tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26601592130286277912024-03-13T21:32:34.042+09:00I Japan GoTales from Turtle Hill. A blog about Japan, the JET Program, and being a foreigner. And my jewelry. And other things.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.comBlogger174125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-24391719863832328072023-01-06T18:59:00.001+09:002023-01-06T18:59:48.439+09:00Salutations, how are you blog?<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span lang=EN-US style='font-size:11.2pt;font-family:Verdana'>Blog <a href="https://bit.ly/3W2hMmt">https://www.google.com/search?q=laureljr.ijapango@blogger.com</a> <o:p></o:p></span></p></div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-40810168414411817772022-12-01T04:12:00.001+09:002022-12-01T04:12:18.855+09:00Hi, blogSalutat
<br>Date: Wed, 30 Nov 2022 22:12:14 +0300
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<br>LaurelRyan
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<br>------=_NextPart_000_0097_IUXGC0FR.WUZWAVUT--Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-52862906385825803012022-09-25T17:55:00.000+09:002022-09-25T17:54:48.618+09:00Salutations, blog<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'>Blog<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><a href="https://bit.ly/3dFrkn3">https://www.google.com/search?q=laureljr.ijapango@blogger.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.4pt;font-family:Arial'>Laurel Ryan<o:p></o:p></span></p></div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-66563007366190510532018-01-10T16:34:00.000+09:002018-01-10T16:33:25.623+09:00Good afternoon Blog
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<br>Best
<br>Laurel RyanLaurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-2302281401939303422013-03-05T07:56:00.001+09:002013-03-05T07:56:47.307+09:00Laurel Ryan<div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:bookman old style, new york, times, serif;font-size:14pt"><div><span style="font-family: verdana,helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://hoodzandswag.net/xvfwv/ykduztmmx">http://hoodzandswag.net/xvfwv/ykduztmmx</a></span></div><div><br></div><div><span class="tab"> Laurel Ryan</span></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 18.6667px; font-family: bookman old style,new york,times,serif; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;"><span class="tab"></span><br><span style="font-family: verdana,helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div></div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-37133046003079108152011-08-14T23:03:00.000+09:002011-08-14T23:03:25.809+09:00I Moved!It has come time for my blogging efforts to move. I mentioned in my last post that I would be moving to a new website—any hopeful self-employer needs a site in this age of the almighty Internet. I've imported this blog and my blog from France (the one that started it all) to their own subdomains for easy access. I'm really excited about the handy little features I can use and am still playing around with the bells and whistles, but the important stuff is all there.<br />
<br />
The main site, <a href="http://petunkalunka.com/">petunkalunka.com</a>, will mostly deal with my jewelry and creative projects. All my future posts about my life in Kameoka will be on <a href="http://ijapango.petunkalunka.com/">ijapango.petunkalunka.com</a>, so remember to redirect your links and RSS feeds to<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;"><a class="popup" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/IJapanGo" style="color: #015fab; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">http://feeds.feedburner.com/IJapanGo</a>!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Please stop by and let me know what you'd like to see (I'm going to put up another morning dance video, eventually. Promise). Or just let me know how I'm doing.*</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anywhatsterwho, I need to clean for my houseguest tomorrow, so I'm off to get that finished before bed. Catch you all on the flip side, by which I mean at my new site.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">*At running a website, not at life in general. I think I'm okay at life</span></span>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09134166446826869999noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-17831726721887128092011-08-10T00:24:00.000+09:002011-08-10T00:24:38.111+09:00This Is Now RelevantI wrote<a href="http://ijapango.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-web-site.html"> this post</a> when I was but an ignorant youth. Now it's real. This blog will have a new home at <a href="http://ijapango.petunkalunka.com/">ijapango.petunkalunka.com</a>. It's still a work in process, but the great part about the transition is that I can publish from behind firewalls. You know what that means: No Work FOREVER!!! I kid, I kid. I'll work when someone is looking.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-85974531764043326452011-08-01T18:26:00.000+09:002011-08-01T18:26:47.738+09:00Makes a Girl Feel GoodI was featured in an <a href="http://www.etsy.com/treasury/MTQyMTkzMTB8NDk5Mzg3MDUz/natural">Etsy Treasury called "Natural"</a> by DanuJewelry. It doesn't mean I've sold anything (or that I ever will), but it's still really, really nice.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-37223037214065872432011-07-20T11:06:00.001+09:002011-07-20T11:06:01.215+09:00Secret ProjectI'm working on something new. I shan't say what, but it sounds like a ukulele, smells like Vietnamese food, and feels like glass.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-76504144203154971422011-07-11T16:44:00.003+09:002011-07-12T11:58:10.469+09:00Clawing My Way Back Up…from that horrible test. You know that stress dream (that I've actually never had) about waking up one morning and having a huge final exam for a class that you never attended? Taking the JLPT N3 was like that, but without the dreaming and knowing that I <i>should</i> remember the crap on it because I'd just spent two months studying for it. Since that day I've been recovering, but culture fatigue and a hectic social agenda make it slow. Here's a quick update on the good parts of the last eight days in no particular order.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Lots of time with people I enjoy</li>
<li>Calling my family when I feel like it, just to play them the part of the Hallelujah Chorus that I figured out on the ukulele</li>
<li>Chatting with Hannah</li>
<li>Kim-Chi fed me soup.</li>
<li>Home party with Nanami, Teresa and Dara</li>
<li>Hanging out with Dara and Michie.</li>
</ul><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The rest is in picture and video form.</div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjVPdyld1-I/ThqBN8goONI/AAAAAAAAAB8/mg0gh9wiAnw/s1600/IMG_0105.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627952760934119634" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjVPdyld1-I/ThqBN8goONI/AAAAAAAAAB8/mg0gh9wiAnw/s400/IMG_0105.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mini watermelon plant in my container garden is bearing a fruit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This isn't me, but my brother is pretty dang good at the piano, <i>na</i>?<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="273" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JZr6ZU_97WI" width="325"></iframe> Check out his site at <a href="http://barroncp.com/">http://barroncp.com/</a><br />
<table 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;"><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y3_x3pZL9vg/ThqBOXzkT3I/AAAAAAAAACE/BkQl1tJeCEs/s1600/IMG_0110.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627952768261312370" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y3_x3pZL9vg/ThqBOXzkT3I/AAAAAAAAACE/BkQl1tJeCEs/s400/IMG_0110.JPG" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made up a new salad that is perfect for summer. There's crab in it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<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;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627952772491760130" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9uecAKGlY4/ThqBOnkL0gI/AAAAAAAAACM/dAEFmLHnerc/s400/IMG_0137.JPG" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-n1QYyPp60/ThqBOuVn8QI/AAAAAAAAACU/NMgydiLj_xM/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">I made a lightbox from a cardboard box and leftover craft paper. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It isn't perfect, and neither are my photography skills (especially since dropping my camera in a koi pond), but allows me to get the job done. It's for helping my to take pictures of jewelry for my Etsy shop.</div><div><br />
