Language
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From time to time (November 2000, November 2004, etc.) I’ll idly think about places I’d be willing to live. I like seasons and Larry despises the heat, so many southern options are out. I find flatness subtly disturbing. Hawaii is pleasingly exotic—the natural features are different enough from the northeast that they register as alien and interesting rather than slightly off and therefore wrong. Manhattan’s great if you’re rich; so, I imagine, is London. Canada’s nice. I like koala bears and other Australian oddities, and the fact that my parents once toyed with the possibility of moving there leave me favorably disposed toward the continent.
One practical element of these idle musings is language. I don’t like the fact that I can only speak one language (aside from horribly rusty tourist French, Sesame Street Spanish, and half a dozen words of Welsh and German). Every so often I vow to rectify this displeasing relic of my U.S. education, but I never get around to it. I can’t imagine wanting to live in a place where English was not the primary language (or one of them).
Some of the things Olen Steinhauer says about the expat lifestyle support that feeling. I already have strong introvert tendencies. Most of my socialization is with a small group of friends. It’s a satisfying situation, but part of that satisfaction is due to the fact that I’m not artificially limited to socializing with those individuals. I could (and do) find other friends, without a care for a language barrier; when I don’t it’s a sign of (uncharitably) laziness or (charitably and, I think, more accurately) my active preference for playing a Ninja Burgers & Superspies RPG tonight rather than venturing forth to seek out new friends.
If I was surrounded primarily by people speaking a different language, I don’t think I’d fare well. I spend enough time in my own head. Not an unhealthy amount of time, at least I don’t think it is; but it’s probably approaching the borderline.
Current temperature in Hell: hovering around 32° F
Filed Under Life
I went to the gym last night.
In college, I worked in the gym for a couple years. Rather, I was paid to sit and do my reading at a desk in the gym. So it’s a bit odd to return for the purpose of exercising. It’s also strange having a Bryn Mawr ID that’s a) not a student ID and b) produced in a manner more sophisticated than placing a picture on a card and running it through a laminating machine.
Larry’s been going to the gym a while—the membership rates for alums and their spouses are low—and now that school’s in session the hours have expanded. I spent twenty minutes on the elliptical and liked it well enough. I want to get into the habit of going two or three times a week; it should be easier to make time for it if we go together and make it an after-work outing.
Mmm…cabbage…
Filed Under Story picks
“Convivium” by Kelli Stanley
The obligatory angsty post (because this is, after all, a blog)
Filed Under Life
Due to an unfortunate convergence of events, I am having a minor existential crisis. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that because of the unfortunate convergence of events I am finding it difficult to ignore my existential crisis.
First is my birthday. This specific birthday is not particularly significant. Thirty-one? That’s not a milestone. Well, okay, maybe I could do a numerological workup that would make it a milestone, but I haven’t. Actually, Larry’s thirtieth birthday was probably the most traumatic; talk about irrational, but there was just something about being married to a thirty-year-old man.
Second is AWA, a central feature of the past week. At an event like that, one cannot help but notice all of the very young people. For many years, I could count on being one of the youngest people in the room; that is no longer the case. I have a co-worker who does not meet the “half plus seven” standard (which is moot, as we’re both married to other people, but it was still a shock when I did the math). People often assume I am younger than is actually the case; I always used to think “I’ll be happy if they’re still doing that many years from now,” but now think “I’ll be happy if they’re doing that a couple years from now” and am not at all annoyed when I am taken for someone in her mid-twenties, or not yet of drinking age.
Third is general malaise relating to career dissatisfaction, the sight of other people doing Creative Things They Love For A Living, the sight of still other people happily embroiled in the pursuit of Graduate Degrees In Fields Of Interest To Them, and the beginning of autumn (even if I couldn’t tell because it was Atlanta). For many years, autumn signaled the start of school, and I have a lingering feeling that something should start at this time of year.
Forth are a bunch of other things that fall under the heading of “personal crap” and feed into the general malaise.
Fifth is Rainbows End. I spent much of the weekend looking askance at con staffers’ bulky walkie-talkies and headsets, and even Bluetooth earpieces. Where are the wearables, dammit, and why should I have to find a laptop to use Google? But then I did the math, compared myself to the fifty-year-old characters, and despaired.
Thus the minor existential crisis that cannot be ignored. I suspect it will pass soon, or at least subside to a level that can be ignored.
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Congratulations, it’s a paperback
Today, Dave White welcomes his 7.5 ounce, 7.8 x 5.1 x 0.6 inch baby into the world.
Thirty-one years ago, my parents welcomed their 6 lbs., 3 ounce daughter into the world. Said daughter wrote this post in advance, because she will be spending a large chunk of today flying. Because spending time in airports is exactly what she wants to do on her birthday.
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“The population of Casterbridge mingled incongruously among Whateleys and Peaslees and the entire Arkham establishment”
Filed Under Story picks
“The Vicar of R’lyeh” by Marc Laidlaw
LOLTHULHU
Filed Under Uncategorized
The name of the site says it all.
We planned that well…
Filed Under Life
It’s gorgeous out. I love autumn. Cool but not cold, bright sun, playful breezes…and tonight we’re getting on a plane to visit Tampa and Atlanta.
We like the folks we’re going to visit. It’s just too bad it wasn’t, oh, February or something.
Never trust anyone wearing green
Filed Under Story picks
“Ivy and Thorn” by Stephanie Burgis
I may have a new knitting project
I never did get back into knitting after I messed up my thumb a couple years ago, and I probably should; I spend too much time at a keyboard not to wonder about carpal tunnel, and knitting supposedly helps fend it off. When I was knitting, I liked mindless projects, like big long scarves. And no, I didn’t do Tom Baker scarves; I did a couple Hogwarts scarves. (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and a half-finished non-Hogwarts brown on brown, for the record.) Plus a few other just-learning projects: misshapen mittens, odd looking hats, and such.
But if I do a Dalek, that means the finished product should look like something. And I’ll actually have to, like, count. It’s a surprisingly intimidating thought (especially considering my old default crafty thing was counted cross-stitch, which has “count” right there in the name). I don’t have to count with the scarves. I just keep knitting in a circle (often in front of the TV) and check when it looks like I’m closing in on twenty rows and have to think about switching colors. Still, I suppose it’s important to broaden one’s horizons.
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