name back to me.
The apartment hunt may be trickier than I dream, it appears. The majority of the apartments available inside the town should be condemned, in my opinion. In Sioux Center, where I'd ideally go, college students have swamped the waiting lists because they're getting married in May. Orange City is an option, too, but a voice nags that that's a huge mistake.
Life in general is currently overwhelming -- crisis and meltdown are on the horizon. You've been warned.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
confrontophobic
Duty of the evening: cover a public hearing on a county road speed limit.
In a small town, emotions run mighty high on issues that would seem mighty small in the big city. It's a sticky situation that has arisen a couple of times in the past few years -- the two district schools lie in the very northwest corner of a city. And I mean the very corner. If you park in the western parking lots of the high school, you actually arrive at them via county roads. If you continue west of the schools, you are travelling on county road, and within one mile you pass by the entrances to two separate housing developments -- one more middle-class and one extremely ritzy. You'll also pass by a couple of farms and rural residences, four major deer crossings, and the edge of a wildlife refuge within that mile.
The issue: the speed limit is 30 mph from the school throughout this one mile stretch. Residents of these two housing developments are majority of a group that would like to see the speed limit raised to 40 or 45 mph. It is painfully slow to drive the stretch 30 mph when it is legally a rural area you're passing by farms at a residential rate.
The biggest obstacle, of course, is the school being right there when you enter city land, and that people would not be slowing down enough when they approach those driveways. People already speed excessively. (Actually, the bigger problem is that traffic is insane on the one-mile stretch from the schools east to the interstate exit -- it's more or less the only way out of the area for those visiting all two/three schools, half of the city, and the few hundred residents of these two rural developments. There are no shoulders or turning lanes and garages are built right up to the road because they are lakefront homes trying to maximize small, narrow lots.)
Residents of this in-town stretch claim they're practically killed on a daily basis just getting in and out of their driveways and checking their mailboxes. And they're probably telling the truth, but from my view many of them made their own beds when they chose to live in their tiny lakefront lots on the same road as the schools. Some of them did live there before the schools were built, but not many anymore. Then again, these people in the rural developments knew the speed limits before they moved in, too.
Anyhow, confrontophobia. I had an educated guess that the meeting would be a hot one when I chose to cover it -- the other option being a second public controversial public meeting. And it was darn hot -- a few people calling each other names, the city folk and the development folk more or less the Hatfields and the McCoys and talking out of turn and the commissioners not trying hard enough to keep order.
I was extremely tense by the time the hour was up. I nearly got up and left a few times before the majority of the 50 citizens did (people were still yelling their opinions when the majority got sick of listening and all got up at once as if it was over). I can't deal with people being upset with each other. The fact that they might actually hate each other, that their might be issues out there that can't be resolved ... I don't know what it is. I have never been able to deal with conflict. When I was eight, I couldn't watch "The Wonder Years" because Kevin's parents were always yelling at him, or he'd have an argument with Winnie. "Full House" -- in the final mushy moments each episode, I usually flip the channel not for the mushy factor so much as the confrontation.
This is not normal or right. Confrontation is often necessary and often healthy. Goodness knows Jesus did his share of confronting.
In a small town, emotions run mighty high on issues that would seem mighty small in the big city. It's a sticky situation that has arisen a couple of times in the past few years -- the two district schools lie in the very northwest corner of a city. And I mean the very corner. If you park in the western parking lots of the high school, you actually arrive at them via county roads. If you continue west of the schools, you are travelling on county road, and within one mile you pass by the entrances to two separate housing developments -- one more middle-class and one extremely ritzy. You'll also pass by a couple of farms and rural residences, four major deer crossings, and the edge of a wildlife refuge within that mile.
The issue: the speed limit is 30 mph from the school throughout this one mile stretch. Residents of these two housing developments are majority of a group that would like to see the speed limit raised to 40 or 45 mph. It is painfully slow to drive the stretch 30 mph when it is legally a rural area you're passing by farms at a residential rate.