<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;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627952774309736706" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-n1QYyPp60/ThqBOuVn8QI/AAAAAAAAACU/NMgydiLj_xM/s400/IMG_0150.JPG" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/77543286/highly-tribal-wood-and-silver-necklace">Like this necklace</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tngZI9kufwE/ThqD2mO2SZI/AAAAAAAAACY/nN74_E5qQ8M/s1600/IMG_0156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tngZI9kufwE/ThqD2mO2SZI/AAAAAAAAACY/nN74_E5qQ8M/s320/IMG_0156.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/77558065/safari-socialite-brown-and-cream-bead?ref=pr_shop">And this necklace</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<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;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1970048262"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hgvjU5Zitzg/ThqhXIwSB7I/AAAAAAAAACc/qjuI1ybvam8/s320/IMG_0188.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/77625417/cheery-ohs-beaded-wood-earrings">And these earrings</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Plus there has been a lot of this:</div><div><br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bn3zNA8KcIw/Thqk4F0-rzI/AAAAAAAAACg/umaA_1zkAzw/s1600/IMG_0247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bn3zNA8KcIw/Thqk4F0-rzI/AAAAAAAAACg/umaA_1zkAzw/s320/IMG_0247.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't see it, but I'm not wearing any pants.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div>Moral: God is dang good to me.</div></div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09134166446826869999noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-64479204376707522842011-06-09T08:09:00.001+09:002011-06-09T08:09:11.647+09:00DANG YOU, JLPT N3Everything is on hold until the evening of July 3rd. Everything. Except for work, which means I really should get a move on.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-78719627369377414292011-05-20T19:42:00.001+09:002011-05-20T19:43:12.899+09:00On The MenuThis weekend is for:<br />
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<ul><li>Spring Cleaning (yeah, I'm just now getting started, and I took a week off already)</li>
<li>Working on the <a href="http://www.ganbattetimes.com/">Ganbatte Times</a>, because there's still an article about taxes on our homepage</li>
<li>Gardening. The only plant I've kept alive for the last two and a half years has finally blossomed, which makes me think that maybe my thumb is greener than I first thought.</li>
<li>Adding titles and captions to my photos in iPhoto (which will help me get that big Vietnam post together. No falling down on the job like with posting about Trinidad)</li>
<li>Studying. The JLPT is on July 3rd, and despite plans and lists and good intentions, I've only cracked the books open once. Yipes.</li>
</ul><div>My internet is currently down, because sometimes my modem just decides it doesn't want to work for a month or so. Instead of scrambling to get it fixed, I figure that this is a way for God to tell me to quit spending so much time watching action movies and clips of Whose Line Is It Anyway online. I'm going to use this minimal-web-access interim to knock things off of my To Do list and enjoy being in my apartment again. See ya, kids.</div><div><br />
</div><div>P.S. Below are some photos. Enjoy.</div><div><br />
</div><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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kZr2V6Jft1o/TdZDnV4wAoI/AAAAAAAAA7U/mttw5fIvkr8/s1600/IMG_5056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kZr2V6Jft1o/TdZDnV4wAoI/AAAAAAAAA7U/mttw5fIvkr8/s320/IMG_5056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the best Bananagrams sessions I've had, despite losing to Sarah RT</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p3-9vzWz5CU/TdZDz-cy4GI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/tfRzySsRdJo/s1600/IMG_5057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-p3-9vzWz5CU/TdZDz-cy4GI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/tfRzySsRdJo/s320/IMG_5057.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My only photo of cherry blossoms from April</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-44952300341074031672011-05-15T17:14:00.001+09:002011-05-15T17:14:39.852+09:00Taiwan! Part 2<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721551206/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Pandas2" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2491/5721551206_20381707b7_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pandas2" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721550428/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Pearl Milk Tea on the HSR" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2262/5721550428_5e74ac56e2_s.jpg" alt="Pearl Milk Tea on the HSR" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720991873/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="View from the HSR" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2112/5720991873_028d906b93_s.jpg" alt="View from the HSR" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720992201/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Pandas1" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2484/5720992201_c2d9d5c668_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pandas1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720992775/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Pandas 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2142/5720992775_a989f65ac2_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pandas 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721551790/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Pandas 4" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3143/5721551790_184603f082_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pandas 4" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552120/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Panda and Me" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3231/5721552120_e8f2a9273c_s.jpg" alt="Panda and Me" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552422/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Panda and Kim" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2478/5721552422_7c4cb722e6_s.jpg" alt="Panda and Kim" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552756/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Bear Sculpture" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2505/5721552756_23a68c6a5f_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Bear Sculpture" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721553058/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Koala" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3403/5721553058_8000e3bcb2_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Koala" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721553660/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Turtle Statue" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2440/5721553660_c8938f8390_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Turtle Statue" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720995061/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 1" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2255/5720995061_941d2d360f_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554234/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 2" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/5721554234_24f0330105_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 2" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554542/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2428/5721554542_7dd83dd364_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554850/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Pygmy Hippo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2259/5721554850_bda7d22b02_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pygmy Hippo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721555130/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Taipei Zoo Injured Hippo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3260/5721555130_e3171c8d5d_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Injured Hippo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720996623/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Floor 11 lobby" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3346/5720996623_03900bccd4_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Floor 11 lobby" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720996921/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 1" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3546/5720996921_4e815759d0_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720997657/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2789/5720997657_5f3e86fb8f_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721556686/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 4" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2380/5721556686_ac83edeb69_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 4" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720998257/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 5" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2377/5720998257_cf90144c0d_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 5" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720998635/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 6" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3539/5720998635_dcc61ef306_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 6" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721557568/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 7" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/5721557568_5df9c40d36_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 7" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720999209/in/set-72157626598645525/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 8" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2604/5720999209_fd8ebbc6a3_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 8" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/sets/72157626598645525/">Taiwan! Part 2</a>, a set on Flickr.