Part One: Felipe the Frozen
A few years ago my grandmother gave me a fish for Christmas, a little turquoise and red beta. He looked very festive, like a fiesta, so I named him Felipe, which was the first festive/fiesta-sounding name that came to mind. I had Felipe for two years, then I went out of town for Christmas, and it got very cold while I was gone. Betas are tropical fish and don’t like the cold. He was dead when I got home....
Part Two: Eliot the Infected
About a month later I bought a new fish, a dark blue one that I named Eliot after one of my favorite poets, T.S. Eliot. I’m not really sure what exactly happened to Eliot, but he got sick. One of his eyes got infected and bubbled up (it was really gross) and then his body took on this really strange contorted shape, like his spine (do fish have spines?) was crooked. He only lasted about a month....
Part Three: Iago the Starved
Fish number three was bright red. I named him Iago…not after the parrot in Disney’s Aladdin, but after the villain in Shakespeare’s Othello. I had Iago for a while, but I went out of town a lot that summer. Before I left for each trip, I dropped a food pellet into the water that was supposed to be enough food for a week, but Iago just didn’t catch on to the whole eating thing....
Part Four: Mr. Darcy the Asphyxiated
Fish number four was another turquoise one I named after my favorite Jane Austen leading man, Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. I was traveling a lot the fall that I had Mr. Darcy, so he was neglected a bit. His bowl didn’t get cleaned out as often as it probably should have. When I finally did clean it, I put too much water in it and there wasn’t enough room between the waterline and the cup holding the ivy that grew in his water. Betas actually need oxygen, and Mr. Darcy didn’t get enough....
Part Five: The Fish With No Name
I bought fish number five last weekend and I'm so happy to say he's still alive. I haven't decided on a name yet, but I’m considering Frankenstein in honor of one of my first graduate classes I’ll be taking in the fall (we'll be studying Mary Shelley, who wrote Frankenstein). I’m also thinking about Cicero or Virgil to commemorate the Latin I’ve been taking this year. I am open to suggestions, though, if anyone has any. Let’s just hope Number Five has more luck than his predecessors.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Livestock
This morning's sermon was about Jesus the Good Shepherd, and of course that meant that comparisons were drawn between sheep and people. I've heard similar sermons before...the ones that go into detail about the idiosyncrasies of sheep, etc., and I have to confess: my mind started wandering. I didn't tune out altogether. I just wandered.
When I was in elementary school, my family lived in a trailor house on some land we rented from our neighbors. They had a lot of sheep, and one cow, and our front yard was separated from the pasture by a flimsy wire fence with barbed wire across the top. Over the years we lived there, my mother came to the conclusion that when a pastor compares people to sheep, it's not a compliment. Sheep are DUMB. And most of the time they were incredibly dull to look at it. They stood around in big clumps and did nothing. My brother and I used to climb over the fence and run around just to stir them up. We thought they needed exercise.
Then there was the cow. Her name was Baby, and she was a big brown cow. She was pretty dull, too, but every now and then she managed to cause some excitement. I remember one night I was in bed and heard something outside my window. I looked out, and there was Baby looking right back at me, her face as close to the window as mine. There were several repeat performances over the years. As often as that cow managed to get loose, they should have named her Houdini.
We lived there until I was 11, when we moved to the house where my parents still live, in a neighborhood that is more suburbia than country. And while I'm definitely a city girl now, there's still a little country girl in me, and I think that some day I'd like to live in the country again. Although, I don't want to own livestock. No matter how often it happens, you never quite grow accustomed to opening your window and finding yourself eye to eye with a big cow.
When I was in elementary school, my family lived in a trailor house on some land we rented from our neighbors. They had a lot of sheep, and one cow, and our front yard was separated from the pasture by a flimsy wire fence with barbed wire across the top. Over the years we lived there, my mother came to the conclusion that when a pastor compares people to sheep, it's not a compliment. Sheep are DUMB. And most of the time they were incredibly dull to look at it. They stood around in big clumps and did nothing. My brother and I used to climb over the fence and run around just to stir them up. We thought they needed exercise.
Then there was the cow. Her name was Baby, and she was a big brown cow. She was pretty dull, too, but every now and then she managed to cause some excitement. I remember one night I was in bed and heard something outside my window. I looked out, and there was Baby looking right back at me, her face as close to the window as mine. There were several repeat performances over the years. As often as that cow managed to get loose, they should have named her Houdini.
We lived there until I was 11, when we moved to the house where my parents still live, in a neighborhood that is more suburbia than country. And while I'm definitely a city girl now, there's still a little country girl in me, and I think that some day I'd like to live in the country again. Although, I don't want to own livestock. No matter how often it happens, you never quite grow accustomed to opening your window and finding yourself eye to eye with a big cow.
Monday, April 11, 2005
Keep Austin Weird
Having lived in Austin for about 9 years now, I've become accustomed to seeing the occasional bizarre sight. Even so, the bizarre never fails to make me shake my head in wonderment.
This morning, as I was driving to work, I saw a man walking down the street wearing a red, ankle-length cape with a hood covering his head and face. If I had been downtown, or even close to Concordia, I don't think I would have even noticed, but this was in North Austin near my apartment complex, which is a fairly normal community.
A couple weeks ago as I was driving home, I saw a line of vacuum cleaners in the front yard of a duplex. There were about eight of them standing in a straight line in a meticulously mown lawn.