The biggest obstacle, of course, is the school being right there when you enter city land, and that people would not be slowing down enough when they approach those driveways. People already speed excessively. (Actually, the bigger problem is that traffic is insane on the one-mile stretch from the schools east to the interstate exit -- it's more or less the only way out of the area for those visiting all two/three schools, half of the city, and the few hundred residents of these two rural developments. There are no shoulders or turning lanes and garages are built right up to the road because they are lakefront homes trying to maximize small, narrow lots.)
Residents of this in-town stretch claim they're practically killed on a daily basis just getting in and out of their driveways and checking their mailboxes. And they're probably telling the truth, but from my view many of them made their own beds when they chose to live in their tiny lakefront lots on the same road as the schools. Some of them did live there before the schools were built, but not many anymore. Then again, these people in the rural developments knew the speed limits before they moved in, too.
Anyhow, confrontophobia. I had an educated guess that the meeting would be a hot one when I chose to cover it -- the other option being a second public controversial public meeting. And it was darn hot -- a few people calling each other names, the city folk and the development folk more or less the Hatfields and the McCoys and talking out of turn and the commissioners not trying hard enough to keep order.
I was extremely tense by the time the hour was up. I nearly got up and left a few times before the majority of the 50 citizens did (people were still yelling their opinions when the majority got sick of listening and all got up at once as if it was over). I can't deal with people being upset with each other. The fact that they might actually hate each other, that their might be issues out there that can't be resolved ... I don't know what it is. I have never been able to deal with conflict. When I was eight, I couldn't watch "The Wonder Years" because Kevin's parents were always yelling at him, or he'd have an argument with Winnie. "Full House" -- in the final mushy moments each episode, I usually flip the channel not for the mushy factor so much as the confrontation.
This is not normal or right. Confrontation is often necessary and often healthy. Goodness knows Jesus did his share of confronting.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
100 lifetime goals
The Northfield Public Schools use an 8th Grade arts, communication and English program called ACE to which a fourth of each day is dedicated. ACE includes a number of traditional projects such as designing cereal boxes, writing and illustrating children's books, reading "To Kill a Mockingbird," and gathering 100 life goals.
This evening I dug up my list. For your enjoyment, this is what I wanted from life at age ... 14? However old you are in the spring of 8th Grade. Perhaps in future posts I will add some! Or delete.
1. Speak French fluently
2. Live in England for about a year
3. Speak at least four languages fluently (May 2000 amendment specifies English, French, Italian and German)
4. Play a game of Bridge and win
5. Read the entire Bible many times, once every two years (so far isn't working out )
6. Be a servant of others
7. Visit Prince Edward Island
8. Visit France
9. Visit Russia
10. Visit Australia
11. Get married
12. Run five miles without stopping
13. Play a high school sport (oops, missed that one )
14. Play in a big, famous orchestera/symphony (does Sioux City Municipal Band count? :) )
15. Make All-State Band (decided not to audition. Maybe earning a music scholarship is close enough)
16. Be Valedictorian (my high school doesn't have valedictorians... and wouldn't have made it anyway)
