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So in theory I love the idea of Thanksgiving. A holiday dedicated to giving thanks! I've got a lot to be thankful for, and I try to remember that, but it's important to have special time set aside to count your blessings.

Or so I'd like to believe. The last few Thanksgivings I've had have been monumentally lame. (For those playing around at home: One black eye, two bruised knuckles, two flooded rooms in my house, one bout of food poisoning (mild), seventeen billion essays to write, harassment of the landlady, AND TODAY IS ONLY FRIDAY.)

In lieu of more whining, here are the two songs I can't stop listening to this week:
The Knux- Bang Bang!
The Knux are... ok, to be quite frank, I am not exactly sure where one draws the line between hip-hop and rap, but I'm pretty sure these guys come down on the hip-hop side. This is my current favorite song to run to.

Florence and the Machine- My Boy Builds Coffins
This is very indy-pop, and I really want it to be a metaphor for something, but I can't for the life of me figure out what for. I like it a lot, because I held great aspirations of becoming a cabinetmaker for a long time. Mmmm, fussy woodworking.
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I checked out five books about baking from the library yesterday.

Sugar overload, here I come.
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As you can probably tell from this blog, writing is something I find immensely, painfully difficult. I recognize and envy all you people who can talk fluently in words, but I am not among you.

This is making my current task of "writing personal statement for medical school" kind of awful. (It was awful last time too, but then I wasn't quite as up against the deadline as I am this time.) My goal is to be done tomorrow, but I could not make myself look at it today.

Instead of writing, I have 1.)baked chocolate-ginger banana bread 2.) made another failed attempt at rye bread 3.) learned to run sound recording equipment 4.) hung lights for a show 5.) read two books of totally mediocre poetry 6.) checked out ambitious books from the library 7.) fantasized about building a house 8.) supported the local culinary arts program 9.) helped a friend edit a paper.

I think I need blinders.
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I can't stop calling my Representatives. It's like a disease. I'm pretty sure this is the fifth time I've called my elected official this month, proving that putting their numbers into my phone was a bad idea.

I totally spent ten minutes explaining why I was displeased that a NM rep voted against HR 3962 and for the Stupak amendment, but I am fairly sure I accomplished my goal of "make sure Teague never takes my phone calls again" without raising my voice, succumbing to insults about parentage, or being rude.
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Here in New Mexico, I'm preparing for a Guy Fawkes day celebration. I'm pretty sure this event is entirely apocryphal, but we're going to roast marshmallows on the exploded bones of Parliament and play cricket, so my complaints are minimal. (For those of you playing along at home, that's three of the things on my critically awesome list: fire, sugar, and ridiculous sporting events.)

Also, destruction of government, because today I'm a little bit furious at America's current struggle with heath insurance reform. Why people can't just do what is obviously correct and just is beyond me.

Anyway. Here is my favorite picture of my Halloween costume. )
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Today at work, a coworker was bragging about her tomato-soup-and-goldfish-cracker lunch. (Fine, she wasn't bragging, but my jealousy was so immense she might as well have been.)

So as soon as I got home- after voting, going on a rambling walk with my mom and reading a list of the thirty stupidest inventions of the Fifties and Sixties- was make myself some cream of tomato soup from my ridiculous overabundance of tomatoes and hand-me-down milk. I failed on just about every level of recipe following, free styling in amounts, ingredients, processing- I ended up with a cream-based but chunky tomato and onion soup, and the only crackers I had on hand were pretzels.

None of that matters, because tomatoes and cream and salt are fantastic, and hurrah for food.
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My mom was in a bike accident yesterday.

She's OK, other than her serious case of road rash along her right side, (and oh, on her poor knuckles) and six stitches in her eyebrow. No car was involved, her bike is whole, and she was wearing a helmet, so. It could have been worse, I guess.

There's nothing like having a member of your family bleeding in the street to give you a little perspective on how your week went.
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A while ago, I posted photos from my vacation with my bestest friend. (I was going to blog about it, but really, other peoples vacations are either super boring, or jealous making. I allow you to make the call.)