</p></div><p>Still working on that Vietnam post. Also, sorry, Facebook readers, because all of these photos are on my Flickr account.</p>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-48077969575021058402011-05-15T17:13:00.001+09:002011-05-15T17:13:41.804+09:00Taiwan Part 1<div style="padding: 0; overflow: hidden; margin: 0; width: 500px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721003901/in/photostream/" title="View from hotel come morn 2" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3034/5721003901_954a572968_s.jpg" alt="View from hotel come morn 2" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721003581/in/photostream/" title="View from Hotel come morn" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2804/5721003581_5b936995bf_s.jpg" alt="View from Hotel come morn" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721002993/in/photostream/" title="Purse" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3528/5721002993_e5a46bf983_s.jpg" alt="Purse" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721560278/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Sign" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2019/5721560278_ed241331e9_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Sign" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721001253/in/photostream/" title="View From Hotel B 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2599/5721001253_c173119f1e_s.jpg" alt="View From Hotel B 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721558264/in/photostream/" title="View from Hotel B1" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3214/5721558264_d452ca7578_s.jpg" alt="View from Hotel B1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720999209/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 8" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2604/5720999209_fd8ebbc6a3_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 8" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721557568/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 7" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/5721557568_5df9c40d36_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 7" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720998635/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 6" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3539/5720998635_dcc61ef306_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 6" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720998257/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 5" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2377/5720998257_cf90144c0d_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 5" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721556686/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 4" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2380/5721556686_ac83edeb69_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 4" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720997657/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2789/5720997657_5f3e86fb8f_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720996921/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Fashion shoot 1" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3546/5720996921_4e815759d0_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Fashion shoot 1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720996623/in/photostream/" title="Hotel B Floor 11 lobby" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3346/5720996623_03900bccd4_s.jpg" alt="Hotel B Floor 11 lobby" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721555130/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Injured Hippo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3260/5721555130_e3171c8d5d_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Injured Hippo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554850/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Pygmy Hippo" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2259/5721554850_bda7d22b02_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Pygmy Hippo" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554542/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 3" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2428/5721554542_7dd83dd364_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 3" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721554234/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 2" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3056/5721554234_24f0330105_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 2" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5720995061/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 1" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2255/5720995061_941d2d360f_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Lemurs 1" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721553660/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Turtle Statue" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2440/5721553660_c8938f8390_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Turtle Statue" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721553058/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Koala" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3403/5721553058_8000e3bcb2_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Koala" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552756/in/photostream/" title="Taipei Zoo Bear Sculpture" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2505/5721552756_23a68c6a5f_s.jpg" alt="Taipei Zoo Bear Sculpture" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552422/in/photostream/" title="Panda and Kim" style="display: block; padding: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2478/5721552422_7c4cb722e6_s.jpg" alt="Panda and Kim" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/5721552120/in/photostream/" title="Panda and Me" style="display: block; padding: 0 0 10px 0; width: 75px; height: 75px; float: left;"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3231/5721552120_e8f2a9273c_s.jpg" alt="Panda and Me" style="border:none; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 75px; height: 75px;"/></a><br clear="all"/></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px"><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petunkalunka/">Petunkalunka's photostream</a> on Flickr.</p></div><p>I'm working on a big Vietnam post, so for now please enjoy the photographic evidence of my short vacation in Taiwan, right after my long vacation in America.</p>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-11364586245963321762011-04-29T22:38:00.000+09:002011-04-29T22:38:30.225+09:0015 Hr. Countdown to VietnamGuess where I'm going for Golden Week? Hint: Not to a place called "15 Hour Countdown To," but it is in the title. Last year for Golden Week I didn't do a dang thing. This year I'm taking Margaret Mann with me, we're going to Saigon (okay, Ho Chi Minh City), Hue, Hoi An, and hopping over to Cambodia to Angkor Wat. We leave tomorrow and we'll be gone until the 8th.<br />
<br />
Kim-Chi taught me how to say numbers 1-10 (which I kind of forgot) and how to say "excuse me/sorry" (which I remember) in Vietnamese. I bought one of those money belts to stick in my short—nothing more appealing than a foreigner pulling dong out of her underwear. I'm not being as gross as you think I am; the dong is the Vietnamese currency. I am prepared to roll up my pants. I am in the long process of doing laundry. All I have to do is pack and clean the newt tank. So why am I writing this?Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-72492512773785125282011-04-08T13:23:00.001+09:002011-04-08T13:23:24.120+09:00Return from the Blahs, or I Love Maple Bread Right Now<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">The cherry trees are in bloom, the weather is warm enough that I can no longer leave my milk on the counter overnight, and I finished my taxes. Welcome, Spring.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I'm posting this while at work, but when I get home tonight I'll add photos of random things that I've been doing lately. Uploading photos to Facebook is so tedious. All the tagging and the captioning just takes too long.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Yesterday, for the first time in a week, I had company at the office. Teresa left for Australia last week, the day before all the staff changes on April 1<sup>st</sup>. The honorably Kim-Chi has returned from her journey to the motherland, so now I have someone with whom to ack ack ack. We're going to prove to the rest of the new staff just how annoying I can be. Tee hee hee and har-de-har all the live long day. Also, I have had coffee but no breakfast. My hands tremble like nervous hamsters.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I am on a slow climb up from a serious case of the Blahs. The Blahs are those periods during which one has no motivation to do anything, and so withdraws from society and actively refuses to do anything that could be considered productive or good for oneself. I had a disabling period of blah during most of March. Dishes piled up, dirty laundry was strewn everywhere, I ate in my bed and spent my evenings watching crap on YouTube. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Recently, however, I have been doing at least one Very Productive Activity every other day. I did dishes. I did some laundry. I cleaned the newt and fish tanks. I responded to emails. Mind, once I take the time to sit down, usually when I'm too hungry to ignore my stomach anymore, all hope of productivity is lost. I tend to get fixated on things, be it entertainment or food or music, for a period of a month or so. My most recent fixations have resulted in the following: I eat maple bread toast for dinner at least four times per week, supplementing the carbohydrates with fresh mandarin oranges and carrots (or a head of locally grown lettuce, yesterday). I watch clip after clip of daytime dramas from Europe on YouTube while drinking rose wine [in moderation, Mom]. Then I go to bed. Suffice to say that my dreams are full of Dutch, Argentinean Spanish, and evil twins (which I do prefer over zombie apocalypse dreams).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">In order to fully recover from the Blahs, I need to set a goal that doesn't involve exercising every day or learning Japanese (because that would just be setting myself up for failure). Don't worry, I don't need any suggestions. There's a man at my church who was classically trained as a tenor, and once he learned that I can tickle the ivories a bit he challenged me to play something for him. I worked up Rachmaninoff's "Prelude in G Minor" and played it after Sunday service last summer. It wasn't great, and the man was almost brutally honest about it, but he respected that I at least tried. He was supposed to return in kind. I requested a song in French, because Lordy knows I don't understand Italian.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Dear Keith (the tenor in question) travels back and forth between the U.S. and Japan, so there hasn't been an opportunity for him to fulfill his promises of song until now. He's back in town and I put the pressure on. He waffled and tried to get out of it, but I offered to help by playing the accompaniment for Camille Saint-Saens' "Claire de Lune." In fact, I as good as swore that I would work it up in three weeks so that he could sing it on Easter Sunday. There it is, folks. I have a goal: Camille Saint-Saens' "Claire de Lune" for voice and piano. I have until the 24<sup>th</sup> to get it under my fingers.</span></p> Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-2641709126181219682011-04-01T15:25:00.001+09:002011-04-01T15:25:53.965+09:00A Week In Summary<div>This post is full of links.</div><div><br></div>I am the only municipal JET in Kamoka right now. The other two ALTs and the CIR are off visiting family or Australia, making good use of the down time between the end of the school/fiscal year and the new one coming in a couple of weeks. This leaves me a lot of time to do nothing, which I have done with a voraciousness and determination unmatched by all but the most diligent slackers.<div> <br></div><div>I have collected more Craigslist Missed Connections ads for further mockery. I have looked up doing my taxes. I have asked my <a href="http://www.ganbattetimes.com/" target="_blank">Ganbatte Times</a> coeditor to write an article on doing taxes, <a href="http://www.ganbattetimes.com/2011/04/one-of-lifes-certainties/" target="_blank">which he did</a>. I started to fill out all of the information on TurboTax, but then I got a little confused and gave up. I printed out information on my taxes. I learned that "snuck" is dialectal and <a href="http://www.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/snuck.html" target="_blank">"sneaked" is the correct past tense of "sneak."</a><div> <br></div><div>Fear not, parents and friends my parents' age. I have done some mildly productive things, as well. I did my dishes. I washed my sheets (after I let a neighborhood tomcat into my apartment and my sheets smelled like cat butt). Takemura-san and Miyake-san, my supervisors*, asked Teresa and me to help with some stamping and organizing of papers, which we did with glee. I did some research of purple prose for that <a href="http://ijapango.blogspot.com/2010/07/truth-about-future.html" target="_blank">book I'm writing</a> about vampire wizards and girl pirates.</div> <div><br></div><div>I was subsequently distracted by one of the <a href="http://www.crackerboxpalace.com/verypurple.jpg">worst, most purple of prose descriptions of a woman</a> I've ever read, plus one snarky <a href="http://maggock.deviantart.com/art/Bronwyn-the-Beautiful-115715837">artist's rendering</a> of that description. This is a link you want to follow, people. Sample quote: "'You are quite beautiful, Princess Bronwyn,' Spikenard sang, with his sardonic grin and eyes as violet and as hard as amethysts."</div> <div><br></div><div>I imagine that Spikenard has Grape Kool-Aid mouth and sardonic eyes.</div><div><br></div><div>Another quote: "Her buttocks were fresh-baked loaves; they were ivory eggs; they were the eggs of the lonely phoenix. They were a fist."</div> <div><br></div><div>That sounds like an playground insult. "You're a stupidhead egg butt, Jimmy Jones!" Don't feel sorry for Jimmy Jones. He has a fist for buttocks.</div><div><br></div><div>Then I started scouring the internet for reviews and examples of the worst romance novels to be found. This search brought me to the "Studies in Crap" column on pitch magazine, which featured the following: <a href="http://blogs.pitch.com/plog/2010/12/unicorn_vengenance_studies_in_crap.php">http://blogs.pitch.com/plog/2010/12/unicorn_vengenance_studies_in_crap.php</a></div> <div><br></div><div>In case you didn't read the title of the book, it's <i>Unicorn Vengeance.</i> Read that title aloud to yourself, slowly, letting it sink into your brain, and then click through to the article. I had to pretend that I was sneezing into my scarf at work so that I didn't look like I had free time on my hands.</div> <div><br></div><div>If you try to find other reviews of its kind elsewhere on the Internet, be forewarned that your time is wasted. The best I could find were the worst romance novel covers and the worst quotes from romance novels. It made me wish that someone else would make it his or her life's work to read the worst romance novels ever written and mock them. I'd do it, but I have my pride, you know. Any volunteers?</div> <div><br></div><div>All this writing has made me thirsty. I'm off to refill my water bottle and do some lunges in the bathroom to get the blood flowing back into my lonely phoenix eggs.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div> <div><br></div><div>*Today, April first, is the day when all the staff changes around, so Takemura, that big brotherly gem of a man, is no longer my co-supervisor. Now it's a lady named Kobayashi (Little Woods) who speaks English well. The end.<br> -- <br>Laurel Ryan<br> </div></div> Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-54552231258166422272011-03-27T01:48:00.000+09:002011-03-27T01:48:26.790+09:00Dear People Who Make Action Movies/TV Shows,I'm all for female empowerment, but you know what no woman can do? Outrun a man while wearing sexy high heels. Yes, the short skirt/jeggings free us for movement. Booty short and hot pants also cut down on wind resistance, so on some level I can understand why the sexy lady spies wear them everywhere. Were I a sexy spy, I'd probably have a closet full of booty shorts.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, running up or down stairs, around corners, over uneven pavement, or on recently waxed or polished floors while in three inch heels is essentially taking one's life in one's own hands. Then, subsequently taking that life and dangling it over the edge of a cliff. Running on such surfaces while being pursued is equivalent to throwing one's life over aforementioned cliff edge into the gaping maw of that hole monster from <i>Return of the Jedi</i>. There is no chance of survival.<br />
<br />
In order to prevent this gross misrepresentation of female spy protocol in my favorite movie genre, please tell the wardrobe department to find the ladies larger purses. This way, once they've taken down the target/blown up the building/have had a surprise run-in with the sexy male enemy spy, the female spy can change into her sensible running shoes, throw her Louboutins in her purse, and get a move on. Otherwise, quit giving your lady spies sexy heels with ankle straps. That's just endangerment. At least let them kick the heels off mid-flight.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
A Concerned Fan<br />
<br />