17. Keep in touch with Liz (college student friend of our family at the time) for her or my entire life (don't know where she even lives)
18. Be a Junior Posse (tour guide) at Northfield Historical Society (done June '98)
19. Be the Junior Curator coordinator my sophomore summer (summer assistant to the museum director) (done June '99)
20. To have two dogs named Monsieur Bob and Pete
21. See an Agatha Christie play in London
22. Not hate anyone
23. Have a lead role in a big play
24. Not be self-centered (hm, scratch that one)
25. Learn more about World War II
26. Read "Les Miserables" in French and English
27. Spend more time with my dad (check)
28. Encourage others
29. Be a counselor at Big Sandy Camp (take that off the list)
30. Practice my clarinet more
31. Learn to drink coffee
32. Learn to play the piano well
33. Have obedient, un-spoilt children
34. Keep my bedroom clean (good thing my roommates aren't reading this)
35. Sponsor a child
36. Grow a garden successfully
37. Write a story I like and finish it ("story" needs to be clarified)
38. Go skiing
39. Give my children lots of opportunities and support their dreams (gag, gag)
40. Own a beanbag chair (check! Ha -- I just threw it away on Tuesday)
41. Play more tennis
42. Not snitch chocolate chips (what a waste of space)
43. Not live in a nursing home
44. Use a pair of crutches
45. Make a pot of chocolate frosting and eat it with a spoon
46. Never go on a cruise
47. Be more decisive at Molly's (She and I would always defer to each other's wishes)
48. Always keep in touch with friends
49. Go on the Corkscrew (Valleyfair rollercoaster) (check)
50. Keep Doggie Bear and give him to my oldest child
51. Have a big trampoline
52. Meet someone who writes fortunes for fortune cookies
53. Never make my children eat beets
54. Never taste a brussels sprout
55. Find out how they get the Ms on M&Ms
56. Witness more
57. Stay in shape
58. Send Lucy around the world and collect culture letters (don't even ask)
59. Build an igloo
60. Collect friendship bracelets from different countries (lol)
61. Spend times at the Minnesota Historical Society archives (I don't remember doing it but I have it checked off)
62. Sing a solo
63. Go hiking in the Appalachians
64. Be a foster parent
65. Find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop
66. Smile more
67. Watch "Schindler's List" (check)
68. Use chopsticks correctly (semi-check)
69. Have a porch swing at my home!
70. Have grandchildren who call me Nana (maybe not)
71. Learn ballroom dancing (One of the Willems tried to teach me to waltz ... I didn't really catch on.)
72. Build a house of cards, 4+ stories
73. Memorize verses
74. Never have very short hair
75. Not send my kids to daycare
76. Remember how to perform CPR
77. Not procrastinate so much (ha...ha...ha ha)
78. Go to college (check check!)
79. Buy people flowers (check)
80. Not take drugs/smoke/drink at all (the last might need some amending)
81. Be in the Light (score for DC Talk)
82. See a live dolphin (I think I already had when I wrote this)
83. Not own a firearm
84. Not leave others out
85. Not feel sorry for myself (oops)
86. Go to Disneyworld (check)
87. Go to the Boundary Waters
88. Get a 4.0 for at least a quarter (check)
89. Fly a kite successfully
90. Go in a hot air balloon
91. Build a snowman every winter (not always working)
92. Be more organized
93. Not climb a mountain (what kind of goal is that?)
94. Never hit an animal with my car (strike)
95. Never live in a place with overgrown grass if I can help it (what?)
96. Keep track of calculators (those pesky pricy graphing ones... but I did it!)
97. Don't put people down
98. Not be crabby
99. Get into Advanced English for at least part of a year (checks from then on after that one semester)
100. Never get over busy if I can help it (ha)
This evening I dug up my list. For your enjoyment, this is what I wanted from life at age ... 14? However old you are in the spring of 8th Grade. Perhaps in future posts I will add some! Or delete.
