some things i can't find

EDIT: After posting the below Ross called me with an update.

I have to hand it to Ross: he did an exemplary job of packing up our house, fitting everything we owned into a tiny little pod, and doing it all with no small amount of organization. Good job, spouse. But, as is always the case with these situations, there are still some things I can't find. Here they are:

• kitchen sponges Ne'er to be seen again... who moves sponges, anyway?
• laundry hamper Still in OR, but that's ok, because I have my VERY OWN washer and dryer
• can opener This one really is buried in a box somewhere
• stereo FOUND
• hand soap To be bought
• laundry soap FOUND
• dishwasher soap Also to be bought
• Creature (just kidding, although don't think Ross didn't think about it) Still kidding about this

Shopping List:

• Kitchen sponges
• Hand soap
• Dishwasher soap

There... wasn't that productive?

gold star... yes!

clicky to make biggy

Maybe I freaked out a little bit when I saw this in an email from one of my professors. Maybe I've still got a big goofy smile on my face. Maybe.

Also, maybe I need to go back to work on my paper, now.

you stay classy, maryland

There's a couple yelling at each other in the parking lot behind my apartment. Classy.

That is all.

take it down a notch for america

I know not everyone will agree with me here, and that's fine, but I am so incredibly excited for this.

what's in your backpack?

This is my backpack and my water bottle.

Note: The text says The Graduate Programs At GW. It was free.

This is how my backpack looks when I open it up. It's very, very heavy.

These are the things inside my backpack. The big blue book is very, very, very thick and full of early modern travel writing and criticism. Good times.

Note: The books vary, of course, but this is a fairly representative sample.

Second note: I took a ridiculously long time on Preview annotating this picture (twice), but both times Preview crashed when I hit save. Sorry for the lack of labeling.

Conclusion: I need to carry less stuff.

home

"Home" may be my very favorite word.

guuu-uuuuys

Dear Friends,

Please imagine the above post title spoken in an extreme whine.

But seriously... Guys (and, in the vernacular, gals)? Can we talk frankly for a minute? Here's the thing - I'm worried I'm not up for this. Graduate school, I mean. It's not that I don't want to do it; I simply wonder if I'm up for it. Every class I feel blown out of the water by the sheer depressing intellect of my fellow students. The level of conversation is - not beyond me, quite, but much faster than me. I keep up, but not immediately. Does that make sense? By the time I've processed something someone has said and formulated a response the discussion has already veered off in a different direction. When I do speak I usually feel shot down - never unkindly, but shot down nonetheless. I spend a long time crafting written responses to readings only to feel after I've posted them that they're childish.

I have never felt this way before in my entire academic career and it's scaring me.

Anyway, I'm sorry. I promise not to make this blog into a LiveJournal (why is it that LiveJournal is synonymous with awkward emotional sharing, anyway? Is it because that's what we all did in college? Or was that just me?). I just needed to express some anxiety before going to bed. I hope you're well, wherever you are.* I miss you, friends.

Love,

Haylie

*Maybe especially Mr. Chris who is just starting grad school in Corvallis. Let this be a cautionary tale, young man.**

**Just kidding. You'll be great, of course. Just like Miss Amanda.

as heard in the library

The study rooms at the Gelman Library are supposed to be silent, and as far as talking goes, they really, really are. So here are some things I can hear instead:

The hissing of the air conditioner, which I would like to throw out the window (because of the cold, not the sound)

The clacking of keyboard keys

A pencil tapping an even rhythm on the table

Pages turning

A sigh and yawn

A quiet murmur of voices from the street, five floors down (although interestingly, no cars)

An airplane

Doors opening

Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you: The Library, by Stomp

some things i'm reading

Marmion by Sir Walter Scott

The Travels of Sir John Mandeville by Who The Frack Knows?

Professing Literature: An Institutional History by Gerald Graff. Don't click to look inside.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. This is not for class.

More interesting posts coming someday! Promise!

missed, among others

lost and found

The best part of my day was when I found two bags of the best tea ever hiding in my backpack.

A not-best (although not worst, sadly) part of my day was when I discovered that all my pens and highlighters have disappeared. Pilfering niece and nephew or a grown-up protecting them from the former? Only time (as in, the time between now and tomorrow, when I get a chance to ask) will tell.

star trek... in the park!

I was going to write about how the loneliness I'm experiencing while I'm here is completely different from any loneliness I've ever experienced before, seeing as how this loneliness stems from a clear and palpable absence (of Ross, friends, and cat). But instead of that, please enjoy these pictures of Star Trek in the Park, which Ross and I very much enjoyed in Portland on August 1st.

Spock looks wise.

This couple's clear enthusiasm for Star Trek is exceeded only by their enthusiasm for Ginger Snaps.

Khan (as in, The Wrath of Khan) has his way with Lieutenant McGivers (the episode was Space Seed, by the way. I highly recommend it for the camp-factor).

Khaaaaaaaaan!!!! (Please note the delighted faces in the crowd)

Til later, Trek-meisters. Live long and prosper.

no, really

not to be cryptic, but...

I need tomorrow to be a significantly better day than today. The. End.

a hippo for hope

I finally got around to downloading my photos tonight, only to realize that I've taken very, very few photos since I've been here. This is just further proof of something I've been suspecting since I got here: I am a completely different person than I was before I got married. I used to be really awesome at doing things alone. Even when I was dating someone, I could still rock the old alone time. I traveled alone, I went to movies alone, and I took a lot of photos alone. And enjoyed it, too; in fact, I'm not even necessarily saying that doing all of those things with a spouse/partner is better than doing them solo. Just that I have apparently lost my capacity.

Anyway, I digress. For your viewing pleasure, here's some proof that I'm actually here:

1. I ran into this big white building one time.

2. It was being guarded (partially, not exclusively, although wouldn't THAT be hilarious) by these nice gentleman and horses, whom I caught in a pleasingly Norman Rockwell-esque moment.

3. And then one time I saw the Washington Monument, which is just as phallic in person as it looks on film.

4. So although GW's official mascot is The Colonials, its unofficial mascot is a hippopotamus because of this statue, which was given to the university as a gift by... someone very important, I'm sure. Legend is that hippos use to frolic in the Potomac, much to the delight of George and Martha Washington, whom you may have heard of.

5. This is the plaque that accompanies the hippo statue. It might also be my new motto. In fact, definitely.

Love and colonial urban legends,

Haylie

P.S. Politics for beauty??