P.S. How are all of those secret government agencies always so well funded? Given the current global economic situation, I think we need to see some concern about budget cuts and layoffs.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-70431010113308948852011-02-27T23:17:00.005+09:002011-02-28T22:23:41.559+09:00Craigslist Filler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">Read this out loud in the exact manner it was written.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TTBa-KYI8HI/AAAAAAAAA4o/7ixIWJlzFyw/s1600/HUFFINES+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TTBa-KYI8HI/AAAAAAAAA4o/7ixIWJlzFyw/s640/HUFFINES+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You're welcome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By the way, anyone else glad that February only has 28 days, one extra at its most annoying? To all the wonderful people born during this month, I apologize for the expression, but not the emotion. February generally sucks.</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-56804558788289562652011-02-23T22:55:00.001+09:002011-02-23T23:03:21.114+09:00The Kobe Luminarie<div class="MsoNormal">This annual light-up commemorates the Great Hanshin earthquake that rocked the city in 1995. It’s a beautiful tribute to all the lives that were lost during the tragedy, though as it has grown it’s become more and more festive through the years. The name was taken from the Italian word for lights, and has become one of Kobe’s most popular events. According to <a href="http://japmemoirs.blogspot.com/2006/12/kobe-illuminarie.html">one foreigner’s blog</a>, there have been complaints that the funds put towards this commemorating would have been better spent aiding the victims and their families. I’ve found no information that confirms this claim, but I do know that it was first intended to be held in Tokyo rather than Kobe, and began just eleven months after the earthquake devastated the area and stole over six thousand lives.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’d heard about this light festival from Paulette, former Kameokan ALT extraordinaire. She had attended during her second or third year in Japan, and had returned with beautiful pictures and tales of buildings made of light. I’d read a review on Hiroshima’s <a href="http://www.wideislandview.com/">Wide Island View</a> that while the illumination was beautiful, the crowds were terrible. Since I was planning to stay in Japan during Christmas I wanted to mix some of my favorite parts of Christmas with Japan’s winter offerings. Not many people decorate their homes with Christmas lights, so I reckoned that the Kobe Luminarie could substitute for the pleasures of driving around Tulsa and seeing the colorful lights strung on houses and trees. Plus, I’ve never had a problem being in a crowd provided that I’m not in a hurry. All I needed was a travel buddy.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hello, Margaret.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Margaret and I had both expressed our desire to do more short trips to the surrounding areas; we’ve been afraid of settling in too much and thereby missing much of what Japan has to offer us during our short stay here. We’d wanted to go to Kobe, famous for its Chinatown and beef, but we’d both felt that we needed a better reason than food to make a day trip. The Kobe Luminarie, though it had become a little cheesy over the years, gave us something more to do than eat.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Travel from Kameoka to Kobe takes between two and three hours, depending on what train one takes. This was no quick hop into the city. I had a busy schedule, few free weekends, and Margaret had a tight schedule between her weekend work schedule, conferences, and leaving for the U.S. to spend Christmas with her family. We had only one weekend when we were both free, and Margaret’s boyfriend had expressed interest in joining us for the trip. We settled on Sunday, December 12<sup>th</sup>, the day before the event ended, and invited dear Dara Han along to complete the party.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When the 12<sup>th</sup> arrived I was pretty pumped. I had set a goal of More Day Trips and I was sticking to it. The four us made a merry, slightly silly party on the way to Kobe. Dara had been to the Luminarie before, so she knew at which stop we were to get off and the general area of the Chinatown. Atsushi had his new iPod Touch, which had the handy function of a 3G network, ergo he and Dara became the casual tour guides of the bunch. None of us had eaten much, so our first stop was Chinese food.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Chinatown was packed. It was no surprise—the illumination began when the sun set and we arrived at dusk. Still, the general mood soured a bit with the frustration of trying to navigate the throngs of people with their bags and children and strollers. Again, I don’t have a problem with being in a crowd, but I do admit that it was tough to stay together and even harder to figure out where and what to eat in the midst of it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We didn’t get very far into Chinatown itself; the crowd and hunger and snappy attitudes prevented us from forging ahead into the area’s heart. We finally stopped when we realized that most of the stall offerings looked the same. I can saw with confidence that our moods improved significantly when we put food in our bellies.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wQ7sqqeodFk/TWTllZ35hhI/AAAAAAAAA6g/BuTEZ-CYRYw/s320/IMG_4639.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d024EOP3d8A/TWTlqcixLcI/AAAAAAAAA6k/7ZjxvSmc_9E/s1600/IMG_4640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d024EOP3d8A/TWTlqcixLcI/AAAAAAAAA6k/7ZjxvSmc_9E/s320/IMG_4640.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> The pictures won't stay on the same line if I put captions on them, so I'll just tell you what they are. From left to right: Margaret is waiting for her food (and I for mine), Dara is enjoying the delights of some kind of meat on a stick, and Atsushi is first readying himself to shove food in his maw, then clearly has completed his mission in the second photo. I couldn't even tell you now what I ate. I had to go look at Dara's Facebook photos to remember that I had a "Chinese Burger," which was basically a steamed meat bun sawed in half. I would like to state that I've said before that "steamed meat bun" just sounds kind of gross. Nevertheless, if my words tasted like a steamed meat bun, I would eat them all and ask for seconds.<br />
<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="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eZkla37Sy1M/TWTlv0bF-4I/AAAAAAAAA6o/VOnAemCjW-c/s1600/IMG_4641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eZkla37Sy1M/TWTlv0bF-4I/AAAAAAAAA6o/VOnAemCjW-c/s320/IMG_4641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Despite Dara's generally photogenic features, my camera refused to capture her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EcGk5Qct-6E/TWTl1IOxo0I/AAAAAAAAA6s/SooljlOeEaE/s1600/IMG_4642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EcGk5Qct-6E/TWTl1IOxo0I/AAAAAAAAA6s/SooljlOeEaE/s320/IMG_4642.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret does not like crowds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Margaret and I both got these red bean paste-filled fried dough balls covered in sesame seeds. I have no idea what they were called, but they were awesome. Margaret almost got to enjoy hers before some lady jostled her, causing the delicious sesame thing to tumble to the grimy concrete. Poor doll.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-luOWFXYy_bw/TWT8vXuscsI/AAAAAAAAA60/TepwWlVqtZw/s1600/IMG_4643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-luOWFXYy_bw/TWT8vXuscsI/AAAAAAAAA60/TepwWlVqtZw/s200/IMG_4643.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">We stopped at the local Tully's for a coffee energizer and a bathroom break before getting in line for the lights. It was just getting dark as we got in line and the crowd was already thick. I have to hand it to the organizers of the event—they had put guardrails through the streets to ensure that no area got too crowded, and were letting the attendees go in shifts. We were shuffling along to the sound of some pleasant, airy song (that I assumed was something akin to, "Oh, the lights keep you close in me heart, illuminations are the stars of my winter" or the like) when Atsushi started laughing. He told us to listen to the words more carefully. Rather than an angelic tune about remembering the victims or some popular winter tune, the song in fact was urging "Please don't stop here. Take pictures later. Keep walking, if you please." Oh, Japan.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-43_wFmo4YnM/TWT-HBxmz7I/AAAAAAAAA64/fiRVFCgerzo/s1600/IMG_4644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-43_wFmo4YnM/TWT-HBxmz7I/AAAAAAAAA64/fiRVFCgerzo/s200/IMG_4644.JPG" width="200" /></a>The long line and the waiting in shifts took us through the shopping district in downtown Kobe. Having been rebuilt so recently, the place looks vastly difference from millenia-old Kyoto. A lot of the architecture made me nostalgic for <a href="http://angerseffect.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html">my time in France</a>, and darn me if I didn't renew my vow to someday go back and spend at least a year in that country. On a side note, I forgot that I was once one of those study abroad kids who hated it when other Americans, specifically, gathered around and yammered in our native tongue. I had reasons for it, but yes, I was one of <i>those</i> kids.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGJG3LvmPMw/TWUCEVLrdfI/AAAAAAAAA68/esMlvC9MHUw/s1600/IMG_4645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGJG3LvmPMw/TWUCEVLrdfI/AAAAAAAAA68/esMlvC9MHUw/s320/IMG_4645.