short trip, long trip home

Well, I headed to San Francisco for the weekend.  This was to be a relatively uneventful trip -- of course, it was a bit more of an adventure.  

Fortunately, the weekend itself was lovely.  Friday was quiet, and I took a trip into San Francisco to meet up with my cousin Amanda & her friend Brittney.  They're both studying abroad this next semester, and it makes me so happy.  I so loved my time abroad, and it's such a chance to branch out, travel, and really come into ones own.  It changed me so much, and now, I just can't wait to go back.  Of course, that has to wait.

But this time, I headed back to Eric and Lisa's and had a quiet night.  We knew that another 8 people were showing up that night (ok, 3 a.m.) so we relished the calm.  

The session was the next day, and it was... amazing.  Probably one of the best we've ever had.  Engaging, funny, dark, plot-focused... It managed to completely take my breath away, and I was so glad I went.  More on exactly why later, though, because we must focus on the road home. 

My flight was cancelled due to thundersnow in DC, and the first flight out that I could get on was at 7pm.  Fortunately, I was rescued by Lisa, who fed me and we chatted non stop for 5 hours.  From there, I present my trip in photographic form.  

I think that pretty much sums it up.   I have never been happier to see mini-bagels in my life.  

More on the session itself later. 

"ever forward"

Today, we did not realize, was Bid Day at American.  For those uninitiated into sorority culture, it comes after Rush, which is when prospective girls and sororities attend a massive amount of get-togethers in the attempt to find a good match with each other.  

Bid Day is a Big Deal.  It is when you find out which sorority picked you -- there is a complicated mutual matching process, but that is a post for another day -- and at a pre-arranged place, all the sisters gather and welcome you into the sorority.  There is, to be expected, a lot of screaming involved.  It was this particular screaming that caught our attention in the middle of "Colloquium: History of the United States 1865 - Present" because it was all around us and quite honestly, came out of nowhere.

It's a big class, and a significant chunk of them are girls, and I was the only sorority member there.  I realize that there is a nerd factor with History MAs that does not usually correspond on the Venn Diagram of Life with sorority membership, but it's not unheard of.   Still, everyone was rolling their eyes at "those sorority girls" and while I realize that's a typical response, I wasn't sure how to explain.  Of course, I mentioned that I was the only one there (laughing) but I couldn't really explain Bid Day. 

My Bid Day was fabulous.  There were only 4 of us, because we were the smallest sorority, and other groups had new member ("pledge" having all those connotations, it's no longer used) classes of 20-25, but we were 4.  We had to run the length of the soccer field, because that's where the Sigma girls were, but it was exhilarating, running all the way, and running right into screaming, hugging, happy girls who were so thrilled to have us.  Of course, I knew most of the girls at this point (and lived with some of them) but nonetheless it was wonderful.  

The next year, I helped at Rush and again, they had a low number of girls.  This was particularly painful, because we had worked so hard and met some wonderful girls.  But that's how the chips fall.  Everyone was depressed, and showed it on the field, before our new girls came out to meet us.   I realized then: Wow, they must have been sad last year too -- but I had no idea.  I had no idea that to get a class of 4 is a hard blow to the sorority, and painful doubly so because of all the other classes around you at that exact moment.  I just felt loved and so close to all my friends.

I was determined to not let the new girls feel this way.  We chanted and cheered until we couldn't scream anymore, because I wanted them to have the same experience that I did.  That welcoming sense, that love, that embracing (literally) that I remember as such a happy night.

So maybe I can convey what Bid Night means to me... but it's tricky.   

I can't explain that these bonds are deep, and the happiness I get when I think of the mini-sisterhood nights that I had with two of my closest friends, Jen and Hannah, while we watched Battlestar Galactica together.  It lives on, in our frantic emails back and forth between the three of us, trying to solve who the final Cylon was, and I love it.

Oh, and of course I texted cousin Jacqui, a Chi Omega here at American -- she sent back: "haha sorry we're so obnoxious."   Honestly, though?  It just made me happy.

snakes & characters

Well.  Today is the first day that I've actually been coherent enough to blog.   But what a day!   We met up and headed to the Nature Lab at RISD, where I'd been (briefly) before, but this time, we met up with Kate & Andrew, who work there, and were able to give us a full tour.  