I think my favorite, though, is something I saw several years ago. It was dusk, and I passed a man standing on a street corner in true Superman stance...feet shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips, chin raised as he surveyed all of 51st Street. He was wearing sweat pants, with a pair of denim cut-offs--very short denim cut-offs--on top, and a t-shirt of some sort. The crowning glory was his cape...a blanket tied around his neck like little kids do.
I love Austin!
This morning, as I was driving to work, I saw a man walking down the street wearing a red, ankle-length cape with a hood covering his head and face. If I had been downtown, or even close to Concordia, I don't think I would have even noticed, but this was in North Austin near my apartment complex, which is a fairly normal community.
A couple weeks ago as I was driving home, I saw a line of vacuum cleaners in the front yard of a duplex. There were about eight of them standing in a straight line in a meticulously mown lawn.
I think my favorite, though, is something I saw several years ago. It was dusk, and I passed a man standing on a street corner in true Superman stance...feet shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips, chin raised as he surveyed all of 51st Street. He was wearing sweat pants, with a pair of denim cut-offs--very short denim cut-offs--on top, and a t-shirt of some sort. The crowning glory was his cape...a blanket tied around his neck like little kids do.
I love Austin!
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Go Bobcats
This weekend it has become very real to me that in a matter of months I'm going to be back in school. At a big school.
I took Friday off and drove down to San Marcos to take a look at Texas State. In the small section of campus that I walked through I probably saw more people than I see any given day at Concordia. It took longer for me to walk from the building where the English department is to the building where the graduate school offices are than it takes to walk from one end of Concordia to the other. And that was only one small part of campus.
I met with my advisor and got a ton of information about the program, including information on how to do a thesis proposal and a sample of the comprehensive exam I'll have to take during my final semester. I thought it was a little early to be getting such information since I haven't even started yet but at least I know what I'm in for.... I did get information on the classes being offered this fall. There are several of them that look interesting, but I only have time to take two. And of those two, one is required, so I really only get to pick one. So...do I want to take a class in Irish Comic Writers, Southern Poetry, the Renaissance Epic, American Autobiographies (which actually looks so much more interesting than it sounds), or the Romantic Movement, focusing on Byron, Keats, and the Shelleys? I know, most of these sound horribly dull to most of you, but I'm an English geek. They all sound fun to me!! I have until next Monday to decide.
After meeting my advisor, I walked to the graduate school offices to turn in some paper work. They were pretty much useless. I asked about getting a parking permit, an ID, and computer access. I can't do that until after I register. I asked how soon after registering do I have to pay tuition. They didn't know. I asked who did. They didn't know that either. ?!?!?!? I'd really like to talk to someone who has the equivalent of my job, but I don't think there is such a person in the graduate school. The only useful thing they told me was that I'd hear about the scholarships I applied for sometime in April or May.
I was very proud of myself that I was able to find my car again, and I even managed to find the way out of campus. No small feat...I think that place is a maze.
I did learn one really useful thing--I may be able to finish this degree within two years. I'm giving myself three, but two would be really nice.
Some other notes:
I got my financial aid package on Saturday. A huge chunk of it was a loan, but at least now I don't have to worry about how I'm going to pay for this degree.
This morning I got to church at 9:30 and was so proud because I was on time for Bible study. As I was walking down the hall, the bell rang, signalling that class was over. It was actually 10:30. I had no idea that the time changed this morning.
My pastor and his wife have decided to play matchmaker. They're not very subtle.
I took Friday off and drove down to San Marcos to take a look at Texas State. In the small section of campus that I walked through I probably saw more people than I see any given day at Concordia. It took longer for me to walk from the building where the English department is to the building where the graduate school offices are than it takes to walk from one end of Concordia to the other. And that was only one small part of campus.
I met with my advisor and got a ton of information about the program, including information on how to do a thesis proposal and a sample of the comprehensive exam I'll have to take during my final semester. I thought it was a little early to be getting such information since I haven't even started yet but at least I know what I'm in for.... I did get information on the classes being offered this fall. There are several of them that look interesting, but I only have time to take two. And of those two, one is required, so I really only get to pick one. So...do I want to take a class in Irish Comic Writers, Southern Poetry, the Renaissance Epic, American Autobiographies (which actually looks so much more interesting than it sounds), or the Romantic Movement, focusing on Byron, Keats, and the Shelleys? I know, most of these sound horribly dull to most of you, but I'm an English geek. They all sound fun to me!! I have until next Monday to decide.
After meeting my advisor, I walked to the graduate school offices to turn in some paper work. They were pretty much useless. I asked about getting a parking permit, an ID, and computer access. I can't do that until after I register. I asked how soon after registering do I have to pay tuition. They didn't know. I asked who did. They didn't know that either. ?!?!?!? I'd really like to talk to someone who has the equivalent of my job, but I don't think there is such a person in the graduate school. The only useful thing they told me was that I'd hear about the scholarships I applied for sometime in April or May.
I was very proud of myself that I was able to find my car again, and I even managed to find the way out of campus. No small feat...I think that place is a maze.
I did learn one really useful thing--I may be able to finish this degree within two years. I'm giving myself three, but two would be really nice.
Some other notes:
I got my financial aid package on Saturday. A huge chunk of it was a loan, but at least now I don't have to worry about how I'm going to pay for this degree.
This morning I got to church at 9:30 and was so proud because I was on time for Bible study. As I was walking down the hall, the bell rang, signalling that class was over. It was actually 10:30. I had no idea that the time changed this morning.
My pastor and his wife have decided to play matchmaker. They're not very subtle.
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