1. Speak French fluently
2. Live in England for about a year
3. Speak at least four languages fluently (May 2000 amendment specifies English, French, Italian and German)
4. Play a game of Bridge and win
5. Read the entire Bible many times, once every two years (so far isn't working out )
6. Be a servant of others
7. Visit Prince Edward Island
8. Visit France
9. Visit Russia
10. Visit Australia
11. Get married
12. Run five miles without stopping
13. Play a high school sport (oops, missed that one )
14. Play in a big, famous orchestera/symphony (does Sioux City Municipal Band count? :) )
15. Make All-State Band (decided not to audition. Maybe earning a music scholarship is close enough)
16. Be Valedictorian (my high school doesn't have valedictorians... and wouldn't have made it anyway)
17. Keep in touch with Liz (college student friend of our family at the time) for her or my entire life (don't know where she even lives)
18. Be a Junior Posse (tour guide) at Northfield Historical Society (done June '98)
19. Be the Junior Curator coordinator my sophomore summer (summer assistant to the museum director) (done June '99)
20. To have two dogs named Monsieur Bob and Pete
21. See an Agatha Christie play in London
22. Not hate anyone
23. Have a lead role in a big play
24. Not be self-centered (hm, scratch that one)
25. Learn more about World War II
26. Read "Les Miserables" in French and English
27. Spend more time with my dad (check)
28. Encourage others
29. Be a counselor at Big Sandy Camp (take that off the list)
30. Practice my clarinet more
31. Learn to drink coffee
32. Learn to play the piano well
33. Have obedient, un-spoilt children
34. Keep my bedroom clean (good thing my roommates aren't reading this)
35. Sponsor a child
36. Grow a garden successfully
37. Write a story I like and finish it ("story" needs to be clarified)
38. Go skiing
39. Give my children lots of opportunities and support their dreams (gag, gag)
40. Own a beanbag chair (check! Ha -- I just threw it away on Tuesday)
41. Play more tennis
42. Not snitch chocolate chips (what a waste of space)
43. Not live in a nursing home
44. Use a pair of crutches
45. Make a pot of chocolate frosting and eat it with a spoon
46. Never go on a cruise
47. Be more decisive at Molly's (She and I would always defer to each other's wishes)
48. Always keep in touch with friends
49. Go on the Corkscrew (Valleyfair rollercoaster) (check)
50. Keep Doggie Bear and give him to my oldest child
51. Have a big trampoline
52. Meet someone who writes fortunes for fortune cookies
53. Never make my children eat beets
54. Never taste a brussels sprout
55. Find out how they get the Ms on M&Ms
56. Witness more
57. Stay in shape
58. Send Lucy around the world and collect culture letters (don't even ask)
59. Build an igloo
60. Collect friendship bracelets from different countries (lol)
61. Spend times at the Minnesota Historical Society archives (I don't remember doing it but I have it checked off)
62. Sing a solo
63. Go hiking in the Appalachians
64. Be a foster parent
65. Find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop
66. Smile more
67. Watch "Schindler's List" (check)
68. Use chopsticks correctly (semi-check)
69. Have a porch swing at my home!
70. Have grandchildren who call me Nana (maybe not)
71. Learn ballroom dancing (One of the Willems tried to teach me to waltz ... I didn't really catch on.)
72. Build a house of cards, 4+ stories
73. Memorize verses
74. Never have very short hair
75. Not send my kids to daycare
76. Remember how to perform CPR
77. Not procrastinate so much (ha...ha...ha ha)
78. Go to college (check check!)
79. Buy people flowers (check)
80. Not take drugs/smoke/drink at all (the last might need some amending)
81. Be in the Light (score for DC Talk)
82. See a live dolphin (I think I already had when I wrote this)
83. Not own a firearm
84. Not leave others out
85. Not feel sorry for myself (oops)
86. Go to Disneyworld (check)
87. Go to the Boundary Waters
88. Get a 4.0 for at least a quarter (check)
89. Fly a kite successfully
90. Go in a hot air balloon
91. Build a snowman every winter (not always working)
92. Be more organized
93. Not climb a mountain (what kind of goal is that?)
94. Never hit an animal with my car (strike)
95. Never live in a place with overgrown grass if I can help it (what?)
96. Keep track of calculators (those pesky pricy graphing ones... but I did it!)
97. Don't put people down
98. Not be crabby
99. Get into Advanced English for at least part of a year (checks from then on after that one semester)
100. Never get over busy if I can help it (ha)
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Embarking now upon my 18th move, I've learned a few things:
• Whenever possible, sort through all of your belongings prior to packing. Throw away or donate as many of the items you forgot you owned as possible.
• Throw away as much garbage as you can in advance. Having bags of garbage leftover when you're ready to vacate is no fun.
• Books are heavy. However, it's better to have a few really heavy boxes than to have all of them sort of heavy.
• Make optimum use of furniture on wheels. Wheels = a cart and heavy things + carts = success. (Therefore, does success - heavy things = wheels?)