We met Netop (above), an amelanistic (sherbet colored!) corn snake, who, for the first time in my life, made me want to own a snake.  We bonded. 

But first: the show last night.  This was Claire's final show for Illustration at the Rhode Island School of Design [ risd ] and I was absolutely thrilled I got to pop up to Rhode Island to see!  

It consisted of 7 total artists, and while I knew a few and was familiar with their work, I was still blown away at their newest projects, or even looking at the art I'd seen a second time.  It was just so perfect.   The works all had these unintentional parallels, which were neat to follow, and it was great to be in that environment where everyone was so excited about the art. 

(I haven't posted lots of pictures of the art, because their websites do a much better job!  See bottom of the post!)

It makes me contemplative, and thinking back to my own senior year, when I had things pretty much nailed down in March.  I knew what I was going to do, and in retrospect, I worry I picked that too quickly.  But it's done nothing but benefit me, so I should be grateful for that path.  

Dad and I were talking to Claire's professor, Shanth -- who, incidentally, is amazing & we've sat in on classes that I still think about -- and he was talking about what he tells graduating seniors about where they should go.  The idea coincided with Dad's idea of "go where it's scary," with this thought of "go where you can grow."  I really liked that.  I like that idea of going to a place that you're still terrified of, but knowing that you'll find your feet, and the only way is up.   It's a good thing to keep in mind, especially with that on my horizon again. 

But back to RISD! 

The Nature Lab was great.  Kate fed chameleons, I hung out with a snake, we met turtles, saw doves, and ogled an albino Madagascar hissing cockroach.  Also, there is metric tons of taxidermy there, and it's just a great space.  Very Victorian Natural History Museum-y. 

How beautiful is that?  

Beetle Love Tank.  My favorite part.  

More of me and Netop.

And finally, we went to one of Claire's classes on Character Design.  We love the professor -- see above: Shanth -- and just sat and watched.  It made me miss college (and relish that I'm going back!) and my mind is boggled by the fact of just so much creativity there.  

Claire made this orca for her protagonist, and her sketches later of it are quite possibly the most adorable thing ever.  

For more pictures of the show, see my flickr album or Mom's post about it.

Also links to assorted artwork:  

• Claire [ shoomlah.com ] 
  
• Kate Walsh [ oliveselkie.com ]  
  
• Beth Zaiken [ bethzaiken.com ]
  

anniversaries

Today, April 26th, is the two-year anniversary of my grandpa's death.  It's strange.  To be honest, I had forgotten.  I have little to no recollection for this particular date, only that I recall that it was mid-April (ish), but I thought it was earlier.   

I remember exactly where I was when I found out (Gettysburg College, senior parking lot, driver's seat) and events afterwards, but I have literally no memory connected with those events happening on any day in particular.   How very strange, but not altogether unsurprising.  

My aunt sent out an email a few weeks ago letting us know of the upcoming anniversary (which, incidentally, was how I found out when it was) and a suggestion that we use the day to spend it thinking of Grampa and do something that reminded us of him. 

Well, I forgot that it was today.  I forgot, that is, until I started to get emails in my inbox from various & sundry relations, forgot again, and remembered as I am heading to bed, as the day is turning into the next.  

I'm not sure yet what I will do.  Right now, I'm listening to a recording of Clair de Lune, which has certain points in the melody that bring out such quick, sharp memories that it surprises me.

I finally finished Atlas Shrugged.  I've had it for 6 years.  He bought it for me (of course).  I finally re-started reading it a few weeks ago, and could barely put it down.

I return again to the Edith Wharton quote that I read during the memorial service, and perhaps it's something good to meditate on:

"...one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways."  

I stick by that being a consummate description of Gramps.  

I suppose the real point is, at least for me, Gramps was such a key figure in my life that I can't help but think of him.  

Little things: pianos, skiing, hawai'i, green grapes, the waldorf=astoria (not so little), Lincoln...  It surrounds me.  Even my cherry-blossom print, which has not yet found a home on my wall.  

Those are my every-day memories, the things that make me smile.  It's the things I don't expect, that crop up in unexpected ways, that are how I cherish his memory. 