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Moving on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We finally got to a point where we turned the corner and the crowd came to a halt on its own accord. Nobody was paying attention to the move-along song. We were all taking pictures of the beginning of the lights, which looked like this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLDk3IDbrxI/TWT7wKRpzjI/AAAAAAAAA6w/VaFEIoI1SWU/s1600/IMG_4649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SLDk3IDbrxI/TWT7wKRpzjI/AAAAAAAAA6w/VaFEIoI1SWU/s400/IMG_4649.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">These structures lined the entire arcade between the Patagonia and Chanel-type stores. Had there been no people around it might have taken us about ten minutes to walk down the whole thing. There was also a long section of this</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bw65JHsxZJM/TWUJjnT4arI/AAAAAAAAA7A/b2AjfB0hzkA/s1600/IMG_4653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bw65JHsxZJM/TWUJjnT4arI/AAAAAAAAA7A/b2AjfB0hzkA/s400/IMG_4653.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">after the arcade. Then, to top it all off, there was this light castle at the end with a gazebo inside. Just. Look at it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6VEZpyoNQhU/TWUNCFAwFQI/AAAAAAAAA7E/jRHiViBB28M/s1600/IMG_4656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6VEZpyoNQhU/TWUNCFAwFQI/AAAAAAAAA7E/jRHiViBB28M/s400/IMG_4656.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6uZ4LpgM1G4/TWUNJE8PpTI/AAAAAAAAA7I/InhFMm9Va8k/s1600/IMG_4660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6uZ4LpgM1G4/TWUNJE8PpTI/AAAAAAAAA7I/InhFMm9Va8k/s400/IMG_4660.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">See all that black stuff at the bottom? Those are people. We didn’t go in because we were a) unwilling to fight the crowd to get to the middle of all that mess, and b) ready to head back to ole Turtle Hill. We about-faced and headed for the stalls of food. There was a girl working a <i>taiyaki</i> stand wearing a <i>taiyaki</i> hat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vc8OljbkkP0/TWUP3WQlO7I/AAAAAAAAA7M/LI9-78UxIaU/s1600/IMG_4661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vc8OljbkkP0/TWUP3WQlO7I/AAAAAAAAA7M/LI9-78UxIaU/s320/IMG_4661.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Taiyaki</i> is a read bean paste-filled pastry shaped like the fish hat. It's good stuff, and is the same kind of festival food that a funnel cake is.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We wandered around a bit until we found things we wanted to eat. Dara found candy grapes and strawberry <i>daifuku</i> (hard to explain. It's a Japanese sweet). I found a candy <i>mikan</i>, or mandarin orange. Think about it. A juicy, ripe mandarin orange that has been dipped in orange candy. It's an awesome dessert.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vu3gFt1Y1jw/TWUP6uqwKrI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/P6XlexWUt8U/s1600/IMG_4662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vu3gFt1Y1jw/TWUP6uqwKrI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/P6XlexWUt8U/s320/IMG_4662.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was delicious until I dropped it on the ground. I still ate the part that hadn’t touched the cement (but only when Margaret wasn’t looking, because she is easily disgusted).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The end of this tale is that we clowned around on the way home and returned to Kameoka early and happy.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Good day to you, sirs and madams.</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-5055928960465562162011-02-10T17:47:00.001+09:002011-02-10T17:47:00.647+09:00I Wrote This<a href="http://tourist-blog.com/2011/02/osaka-travel-guide/">http://tourist-blog.com/2011/02/osaka-travel-guide/</a><br />
<br />
It says the author is "admin" and I didn't get paid for it, but I'm totally published on someone's "test project". It was an apology for quitting a not-yet writing gig for which I was going to be paid $0.002 per word, just like someone for whom English is a fourth language. I put almost no effort into it and shortened the length just so that it would be less appealing to real people. Still, I'm going to find rewritten versions of it all over the Internet.<br />
<br />
If you go to the link, don't click on any of the ads. That's exactly what he wants, that website owner. Don't do it.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-78688625371548789142011-02-08T06:20:00.001+09:002011-02-08T06:20:00.173+09:00DIY Disaster/Modern Art<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I was blogging this as I went, so be prepared for a bumpy ride.</span><br />
<br />
I've been searching for a light fixture for my bedroom since I moved in. I am broke, broke, broke, so buying the ones I find on design blogs aren't an option, and I've made a mistake at a store before. The mistake was only $40, but now I have a ceiling fan that I can't use because I wasn't specific enough when asking how the thing should be installed. Lesson learned. Nevertheless, the desire for centerpiece lighting in the bedroom remained.<br />
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The other day when I accidentally had a day off in the middle of the week, I was cruising design blogs and found <a href="http://curbly.com/chrisjob/posts/9303-how-to-make-a-mod-chandelier-for-under-10-00">this post on a modern chandelier made of wooden dowels</a>, one on <a href="http://www.designspongeonline.com/2010/10/diy-project-aunt-peaches-straw-cluster-chandelier.html">a chandelier made from drinking straws</a>, and a <a href="http://www.designspongeonline.com/2010/08/diy-project-brennas-paper-capiz-shell-chandelier.html">faux-capiz shell chandelier made of wax paper and ribbon</a>. I had just run out of parchment paper, had no wire and only 36 drinking straws, but a modern chandelier for under ten dollars? Why, that was right within my budget—free if I improvised a little and "made it my own." I didn't want to spend any money, but I had neither wooden dowels nor wood glue. What I did have was plenty of electrical tape, an abundant supply of <i>waribashi</i> (disposable chopsticks), and a fluorescent light. Let the art begin.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4aGo69CI/AAAAAAAAA5E/1Z_i4e8D7wo/s1600/IMG_4666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4aGo69CI/AAAAAAAAA5E/1Z_i4e8D7wo/s320/IMG_4666.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I found that I had enough <i>waribashi</i> to make nine hexagons, with four mismatched pairs remaining. I figured that I could do a vaguely spherical sculpture to hang over the light.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4fVy8hWI/AAAAAAAAA5I/XfJrL-WSqMU/s1600/IMG_4667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4fVy8hWI/AAAAAAAAA5I/XfJrL-WSqMU/s320/IMG_4667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I decided to use the mismatched pairs to make the top brace. I wanted to still use six chopsticks, but it seemed a little tedious to get the proportions right, especially considering that I was determined not to measure anything. I settled on a triangle and reasoned that I could adjust the structure as needed.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4mzBb_7I/AAAAAAAAA5M/yvX0feLXXc8/s1600/IMG_4669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4mzBb_7I/AAAAAAAAA5M/yvX0feLXXc8/s320/IMG_4669.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4r6L8gyI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/BKukM4ov3k0/s1600/IMG_4671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4r6L8gyI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/BKukM4ov3k0/s320/IMG_4671.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FYI</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4yQSXowI/AAAAAAAAA5U/syn9DFVmrHQ/s1600/IMG_4673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4yQSXowI/AAAAAAAAA5U/syn9DFVmrHQ/s320/IMG_4673.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ441OInkI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/lUDD1AFadFA/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ441OInkI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/lUDD1AFadFA/s320/IMG_4675.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4-eLstjI/AAAAAAAAA5c/vjnGPMmWwAA/s1600/IMG_4676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ4-eLstjI/AAAAAAAAA5c/vjnGPMmWwAA/s320/IMG_4676.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Attaching the hexagons to the brace was a little trickier. I didn't want the chopsticks to touch the light, but I didn't have much else to use, given that the only sturdy wire I had was being used to hold my dress shirts in the closet. I wasn't sure if electrical tape would prevent the weight of the chandelier from pulling any sticks attached to the brace perpendicularly from simply slipping out. Wrapping some electric tape around the top of chopsticks that hadn't been broken apart solved the problem. I could clothespin them over the top, then…figure out the rest. Also, after not having enough straws to make this chandelier, I figured I'd try to jazz up the chopsticks and electrical tape with some straws attached by picture-hanging wire. I'm a classy broad.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5DxOhhiI/AAAAAAAAA5g/7XErnQ3MWSo/s1600/IMG_4677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5DxOhhiI/AAAAAAAAA5g/7XErnQ3MWSo/s320/IMG_4677.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5KgWWA3I/AAAAAAAAA5k/0qugmF5ANfY/s1600/IMG_4679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5KgWWA3I/AAAAAAAAA5k/0qugmF5ANfY/s320/IMG_4679.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5QRzg-CI/AAAAAAAAA5o/4OLowVFKeQg/s1600/IMG_4680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5QRzg-CI/AAAAAAAAA5o/4OLowVFKeQg/s320/IMG_4680.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5VjzzM7I/AAAAAAAAA5s/2SO0kZDpf0M/s1600/IMG_4681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5VjzzM7I/AAAAAAAAA5s/2SO0kZDpf0M/s320/IMG_4681.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5av2Ad4I/AAAAAAAAA5w/6lMMtyASRxM/s1600/IMG_4682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5av2Ad4I/AAAAAAAAA5w/6lMMtyASRxM/s320/IMG_4682.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look. Jazz.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5f6ZCWII/AAAAAAAAA50/0S1o2vxgrNM/s1600/IMG_4683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5f6ZCWII/AAAAAAAAA50/0S1o2vxgrNM/s320/IMG_4683.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