• Creativity is the key to a stress-free move. Many everyday household items are containers: pillowcases, grocery sacs, bookbags, large bowls, suitcases.
• Given time, patience, and creativity, it is possible to succeed in a do-it-yourself move.
• The key to avoiding pre, during, and post-move breaks is to not own breakable things.
• Some fragile things (like dishes) are inevitable, and wrapping items in paper is time-consuming, paper-consuming and annoying overall. Solution: wrap nothing. Put all breakables in the same box and guard that one box with your life.
• Though packing goes more quickly when you throw things in the nearest box, you'll be glad come the first night after the move if you can find your toothbrush and a towel.
• Frequent movers are familar with the rubbermaid containter vs. box dilemma. Boxes can be hard to come by, tubs are more durable, but boxes collapse better. Tip: don't buy Rubbermaid. Their lids never fit securely. Sterilite is a fine (and often cheaper) solution. A blend of tubs and boxes usually works well.
• Don't pack too early or you'll just end up packing twice.
• Don't pack too late or you'll regret it.
• Speak to my roommate as little as possible while she's packing, and you'll still be alive to move. :)
• Throw away as much garbage as you can in advance. Having bags of garbage leftover when you're ready to vacate is no fun.
• Books are heavy. However, it's better to have a few really heavy boxes than to have all of them sort of heavy.
• Make optimum use of furniture on wheels. Wheels = a cart and heavy things + carts = success. (Therefore, does success - heavy things = wheels?)
• Creativity is the key to a stress-free move. Many everyday household items are containers: pillowcases, grocery sacs, bookbags, large bowls, suitcases.
• Given time, patience, and creativity, it is possible to succeed in a do-it-yourself move.
• The key to avoiding pre, during, and post-move breaks is to not own breakable things.
• Some fragile things (like dishes) are inevitable, and wrapping items in paper is time-consuming, paper-consuming and annoying overall. Solution: wrap nothing. Put all breakables in the same box and guard that one box with your life.
• Though packing goes more quickly when you throw things in the nearest box, you'll be glad come the first night after the move if you can find your toothbrush and a towel.
• Frequent movers are familar with the rubbermaid containter vs. box dilemma. Boxes can be hard to come by, tubs are more durable, but boxes collapse better. Tip: don't buy Rubbermaid. Their lids never fit securely. Sterilite is a fine (and often cheaper) solution. A blend of tubs and boxes usually works well.
• Don't pack too early or you'll just end up packing twice.
• Don't pack too late or you'll regret it.
• Speak to my roommate as little as possible while she's packing, and you'll still be alive to move. :)
Monday, February 13, 2006
decisions, decisions
Hi, friends. My stomach is full of butterflies today -- it's time to make a decision. Decisions are the worst, especially when reason and wishes are pitted against each other. On the one hand is everything I want. On the other are a couple of things that make sense. Things that make sense are on the first hand, too, but the two things that make sense on the second hand might outweigh all of the other things. Or they might not! It's a opportunity to take a total gamble on what's best when I only get a glimpse of what's behind each door... Hm. Say a prayer for me if you think of it.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
the gospel according to Elwyn Brooks White
The book lists for at least half of my writing classes included "The Elements of Style" by Strunk and White under the "optional" category. When you're shelling out half of the money left to your name for a gen ed textbook, "optional" falls into the "luxury" category.
Then one semester, a professor I admired said she re-read "The Elements" every single year, since it was a quick read. And the next time it came up on a list, I forked over the extra $8.
That's not to say I ever got around to reading it.
It is on my permanent list of things I intend to get around to, such as passing page 200 of "The Brothers Karamozov," returning that overdue book, paying that bill, washing the dishes. I know I'll like it -- it's about punctuation and rules and concisenessity and composition in general.
So I restarted it again this evening. The "White" in Strunk and White is E.B. White. I can't help but imagine Charlotte spinning commands on relative clauses into her web.