Another year will pass soon, and I will most likely forget the date again.  That doesn't matter.  What matters is the love, the happy memories -- I was just reminded of Kemp's Koffee Korner and those marine-layer mornings! -- and lessons learnt.  Be a leader!

cherry blossom-time

It's late March, which means it's time for the cherry blossoms.  It's also my one-year anniversary of living in DC.  Technically that was sometime in February, but I associate it with cherry blossoms, so now it is.

Still living in a transitory state.  Moving in two months, looking for a job, waiting for graduate schools.  Is it too much just to want to settle down and live in the same place for longer than 9 months?  For the past 6 years, that's what I've been doing, and at this point it's simply... exhausting.

I've avoided lots of the trappings of homes (couches, dressers) because of the moving (although I have my stand mixer which is not really conducive to nomadism).  I'd like to have a place where I can have dinner parties, and movie nights, and cook for people. 

This sounds more melancholy than I intended.  I meant to talk about the beauty of cherry blossoms and how I found this retro-woodcut print at the Sackler and I think it's simply beautiful.   I was struck that I think Gramps would have loved it, though I'm not sure if that's because he would love the print itself (of course, discussion of the view from the bathroom of the Georgetown house would ensue!), or what it symbolizes: this new chapter in my life, living on my own, seeing this new spring. 

I wish he were here.  It's been a hard year -- and for that I'm glad he wasn't around to see -- but I wish I could have shown him this city, not just as DC, which he knew, but as my town.   

I still have a letter he wrote to me when I turned 21, and I just re-read it.

The little picture on the table in my bedroom was taken when you were about 1 year.  It is a favorite of mine as you project such happiness and wonder, sort of like you just can't wait to see what lies ahead.

You have a wonderful sense of family and such appreciation for all they do for, and with, you and Claire.  This seems so natural to you, but I can't stress how important this is over the years to come.  So many families find this really difficult so what a blessing we have in our closeness and mutual support.

As you contemplate graduation that ole devil anxiety will try to intrude, saying "What will I do now?"  Well, as Mrs E. says, "Stand porter at the door of thought --."  It has no right to enter your mental home for you have a God given right to know the next step even if it seems remote at present.  And remember to look for opening doors for one will open at each stage of your experience and more often than not at the same time that a door is closing.

Tomorrow, I'm going to see the cherry blossoms.

trips north & south and into space

over the shoulder
Originally uploaded by hummeline

Well, it is already Tuesday, and Claire & I have been quite busy.  Saturday she arrived, and we immediately headed out to a Pirate-themed restaurant / bar (yep) where my friends were gathering for a release party of a new CD of a pirate band!  Claire got along swimmingly with the rest, due to well-timed references to Mystery Science Theatre 3000, among other shrines of nerdliness.

Sunday a lovely Easter spent with family, which contained the event of our cousin admitting to our staunchly Republican family that she is interning at the DNC, which was blurted out, confession-like, after we had earlier banned all political discussion.  Of course, having a family gathering without a discussion about politics is not likely to happen, and we were summarily roped into a lively discussion about the current slate of presidential hopefuls. 

Claire & I headed then south to Williamsburg to ogle pretty clothes (and handsome men in them) and meet with friends.  It proved to be quite fun, as we met up with most of the old crew that wears funny old-fashioned clothes, as evidenced on the right. 

Now, Claire & I  have just finished disc 1 of Battlestar Galactica Season 3, the whole of which I must finish by April 4th at 10 pm, when season 4 begins.  Have faith in me. 

Also, we made enchiladas!  Please enjoy the picture of our creation, along with some lovely Gaius Baltar being the embracer of Cylons that he always is.  Mmm...delicious.   So say we all.

riding on the side of the trolley.

So today was actually day 2 of my trip to San Francisco -- which I claimed was my first, but realized that I'd actually been before -- and it was fantastic.  

Day 1 is (kind-of) summarized here [at welcome to thomasville, the family blog] and I will add further explanations of strange stories.   

For starters, after a lovely trip around Golden Gate Park, we were walking towards my cousin Amanda, who goes to school at the University of San Francisco.  We started admiring this house, and a man standing outside, looking up at the house with arms crossed, asked us what we thought.  Of course, it's a gorgeous Victorian...!  He then proceeds to invite us inside to see the renovation he just completed!   Want.  

Also, here is proof we did not get lost (even though we trusted my sense of direction!) and managed to find the Japanese Tea Garden, which is absolutely breathtaking.  I climbed a giant bridge -- and the picture is the view of Mom from the very tip-top.