The only important take home message is that you absolutely need to go to the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Store. It is a superhero supply store, and it is awesome, and it benefits hilarious children. Honestly, people what more can you ask?

Saturday I took the MCAT. Again. At this moment I am so fucking thrilled to be finished with it, I don't even care how I scored.

I am now super excited to tackle some of the eighteen vitally important art projects I've accumulated. (Updates as warrant.)
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I have been pretty unfuntional for the last month- I keep having to tell people that I am not allowed to have any fun at all until after September twelfth (MCAT D-Day. Ugh.) and no, please don't ask me to do anything even remotely interesting, because I am trying to cram my head full of physics equations, and arguing with test question explanations about how their answer is stupid and also dumb, and mine makes more sense, and why are they so JERKFACEY.

This morning, Max emailed me a link to Hello from Earth, a collection of messages that the Australian government transmitted to a potentially earth-like planet.

I forget, sometimes, how goofy we are as a species. Oh, humanity.
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I think it important to preface this by saying: I like bugs. I mean, I'm not crazy about mosquitos, because I am the proverbial sangre dulce and while ants are totally fascinating, I prefer them to not be the horrible biting kind. I have a handful of super awesome facts about cockroaches, and for a week there, I had a collection of vinegeroons.


Oh, it's on universe, it's ON.
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One of the things you may not know about me is that I'm wildly nerdy about typography. (Wildly nerdy was a given, folks.) I care passionately about kerning, I make dumb type-related jokes, I take photos of store signs that use interesting fonts. I collect fonts. I've actually paid for fonts which- considering how many free fonts there are, and how much work I do with type- is ridiculous. I care about the difference between a dash and an em-dash.

It's ok if you judge me a little. I sometimes worry myself.

So I've been thinking lately, that I'd like to collect something. I am an adult, and many cool adults I know have interesting collections. I thought, for a while, about collecting ampersands. Because: 10 it is a fun word to say, and this matters. 2) I could start my collection with this 3) The next piece in my collection could be this which is both and ampersand and also LIGHTS UP, which I find hilarious.

Then I totally stalled out, because, dude. There aren't that many ampersands out there, and a photo collection just isn't tangible enough. Also: they're kind of trendy right now, which gives me a knee-jerk "back away! back away!" vibe.

But today, I realized what I'm going to collect, and it's going to be EXCELLENT. I just wish I hadn't lost my file of useful quotations.
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I would first like to begin by saying that watching this video will make you smile. I promise. HERE This is hands down the best promo for a tv-show I have no intention of watching, EVER.

Then I would like to say that my sister is awesome. I went to Colorado last weekend to visit her, and she is a raft guide. I mean. She could probably bench press my car, and she had a tan like whoah. Also, she has developed the drill sergeant's bellow and overall, is just entirely impressive.

I looked into guiding pretty seriously- the year there was a terrible drought along the Arkansas, and nobody was hiring- and I never really got back to it. I'm really glad she's doing it for me though, so I can enjoy the benefits, without actually having to live in a tent surrounded by raft guides. (In my experience, there are no heavier drinkers than guides. I'm not really sure how that works, but there you go.)

In other news, I taught two summer camps for Explora. Mostly, I am glad they are over, because they were unbelievably exhausting. But we built giant shapes out of cardboard boxes, and pyramids, and skeletons, and measured the number of calories in a marshmallow, and only a few kids cried. I call it an overall success.

Now, I am in hard-core studying for the MCAT mode (yes, AGAIN.) It's going to be good for me in the long run, but in the short term, twenty pages of physics instruction every day is too much to credibly handle.
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My house is full of these gigantic moths. I looked for an egg case or a former cocoon but my understanding of moth biology is weak at best, and I didn't find anything near big enough to contain the fifteen I've shooed outside in the last twenty four hours.