White reworked a style handbook privately published by his college English professor, Will Strunk.
Hear, hear. I have a sudden urge to hold a red pen and a college writing paper.
"He disliked the word 'forceful' and advised us to use 'forcible' instead. He felt that the word 'clever' was greatly overused: 'It is best restricted to ingenuity displayed in small matters.' He despised the expression 'student body,' which he termed gruesome, and made a special trip downtown to the 'Alumni News' office one day to protest the expression and suggest that 'studentry' be substituted -- a coinage of his own, which he felt was similar to 'citizenry.'"
I admit, though, that part of what trips me up is the vocabulary. I don't know grammatical terms! Excepting my final semester of college, I never had formal education in grammar. Already, I've no clue what an antecedent is, and I'm making educated guesses on relative clauses. The nightmare of the conjunction (or was it the adverb?)is coming back to me -- there was at least one term I just never could understand. I was taught it incorrectly.
Anyhow, in the next couple of days I shall write you about the spelling bee protest I once observed.
Then one semester, a professor I admired said she re-read "The Elements" every single year, since it was a quick read. And the next time it came up on a list, I forked over the extra $8.
That's not to say I ever got around to reading it.
It is on my permanent list of things I intend to get around to, such as passing page 200 of "The Brothers Karamozov," returning that overdue book, paying that bill, washing the dishes. I know I'll like it -- it's about punctuation and rules and concisenessity and composition in general.
So I restarted it again this evening. The "White" in Strunk and White is E.B. White. I can't help but imagine Charlotte spinning commands on relative clauses into her web.
White reworked a style handbook privately published by his college English professor, Will Strunk.
"Will felt that the reader was in serious trouble most of the time, floundering in a swamp, and that it was the duty of anyone attempting to write English to drain this swamp quickly and get the reader up on dry ground, or at least to throw a rope."
Hear, hear. I have a sudden urge to hold a red pen and a college writing paper.
"He disliked the word 'forceful' and advised us to use 'forcible' instead. He felt that the word 'clever' was greatly overused: 'It is best restricted to ingenuity displayed in small matters.' He despised the expression 'student body,' which he termed gruesome, and made a special trip downtown to the 'Alumni News' office one day to protest the expression and suggest that 'studentry' be substituted -- a coinage of his own, which he felt was similar to 'citizenry.'"
I admit, though, that part of what trips me up is the vocabulary. I don't know grammatical terms! Excepting my final semester of college, I never had formal education in grammar. Already, I've no clue what an antecedent is, and I'm making educated guesses on relative clauses. The nightmare of the conjunction (or was it the adverb?)is coming back to me -- there was at least one term I just never could understand. I was taught it incorrectly.
Anyhow, in the next couple of days I shall write you about the spelling bee protest I once observed.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
arrr, mateys, for a thousand tongues to sing
Sarah posted a link the other day – this is from the article:
“Avast ye, mateys! Hear the word from our Cap'n: No fear have ye of storms and scallywags, says ye? Argh! But I be seein' your true hearts. For I see below quarterdecks, says I. Ye be tremblin' in the face of scurvy dogs. But pay them no heed. For I be preparin' to pour down plenty o' booty upon ye. So be of cheer, me hearties! Ye be loved of the Cap'n."
I copied it down and saved it. It’s fun – like The Message for Pirates – but the words also struck me. God speaking ordinarily with the ordinary. Even aside from that, they appealed to me.
There are a thousand ways to say what this pirate speaks. A thousand tongues for a thousand different people.
So many words are out there. I'm sitting here journaling for pages and pages and find myself even more frustrated than before I began. But just one metaphor can serve as “les mots justes” – the right words. Saves paper. Poetry is better for the environment.
What are some of your favorite words? Crock pot seems to be a hit. What words do you love to hear? What words do you hate to hear? I hate the phrase “I see.” Some people hate “Uranus” or even the word “hollow.”
A genuine “I missed you” is among of the best phrases to hear when you run into a good friend. Being addressed by a long-held nickname is way up there, too. “Riboflavin” always makes me giggle. You have your inside-joke words and phrases. “It’s raining!”