Today we headed down to Fisherman's Wharf, and took a cable car to get there.  We managed -- as is so typical with trips I take -- to get stuck twice, and had to be pushed by a truck with what appeared to be a trolley-plow attached to the front end.

However, we made it to the Wharf, and got denied to go to Alcatraz, so wandered instead, managing to find our way inside the Musée Mecanique, which is basically a warehouse full of olde-tyme coin-operated stereoscopic viewers and mechanical amusement goodness. 

 I present the mechanical Opium Den, which involved a dragon snaking its way into the scene, and an opium addict shuddering.  Heh. 

Also, here I am waching the UNKNOWN, which apparently, in the 1920s, just meant naked ladies with veils over parts of them.  Fantastic.

Finally ended up at Ghiradelli's for ice cream sundaes.

On the way back, we attempted cable car again, and this time: success!  Managed to snag Mom a seat in the front, and I hung on the outside, which was, of course, my intent from the beginning.  Almost smacked into some car side mirrors, but managed the ride relatively unscathed. 

For more pictures & things of that nature, I'll be posting to my flickr account.  Here are specifically SF photos.

the oscars!

Well, my theoretical Oscar bash turned into a very mellow gathering of five.  Ballots for some, "There Will Be Blood" milkshakes for all, and we all had a fantastic time.  

Mom has blogged about this, but I thought I'd expound on my love of all things Oscar.  Part of it is that it's such ritual in our house, but part of that is because it's so much fun to take part in something Dad is so involved with.  Even though I missed -- with the lack of TiVo and high-def TV! -- Mom's hair on the slim bit of the Sci-Tech awards, I still get a kick out of it.  It's one of my connections to LA, so I hold it tight.

In memoriam came on, which included cinematographer / babysitter extraordinaire,Lazlo Kovacs.  I don't know what to say that hasn't been said more eloquently before me, but I was so glad I got to see him a year or so ago in Los Feliz, abeit briefly.  His story of his escape from Hungary always boggled my mind -- filming the tanks rolling into Budapest, then hiding the film in a field to retrieve later, and then making their escape.

My favorite part is that he and his friend Vilmos (also a cinematographer!) got drunk on Coca-Cola when out of Hungary, because it symbolized everything about freedom and the West.  How wonderful -- and even better: we found out the professor I worked for during college and adore, Gabor Boritt, had almost the same experience the moment he got out of Hungary as well (in his son Jake's documentary: From Budapest to Gettysburg).   I love that two men that mean so much to me had such similar experiences.  It makes the world seem smaller and more connected. 

adventures on the streets

So last week, I got a spur-of-the-moment call from my cousin.  She had been in Baltimore this past summer working on Step Up 2: The Streets, which meant that, because she was close by, I actually saw her!   Now, the film is finally done (released yesterday) but she had gotten an invitation to a Cast & Crew Screening in Baltimore, and invited myself & her friend who was an extra.

Honestly I had no idea what to expect -- I vaguely knew the premise of the original (ballet dancer falls for boy from wrong side of the tracks who teaches her to dance) -- but I think the best part was arriving there and hearing everyone's sheer excitement to see her there.  She was pulled away every minute from a dancer, or a grip or the AD -- introductions were passed around, but it really didn't matter.  I didn't need to meet them - the joy was seeing her in her element. 

After the film, we went to the after party where music was blasting, and most of the dancers from the film were freestyling.  It was hypnotic, just to stand in the circle, just watching them move (and knowing I have never moved that coordinated in my entire life) and it was my favorite part of the night, just because I couldn't tear my eyes away.

There's something about the music, and the crowd -- it made me understand that need to dance in the film.  I've always enjoyed dancing -- it's been something I look forward to, but it's never been something that fuels me.  This dance -- this music -- it is what keeps these people going.   It is every fibre of their being.  How magnetic.

Oh, and the film was quite fun, too.  

new snow

Last night was rough. Lots of things, I don't want to get into it really - death involved - but what was beautiful is I walked outside at midnight and there was the lightest dusting of snow on the ground. It was so quiet, so still, and covered with sugared coating over the muddy grass.

It was like some sort of present - some secret, shown to me at one of my most vulnerable points - and to prove its secrecy, it was gone the next day.

But I know I didn't dream it.