Yesterday, I ran a yellow light directly in front of a cop. He didn't blink. Three weeks ago, I was pulled over because my tail light wasn't red enough. Oh, Albuquerque.

I didn't get into medical school. I'm forty-seventh on the alternate list, and there are fourteen open spots. It's not going to happen this year.

I have been shockingly ok with this. I honestly expected to cry a little. But no. I'm choosing to see this as "I'm the top thirty they didn't pick!" I have an exit interview with the dean of admissions next Wednesday to see what I could do better.

Next year.
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Hilariously enough, I can sum up the past two weeks of my life with a youtube music video.

I have, in fact, been singing this song while cutting paper. (I however, am not dexterous enough with a pair of scissors, and did all my paper cutting with a very sharp exacto knife.)

I did mention that Terra should not read this, right? Explanation, and photos behind the cut. )
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I somehow always manage to forget that acrylic and watercolor are not the same thing. One is made of plastic, the other is not! One slidingly glides across my paper, the other does not! One you can water down to good effect, the other you can not!

Although, when you get right down to the heart of the matter- one I know how to use, and the other I do not. Stupid plastic-based-unsloppy-non-dilutable acrylic.
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Today I learned two very important things: the definition of prestidigitation, and that swimming lessons for 1-4 year-olds prevent drowning. The first is slight of hand, the second seems like common sense, but well done on that reporting NYT!

The first two shows of Raindance are over. No one forgot lines, the claps of thunder went off in all the right places, my accent got compliments, and my victory rolled hair stayed victorious. I'm going to call it an unqualified success- two down, seven to go.

I have the next two days off work and this is wildly exciting. I will probably pay off my library fine, and also do my taxes! (Being a grown-up seemingly does not get less lame.)

This is currently my favorite poem, though it is not so much a "poem" as found text edited for hilarity. I still love it.
Entry Forbidden [Selections from the International Mail Manual, 'Country Conditions for Mailing,' May 2005, U.S. Postal Service] )
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Explora's spring production opens Saturday. If you have been missing some angst about what-have-we-wrought-agh-atomic-energy! this is very much the show for you. There will also be a lot of anger, some kissing, and I will be quietly alcoholic for the hour and an a half the play runs.

I actually think it's pretty good.
Dates, in case you're in the neighborhood (4, 4, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 17, 18)

April is National Poetry Month. Sometimes, I like poems. Sometimes, I like Auden. Usually, I like cartoons. WELL DONE TOM GAULD.

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While I generally think that streaming video is the greatest thing to ever come into my media consumption, the movie I am trying to watch right now is stalled, right at the exciting conclusion. Guys, the police, MI5, and the local villains are all converging on Paddington Station, and it's very stressful.

I am watching this movie because I have a great soft spot for heists and capers and this movie- Bank Job- features Zoe and my favorite action hero of all time: the Transporter, plus bonus Mr. Irwin. Films like this do not help me to understand that the United Kingdom is a vast place, because obviously, everyone in the media has worked with everyone else.

Thankfully, this exists to distract me. Because, obviously, obviously there is a flight attendant who gives the intro-speil as a rap. I am now highly tempted to click though on all these related videos.

In other vastly exciting news of my life: I have gone to the grocery store three times this week (spices, milk, fruit; fruit; cereal, fruit, vegetables) and yet, still there are no onions in my house.
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True story: It is always terrible weather on my birthday. This year was a perfect illustration:
Monday, it was seventy degrees.
Thursday, it snowed.
Sunday, it is sixty-five.

Yeah, that's what I thought, universe. That's what I thought.

In other news, I am knitting a pretty excellent sweater.
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Today, I killed a whole ten minutes looking for the Sesame Street theme. (Ten versions! One of which was actually the one I was looking for.) This is not the important part of the story. The important thing is that I came across this gem.

Guys, this pretty much my favorite song the entire time I was in Jamaica. I never really made any effort to find it because I assumed it would be obscure and I am lazy. Of course Elephant Man sings it. OF COURSE.
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