No, this isn’t actually going anywhere. I just like words. I never seem to have the right ones, though. It seems my life is a quest to find exactly the word-combination to describe… something. I don’t know what. I’ll tell you when I find it.
“Avast ye, mateys! Hear the word from our Cap'n: No fear have ye of storms and scallywags, says ye? Argh! But I be seein' your true hearts. For I see below quarterdecks, says I. Ye be tremblin' in the face of scurvy dogs. But pay them no heed. For I be preparin' to pour down plenty o' booty upon ye. So be of cheer, me hearties! Ye be loved of the Cap'n."
I copied it down and saved it. It’s fun – like The Message for Pirates – but the words also struck me. God speaking ordinarily with the ordinary. Even aside from that, they appealed to me.
There are a thousand ways to say what this pirate speaks. A thousand tongues for a thousand different people.
So many words are out there. I'm sitting here journaling for pages and pages and find myself even more frustrated than before I began. But just one metaphor can serve as “les mots justes” – the right words. Saves paper. Poetry is better for the environment.
What are some of your favorite words? Crock pot seems to be a hit. What words do you love to hear? What words do you hate to hear? I hate the phrase “I see.” Some people hate “Uranus” or even the word “hollow.”
A genuine “I missed you” is among of the best phrases to hear when you run into a good friend. Being addressed by a long-held nickname is way up there, too. “Riboflavin” always makes me giggle. You have your inside-joke words and phrases. “It’s raining!”
No, this isn’t actually going anywhere. I just like words. I never seem to have the right ones, though. It seems my life is a quest to find exactly the word-combination to describe… something. I don’t know what. I’ll tell you when I find it.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Paul Dorr! Paul Dorr!
Yes, it's true! Paul Dorr is in the news!
Since the Journal axes their online copy the day after it's published, I'll post the first couple of paragraphs here. If you'd like the rest of the article, I can send it to you.
Paul Dorr promises 'hard work and research' to those looking to defeat school bonds
Paul Dorr, rotund and middle-aged, stands before more than 150 people gathered recently to hear the case for voting "no" on an upcoming Ponca Community School District bond referendum. His square, intelligent face is framed by a shock of thick brown hair and an equally unruly beard.
Dorr is the hired gun for ABCs, the Vote No folks in this referendum. As campaign manager, his victory is the referendum's defeat. It's what he does.Dorr, the father of 11 home-schooled children, (three are out of the nest now) makes what he describes as a "meager" living as a campaign consultant to the Vote No groups who oppose public school bond referendums in Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri and Nebraska. In Ponca, he had already been paid $4,000 by Jan. 5 and will walk away with more of the $9,000 raised via private donations of less than $250 each. He's managed 39 such campaigns since 2002, winning most of them.
Since the Journal axes their online copy the day after it's published, I'll post the first couple of paragraphs here. If you'd like the rest of the article, I can send it to you.
Paul Dorr promises 'hard work and research' to those looking to defeat school bonds
Paul Dorr, rotund and middle-aged, stands before more than 150 people gathered recently to hear the case for voting "no" on an upcoming Ponca Community School District bond referendum. His square, intelligent face is framed by a shock of thick brown hair and an equally unruly beard.
Dorr is the hired gun for ABCs, the Vote No folks in this referendum. As campaign manager, his victory is the referendum's defeat. It's what he does.Dorr, the father of 11 home-schooled children, (three are out of the nest now) makes what he describes as a "meager" living as a campaign consultant to the Vote No groups who oppose public school bond referendums in Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri and Nebraska. In Ponca, he had already been paid $4,000 by Jan. 5 and will walk away with more of the $9,000 raised via private donations of less than $250 each. He's managed 39 such campaigns since 2002, winning most of them.
Over at my other blog, I will begin publishing my weekly column, "Ever Wondered?" each Tuesday/Wednesday.