After attaching the second hexagon I realized that I'd have to do the rest like Michelangelo did the Sistine Chapel—staring at the ceiling. I had no way to suspend the light fixture, so there was little else to do than reattach it to the ceiling. Since I'm blogging this as its happening, let me just say that I <i>know</i> it looks everything that is the opposite of good. Work in progress, and possibly there will be spray paint involved later. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5lph8WyI/AAAAAAAAA54/UhXhg5uwTTM/s1600/IMG_4684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5lph8WyI/AAAAAAAAA54/UhXhg5uwTTM/s320/IMG_4684.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5rEu1p-I/AAAAAAAAA58/7a8ArlCGHks/s1600/IMG_4685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5rEu1p-I/AAAAAAAAA58/7a8ArlCGHks/s320/IMG_4685.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5wiCX_FI/AAAAAAAAA6A/tRFoLk0Ko9s/s1600/IMG_4686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5wiCX_FI/AAAAAAAAA6A/tRFoLk0Ko9s/s320/IMG_4686.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Well, now it's starting to look like a lopsided pile of pickup sticks as opposed to the modern, clever fixture I had [kind of] envisioned. I think I'll make one more ring, take it out and spray paint it, then figure out where I'm going from there. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ508ZvCvI/AAAAAAAAA6E/TwZ3bi1IVG4/s1600/IMG_4688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ508ZvCvI/AAAAAAAAA6E/TwZ3bi1IVG4/s320/IMG_4688.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ56LoSWjI/AAAAAAAAA6I/twlrdVaAnuQ/s1600/IMG_4691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ56LoSWjI/AAAAAAAAA6I/twlrdVaAnuQ/s320/IMG_4691.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I found a can of wood stain that a friend had given me over a year ago. I figured that since I hadn't used it yet, I might as well make the chopsticks look like they'd been carved from old dorm furniture. It was very orange when I finished. I'll probably hate it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5_I-PzQI/AAAAAAAAA6M/DNTmeymXkaQ/s1600/IMG_4692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ5_I-PzQI/AAAAAAAAA6M/DNTmeymXkaQ/s320/IMG_4692.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I made and ate in the meantime.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ6EloGzzI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/yKw8hd9V808/s1600/IMG_4699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZ6EloGzzI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/yKw8hd9V808/s320/IMG_4699.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I do hate it.<br />
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However, I am not a wasteful person. I spent a lot of time on this fugly piece of crap, so I am going to save it. After another review of this straw cluster chandelier I opted to combine what straws I had with the mini-monstrosity that I had created. If I make it ugly enough, someone will think I did it on purpose and call me a genius.<br />
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There was a long pause when Margaret and Dara came over to have dinner. They both claimed that the cubist birdcage wasn't as hideous as I thought. Dara later helped me cut straws though, and claimed that when I attached them it looked cute, like snowflakes. I'm going with that. My friends are nice.<br />
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Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you "Caged Bird in Snow," my latest installation piece. I can make you one for $7,500.<br />
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<i>Update</i><br />
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During my unexpected visit to America I stopped by Hobby Lobby. I bought a large glue gun (the only one I have is tiny) and wood glue sticks. I came back to Japan, went to work for one day, and then went to Taiwan. I returned from the Land of Smiles on Monday, January 10 at about 6:30 p.m. After dropping my suitcase on the floor I hauled the space heater into the bedroom. I watched one episode of <i>Psych</i> while I dismantled my postmodern birdcage light fixture. Then I used hemp string to hang the fluorescent light from my desk. I shoved a large piece of cardboard underneath, heated up the glue gun, and stayed up until 2 a.m. making a new light fixture. <i>Et voila.</i><br />
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The downside is that I’d have to take it apart if one of the bulbs ever burned out, or if I suddenly wanted to spray paint it. I do want to paint it. I’m not really the type to think ahead. Nevertheless, I have a passable, mostly free light fixture. It looks like a nest, but I don’t have a name for it yet. Feel free to leave suggestions in the comments.<br />
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</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-73432633968905107942011-02-04T09:33:00.001+09:002011-01-31T23:42:24.561+09:00Oh, Hello, Christmas.<div class="MsoNormal">Now that I've gone through Thoughts On Death I feel that I can talk about my Christmas vacation on a lighter note. I took no pictures of the actual vacation part, so everything you see here was pulled from one of my relatives' Facebook accounts.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was having trouble with my inability to be home for Christmas. I cried big ugly sobs one night for no other reason than hearing Jo Stafford's child say, "You sing it, mommy," on her album <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Happy Holidays: I Love The Winter Weather.</i> It's a fantastic record, by the way. Trips to America are expensive, and after the incredible summer vacation in Trinidad and the U.S.* it would have been fiscally irresponsible to go home again. I knew that in my head, but my heart was breaking.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>However, once I had given all that homesickness to the good Lord-y, I came to terms with baby's first Christmas away from home. I made plans with ALTs stuck in Japan for the holidays. I was going to make <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mochi</i> with some girls from my calligraphy class. I was going to go to Taiwan after the New Year with Kim-Chi. I would clean my house, organize all of my school papers, and write. I went all out on Christmas presents and shipped them home. I made my own Christmas decorations and several batches of winter cider. I was an adult, dangit, and I would not forget the joy of Christmas just because I wouldn't be in Oklahoma on the 25<sup>th</sup>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>All that changed when my grandmother passed away. Suddenly I was rushing to pack, clean my house (thanks, Dara and Kim-Chi!) and catch a plane home. The sadness of my loved one's death cast a pall on the occasion, but I was going home!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZly88OlkI/AAAAAAAAA40/g9iChaIko6c/s1600/166640_1763250528383_1452708830_1876165_751185_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZly88OlkI/AAAAAAAAA40/g9iChaIko6c/s200/166640_1763250528383_1452708830_1876165_751185_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><o:p> </o:p>The first couple of days are blurry now. My sister and I managed to sit together on the flight from Dallas to Tulsa, and when I slept off my travel she went out and got a new job. I got to see some of my favorite people in the world, ate way too much at every meal, and attended my grandmother's funeral. My siblings and I performed a short interpretation of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Nutcracker</i> twice. I heard my parents rap at least three times (and misguided my mother on how to "throw down"). I told my family what I'd decided to do for life, helped serve communions, helped fumigate our house, and wrote a song with my siblings in honor of our cousin's birthday. It was busy.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZllzqmzgI/AAAAAAAAA4w/6vTqgB70uaw/s1600/166640_1763250408380_1452708830_1876162_3343085_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/TUZllzqmzgI/AAAAAAAAA4w/6vTqgB70uaw/s200/166640_1763250408380_1452708830_1876162_3343085_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Any Christian worth his or her salt knows that Jesus was born in spring, and that the wise men didn't find him until he was a toddler. Those nativity scenes are pretty bogus. I know that Christmas was a holiday created in order to give Christians something to celebrate during the solstice festivities. I don't blame old Pope Julius for it. The end results are awesome. You know, after caroling stopped being a drunken, mischievous affair and the church quit outlawing it. Point is, I love the reason Christmas was created. I love what Christmas ideals are now. I love Jesus, I love my family and friends, and I love giving presents.