Amusement

The Boy sent this to me when he should have been doing some last minute cramming for a midterm, but it was hilarious so I cut him some slack. (He doesn't like being nagged anyway. Not that I think I nag. Maybe a little.) 

This is mildly related to a conversation we had a few weeks ago, on a drive up to Cerritos (which, incidentally, means 'little hills').

Anyway, read on. I am so amused :) 

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A Spainish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.
'House' for instance, is feminine: 'la casa.'
'Pencil,' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.'

A student asked, 'What gender is 'computer'?' Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the
class into two groups,male and female,and asked them to decide for themselves whether
computer'should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give fourreasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that 'computer' should definitely be of the Feminine gender('la computadora'), because:
1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is Incomprehensible to everyone else;
3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

(THIS GETS BETTER!)

The women's group, however, concluded that computers
should be Masculine ('el computador'), because:
1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;
2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves;
3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a Little longer, you could have gotten a better model.

The women won.

Ready? Go.

Staying the summer in San Diego was an awesome, awesome decision, even if I do say so myself. "Quality of life" as a direct result of blue skies and sunshine makes a lot of sense, don't you think?

The past couple days I have felt a lot like blogging, but could not get my hands on Wall-E, my lovely laptop (*ahem phillip kidding). So here is a quick rundown of the past couple of weeks.

I'm still working at my marketing internship, though for the past two weeks or so, neither of my supervisors have been in at all, so Elaine and I have been doing our own work, which includes facebook refreshers every ten minutes and emailing each other about what the middle-aged sales ladies are gossiping about. 

And, somewhere along the way, (with Angel's help and Wes' approval) I have developed my (short-term) 5-year plan. (Also, I have discovered I am a parenthetical fan). I will go home at the end of summer, I WILL make my dad discover the joy and love of having a pet dog, I WILL immerse myself in digital art, in the form of classes for photography, web design, photoshop, etcetera. I WILL find and internship at a small, event planning boutique, and work my way up. At which point I WILL find my profession as an art director, and be fulfilled professionally. 

I like the word 'will'. Not that, I'd like to think, I impose my will on others. But I can at least impose my will on myself, yea? And it makes a difference. It makes me feel like I'm beginning to move in the right direction. 

So now, in a cozy alcove in Perks Coffee Shop in the UCSD bookstore, I have yet to begin any real work but am enjoying the pretense of it. I have a tiny table with everything laid out just so, with home brewed (and therefore inexpensive) green-tea lemonade in a pink bottle, notebook and favorite pen in my purse and Wall-E (cheeky little bugger) sitting poised and ready in front of me. 

Ready? 

Yes.

Go. 

I'm going to post something every Monday. I need to get back into the habit of writing.

run, emily, run,

The city's been hit by a heat wave in the middle of January, so when it finally begins to drizzle, you decide to brave the wetness for a chance to get at the smell of rain.

You clip the leash onto Jacques collar (dark blue, seven shades darker than his eyes) before you start bundling yourself up. Jacques hasn't seen rain in a long time, and is anxious to get out. He watches you pull on galoshes and button buttons, yowling reproachfully when you realize you skipped a button and must start all over again.

Once you make it out the door, Jacques is all twitching nose and quivering mass and bright eyes. He tugs, pulling the leash taut as he hurries up the street. You give in a little, if only because of the element of surprise, but tug back when you regain your balance.

Jacques, you say in your warning voice.

He slows appropriately, but flashes you a look that is entirely joyful. And then you can't help but unclip the leash as soon as you reach the empty park. You take a step back to watch, dry underneath your umbrella as he stands still for quivering moment before bounding straight across the entire length of the park at full speed.

You don't worry that he might run out into the street - Jacques is smarter than that. People in their cars coo and aww at him when he sits down patiently at pedestrian walkways to wait for the chance to cross.

He tears joyfully back and forth between a triangle of trees, pausing only long enough to dig with his front paws or chase his tail or take a quick roll in the wet grass, and today, you don't even flinch.

Roll, baby, you say instead, laughing.

His ears prick at the sound, and he finishes up his game before he returns to you in that long, loping gait of wolves.

You love the way he moves, all easy grace and show posture. It was love at first sight for you, when you walked into the kennel and the first thing you saw was Jacques (then named Leonidus or some ridiculous name like that) sitting patiently with his head cocked as he observed you, but you think he may have loved you long before you walked into that adoption center.

When he reaches you he pauses to wag his tail and yip yip yip, still not too tired for games. When you only smile, he pushes his nose into your knee and takes off again, stopping short of the treeline to look back at you with adoration in his eyes.

Run Emily, he says. Run.

a clean slate

First fifteen minutes of my first class of the first day of the new quarter...

I already feel myself slipping into a stupor.



New Years Resolutions:
o1. learn/work on picking my battles. aka strategy haha
o2. read more. joy luck club right now, Shakespeare should make it on my list too
o3. show my appreciation more/ do more for parents
o4. learn more. I guess this fits in with no. 2, but I figure at this time in my life, if I want to try something, I need that just go do it attitude. If I end up not liking it, then I can always try something else.
o5. write something. a screenplay, a full story, etc etc?

oooh excellent, my German Politics professor has a Scottish accent. how lovely. time to listen.

into the suitcase

I sat tonight, as you would normally assume I would be the night before a plane ride, on the floor, amidst a small mountain of folded clothes. The only things I had packed so far were two pairs of jeans and two pairs of shoes.

And it hit me, sometime between helping my mom dye her hair and that moment, that the countdown had begun. I suppose, however, that it had been creeping up on me all year, ever since the beginning of summer. But now its really here.

And I'm not always passive. Sometimes I go-get with the best of them. But it is a little harder when you have no idea what it is you're going to go-get. I do have my answer, when they ask me that question - if you have all the money you need, what would you do with your spare time? I have my answer, but mostly I'm anxious about giving it.

Topic Jump.

But does anyone else feel like college was sort of a stagnant time? I still feel like I'm 18, with a few minor adjustments - namely the fact that I can now buy alcohol in any country. And I'm better dressed. With a better haircut.

But anyway, stagnancy, anyone? And while staying that way through (almost) four years of college, it serves as a kind of control, to see how everyone else around you is getting older - or at any rate, not getting any younger.

And I know, I KNOW that my parents have always been getting older. But it hits me every time I come home - they look older and more tired. It's a scary thought process, one I shan't get into because I'm too tired to think loop-de-loops, but its still there, and its still scary. And my little brothers aren't so little anymore. Even little Patrick is ginormously tall and a lot more grown up than I remember.

mmmfffft.


They told me it would be uncertain. They forgot to mention that it would be terrifying, the not knowing.

Happy New Year!

A new year means a new medium! at least for however long it holds my attention. and however long it remains pretty and efficient.

I'm very happy today, content to sit around and lounge and be on the phone and watch TV and blog. I don't know what is different about today, except that its the first day of the new year, and maybe it really is that. But who knows.

Today, I feel at peace.

And, to usher in all the goodness of the new year, let me leave you with this:


res ispa loquitur. let the good times roll.