Monday, February 06, 2006
- Here, I planned to provide a mini-lesson on finding the bias in your news source. The example was to be an article on the president's proposed budget from The Washington Post. However, the article has already been replaced. The author's political leanings could be seen in their word choice, such as "Bush's demands" for the budget, rather than requests or something more neutral.
- About the Danish cartoon: Many of the comments I've heard have completely ignored the huge cultural gap between the West and the Mideast. It's likely many Mideasterners have no concept of the freedom of speech (and the tolerance/ignorance for people with ideas that repulse you that go with it), just as Westerners can't imagine life without it. Specifically, we should keep in mind that many Mideast countries do not have free press -- what the press is saying is more or less the official government line. It's possible that their view of the situation looks a lot more like the Danish government mocking Allah than it does when we try to explain it. I haven't seen the cartoon, but I'm wondering if the papers that ran it were bordering on a type of hate crime in the first place.
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez is an author unlike any other in my reading experience. An example: He (the general, Simon Bolivar) always considered death an unavoidable professional hazard. He had fought all his wars in the front lines, without suffering a scratch, and he had moved through enemy fire with such thoughtless serenity that even his officers accepted the easy explanation that he believed himself invulnerable. He had emerged unharmed from every assassination plot against him, and on several occasions his life had been saved because he was not sleeping in his own bed. He did not use an escort, and he ate and drank with no concern for what was offered him, or where. Only Manuela knew that his disinterest was not lack of awareness or fatalism, but rather the melancholy certainty that he would die in his bed, poor and naked and without the consolation of public gratitude. I love his characters. They are absolutely unpredictable.
the life you save could be your own
An EMT saved a woman's life recently. Ten years ago, the woman gave that same EMT the Heimlich Maneuver when he was choking.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
opportunity costs, etc.
Progressive Farmer magazine released its top 200 counties in Rural America today. This is my top-third of the front page on the matter, with which I am quite pleased -- at least for my skill set. You can't see it sowell, but you get the general idea. (And to go with the quiz theme, you can take a find-my-spot kind of rural quiz at progressivefarmer.com.)
- My journalism prof has a syndicated weekly column. This week he wrote about how there is a tendency among secular journalists to be completely ignorant of religion. "Another time, an "eager young thing" from the same national newspaper called todiscuss a political scandal. Sadly, Neuhaus said,corruption has 'been around ever since thatunfortunate afternoon in the garden.' There was a long pause and she asked: 'What garden was that?'"
- Yesterday, a study came out about the increasing number of women who have to decide whether to go off their anti-depressants during pregnancy. (Any medication could pose a threat to the baby, and earlier studies have shown anti-depressants taken during pregnancy lead to a higher risk of birth defects.) It sounds pretty clear when you hear there's a risk of birth defects that you go off the medication. But the study showed that women who go off their medications also put their babies in jeopardy, as they are unable to get enough sleep, less likely to eat well, and less able to mentally prepare for having a child. The risk for post-partum depression also skyrockets. While this situation is not a pressing one for me personally, it's one that will be faced by, if not me, those near and dear to me in the next decade or so. There are risks on both sides...which is greater?
- A study came out in South Dakota this week about the impacts of raising the state minimum wage. The wage hasn't risen since 1997, but inflation has, meaning workers earning the legal $5.15 an hour are making $4.22 in 1997 purchasing power. I make somewhere between twice either of those, but I feel it's a real challenge to make ends meet. I'm frugal, too. The study, anyhow, said that raising the wage would mean unemployment would rise. So some workers would see a better standard of living and others would see much worse. This is a tough call. My gut reaction is to at least give some workers enough to really get by, and they'll stop relying on forms of welfare. (Because, frankly, there's no way you can make less than I do now and not need government assistance.) On the other hand, is it better for more to have a job of some sort? It has to be raised, though. $5.15 wasn't adequate to begin with. $4.22 is far worse -- unliveable.
- One more bit of politics: The House has approved a $11.9 billion cut in student aid. It sounds like the Senate has also approved it.
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