last stretch

So I'm into my last semester of my library and information science degree. I cannot tell you how glad I am to Git-R-Done. I was so enthusiastic at the beginning (3 years ago), but that is long past. Now my enthusiasm is for finishing. My mother is astonished that I don't care about attending my graduation. But, I'm just done. Don't make me go to campus one more time. Don't make me wear that hat and wait for hours while the trillion other people graduating in my program receive their diploma. This will be my 3rd university degree, after all. I think I'll go the beach instead.

(yes I know I'm so conceited now aren't I)

By the way this is my new fav song. It has an awesome cello part!

kitchen staples

There are staples that belong in the kitchen, and then there are staples that do not! I have just made possibly the most frightfully stupid and brainless mistake known to my short career as a slovenly housewife.

It went like this. I was making dinner all normal-like.

(all normal-like, for those of you who may be wondering, is the same as saying in-a-normal-fashion.)

(in-a-normal-fashion means not being crazy)

(and crazy means crazy)

So I went to open a newly purchased packet of dried sage. It was in a plastic bag with the paper label stapled over the opening. I pulled out the two staples and left them on the counter while I measured out the sage for the soup. Then I used an elastic to wrap up the label and the bag and put it away. And then, naturally, I threw the staples away.

OR SO I THOUGHT!!!

Toward the end of the meal, DH found a staple in his soup. No--not even that! He found a staple in his mouth of food! ACK! I nearly expired on the spot. I tried to remember what I did with the staples. I threw them away, didn't I? But it was undeniably, a staple. There are no other staples in my kitchen. I must have put them in the soup! Which means there is one more staple hiding in the soup. What if he'd choked on it and died? It is a horrible thought. What if I swallowed a staple and didn't realize it? Is that possible?

Lesson #1. NEVER PUT STAPLES IN SOUP

Lesson #2. ALWAYS THROW THEM IN THE TRASH

Lesson #3. DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME

While transferring the leftover soup to a storage container, I was extremely pleased to discover the second staple. PHEW! Now we will still eat the rest of the soup (which was quite tasty otherwise) very very carefully, but without quite as much worry! Feel free to laugh. I give you leave. I have proven my slovenly housewifeness beyond the shadow of any doubt, if there ever was one.

2 haiku

So I like to write silly poetry. It is a silly thing. I mostly like to write them to other people. I was often tempted to write little poems on my homework during grad school to provide entertainment for the T.A.s, or maybe to apologize for the agony of looking at my work. I feel confidence that there was agony. On both sides.

But the latest poem I wrote was while I was tutoring a friend (in math). She wrinkled her nose at the first one, but liked the second one. I think the first one is pretty awesome though. For sure. So here they are. My two haiku. For you all.

1)

my calculator

makes my heart beat super fast

when I press the keys

2)

flower in my heart

guarded tightly in my soul

blooms when I'm with you

PS. I looked up haiku just now and it is just like celery. Singular and plural forms are the same! Also, I must give credit where credit is due. DH wrote the second line of the second haiku.

The Anthropologie Super-Villains

I, like many Palo Alto girls, adore Anthropologie. There is one located within the city. It has a sales rack. Once I went in and there was a super-sale rack! For 4 months I lived not 4 blocks away from the store. Anthropologie is on the corner of Addison and Alma streets. So poetic.

And I, also like many Palo Alto girls, can't afford to shop there. Alas. I do own 3 articles of clothing that came from that store. Also, a few kitchen items and some place mats. Some were wedding gifts, some sale items, some super-sale items.

I also receive the catalog. It is very entertaining. So much so, that I was stuck with the desire to tell a story using the pages of the catalog. This would not be possible with just any clothing catalog. All catalogs have pictures of models wearing the clothing. Anthropologie goes beyond that and sets up a background for the models as well. Each picture could be a story...

The images here were taken from the online March 2011 catalog.

Preface:

Here begins the serial story of the Anthropologie Super-Villains. These stories are written at lightening speed with zero forethought, preparation, research or skill. As such, they will likely be ridiculous, confusing, inconsistent, and possibly irritating. BUT, the idea of annotating the Anthropologie catalog seems vastly entertaining and so I will do it anyway.

The Anthropologie Super-Villains

by lrh

It all started one bright summer morning when Sasha the head sorceress walked into her tower-cottage with antique furnishings. She was returning early from her daily walk in the woods because she'd forgotten to feed her favorite pet mouse, Saruman the White.

Saruman the White was nowhere to be found because somehow the front doors to her cottage had been thrown open in the short time she had been gone. Sasha was surprised but by no means daunted. She was wearing her special necklace that day, and the white beads gave her special psionic powers that allowed her to communicate with animals.

Sasha closed her eyes and was preparing

to channel the energy of the beads when she heard someone turn on the faucet in the kitchen. She rushed in to see her twin sister Trista holding a cup of spiced tea. The aroma was strong enough she could recognize it from across

the room.

Sasha spoke hurriedly, "Were you successful? Did you find the cave where we stayed last Autumn?"

"I thought I could see it from afar off but as I got closer I grew distracted and somehow wandered into a yarrow patch shaped like a designer hand bag."

"Yarrow? Did you not wear the protection head dress I fashioned for you?"

Trista looked embarrassed but confessed, "It didn't match the rest of my ensemble. I truly thought it would be alright since I'd seen it from a distance."

Sasha looked irritated. "Well, the cave must be concealed by a spell of some sort. Is there any tea left?"

Trista looked into the earthenware pot shaped like an elephant and discovered she had used the last of the tea leaves. "Well, no there isn't."

"Nevermind, I need to go back outside and look for Saruman. We can gather herbs as we look." Sasha turned and walked back to the door. Trista had just caught up when Sasha turned to her and asked, "Did you see him at all when you came in? He must have gone out when you left the door open."

Trista looked up quickly and replied, "No, the door was wide open when I arrived. I thought you'd left it that way."

Sasha looked thoughtful for a moment and shook her head. "I always close it when I leave. What if Saruman was kidnapped! I could never live with myself if he ended up in the wrong hands. He is a special mouse, after all."

Walking out of the tower-cottage, Sasha felt her skin grow cool, as thought she'd walked into a shadow. She looked up to see the sun was blocked by a giant bird descending rapidly toward the landing strip in her front garden.

Looking over at Trista, she said, "Don't worry, it's only Socrates with my new organic place mat."

-----

To Be Continued...