</div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I did discover that I could spend Christmas away from home and still love it. I still think Karen Carpenter sang it right. There's no place like home for the holidays.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">*I'll finish those blog posts someday, but I lost my notebook on an airplane. Many of the details and dates are gone.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Note: If you want to see the pictures full-size you can a) click on them, or b) send a Facebook friend request to my aunt.</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-8735103974853365432011-02-02T07:04:00.000+09:002011-01-31T16:08:02.321+09:00Goodbye, Eddie Davis<div class="MsoNormal">On Monday, December 20<sup>th</sup> I awoke to the sound of my alarm. I rolled over and grabbed my mobile phone, intending to press the snooze key, but was surprised to find that a text message awaited me. It was dated that day at 3 a.m. and read simply: Grandma's in heaven. Left about 11:50. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That was my first thought. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh</i>. Grandma had been less than 24 hours short of her 100<sup>th</sup> birthday. My family had planned a party. There was to be a newspaper article about her. She'd received a certificate from the governor.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then I thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh, no</i>. There would be no party. Worse still, I'd never see her again. There would be no more notes in the mail in her shaky, aged handwriting telling me about the weather and how old she is. I'd never again come home and kiss her weathered cheek, never help her down stairs, never hear her tell the same stories over and over (they never got old). I'd never see her wink at me when she was sneakng candy, never hear her proclaim her hunger for something sweet, never hear her hack in the bathroom, never hug her, never hear her telling me how she prays for her grandchildren—my heart hurt.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me clarify. My heart hurt for me and for my family, for all of us left behind. I shed tears because of a temporary separation during which Grandma will be separated from any physical plane that I can see or touch. I don't talk about my faith much on this blog because I believe in evangelizing through my actions (and I don't enjoy being attacked for believing in things other than Almighty Science). My grandmother's death, however, merits more than a passing mention of how I deal with seeming tragedy as a Christian. My grandmother was nothing if not a faithful believer in Jesus Christ. I wouldn't do her honor by ignoring that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We didn't "lose" my grandmother. Yes, she was old, but that doesn't diminish the hole left in our family. Of course my family is sad about that. What we're not sad about is that Eddie B. Davis is exactly where she wanted to be. My grandmother has been telling me for years that we never knew if we'd see each other again. She was ready to go, and she knew, just as I know, that once her time on this earth had ended that paradise awaited.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">She told me in the summer, "I just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pray</i> that I go to sleep and Jesus takes me home." It sounds cute when I repeat it in her accent. To those who consider Christianity a means of brainwashing or a haven for the illogical masses, this just sounds like the charming, somewhat morbid ramblings of a senile old lady. Consider this: by in large, what humans fear the most is death. Horror films aren't about how people are super frightened by a scary thing. Horror films are all about how people die, or are at least in danger of it. Grave danger, even, because I'm punny. My grandmother, a 99-year-old woman from nowhere, Texas, looked death in the eye and welcomed it. She knew that her god was stronger than death, stronger than any pain that she felt, stronger than the gradual degeneration of her cells, stronger than the void she would leave behind when she left, and stronger than any grief we would feel because of it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That's an amazing kind of conviction, I think.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I became a Christian at the age of six, when I was far to young to understand everything that commitment meant. I remain a Christian because there is nothing seen or unseen in this world that is stronger than my certainty that Grandma had it right. I'm no unlearned idiot (summa cum laude and a lifetime membership to Alpha Chi, heifers!),* and I don't discount science. When I read that Pluto was no longer a planet, I believed it. If someone were to find the missing link between the velociraptor and a bantam rooster, I wouldn't cry fowl.** It doesn't disprove my worldview. However, when someone tells me there is no afterlife and no all-loving, all-powerful, all-knowing being that loves me and cares for me, I shake my head. Ah, if you knew what I know.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Death and I aren't strangers. I remember being shocked in college when a friend told me that she had never been to a funeral. I think I've been to as many funerals as I have weddings, and I'm no stranger to wedding cake, either. I don't say this to brag; it's nothing of which to be proud. Semi-frequent funeral attendance nevertheless has given me fair chance to sort out how I feel about death in general. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Do I want to claim a religion that includes a hell? Do I want to be a part of something that Darwin claimed is the opiate of the masses; am I using religion as a crutch to deal with the reality of death?</i> I'd be lying to say that my faith never wavered. There have been a few of those funerals during which I thought angrily, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why, God? Couldn't you have done something? Why let young, good people die?</i> I've had some intense study sessions researching what my religion says about the matter, and equally intense reflection during which I figure out if I want to ascribe to it or not.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You're likely in awe of my intelligence and studiousness. I'm pretty amazing, what with my philosophical musings about death. I mean, I took Philosophy 101 in college Pass/Fail (passed it in spite of falling asleep twice during the final, natch), so I pretty much know all there is to know about the subject. Duh. I skimmed excerpts from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">many</i> books and articles during that class, so again I emphasize my encompassing knowledge of philosophy. It comes with being a genius.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The burden of my genius is realizing that I'm rambling. If you're still reading I expect you've forgiven me on account that this is a personal blog and not an essay on grief and coping. I'll be kind and wrap it up within the next paragraph.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don't mourn my grandmother because I know as sure as I know I'm breathing that she's jitterbugging right where she belongs. My grandmother left a legacy. Her descendants received a powerful sweet tooth, broad ribcages, and only my siblings escaped the gene for being barely at or slightly below average height. She also left a legacy of faith. We talk about a "legacy of faith" in the Christian community, but the short version is that Eddie B. Davis was a Christian through and through, and convinced us that she would be nothing good with out Christ. Ladies and gentlemen, my grandmother was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/SHFkvjlW4iI/AAAAAAAAABg/tfEhuffOYLE/s1600/Photo+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/SHFkvjlW4iI/AAAAAAAAABg/tfEhuffOYLE/s320/Photo+8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/SHFklj-gnfI/AAAAAAAAABY/yb5nF6MxCzI/s1600/Photo+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BaVcGrpaXYc/SHFklj-gnfI/AAAAAAAAABY/yb5nF6MxCzI/s320/Photo+6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">* This means nothing in the world. Also, my college was small. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**I think I'm making my father proud—him and every old man who's ever told a crappy joke.</div>Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2660159213028627791.post-14907871733172283162011-01-29T07:31:00.000+09:002011-01-31T16:47:34.770+09:00Craigslist Filler: K My Name Is<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxRD6KXpqqU2_uN0j9RsRG2qTj6GSqKZKa4hXNw86BKWxJmPfek_kEqthFRWwYbDRkCpfj5wfZEQRFqkUpL' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>This one is from a young woman, to let you all know that I'm an equal opportunity mocker.Laurel Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08184274144168527372noreply@blogger.com0