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Lenise
22 April 2009 @ 04:26 pm
 You know, if my state were personified like the nations in Hetalia, Wyoming would be bipolar like whoa.  It's 70 degrees out, the grass is green and there's no wind.  Two days ago there was two feet of snow on the ground and both interstates were closed because of blizzard conditions.

She's also probably own two dogs (Cassidy and Cheney.  Cheney is a terrible hunting dog) and a horse (Tom Horn).  And she'd probably hate Colorado.

...I need to stop right there or Wyoming is going to eat my brain.  I was only going to mention the weather, and I have a ton of homework and cannot develop this.


her name would be Esther Ross.

 
 
Lenise
26 March 2009 @ 03:31 am
 It's three-thirty in the morning.  It's THREE-THIRTY in the MORNING. I am STILL AWAKE.

I blame Nathaniel.

My brother gave me a neat tea infuser for my birthday, something I had requested.  He also gave me a tea sampler.  All of it was green tea.  So when I made a vaguely oriental dinner (okay it was oriental chicken wings and rice) I decided at the last moment to forgo the decaf black tea I normally drink for a bit of green.  It was about 6:30.  I had ONE CUP.

And now I'm awake at three thirty-three in the blasted morning.  I HATE MY LIFE.
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Lenise
22 March 2009 @ 08:21 am
\o/  
 I'm 20 now.  Doesn't feel that much different, but I guess I'm officially a "young adult" instead of a teenager.  You know what stinks, though?  Next St. Patrick's Day, I will be five days from my 21st birthday.  I did not realize this until recently.
Ah, well.  I'm sure I can get my older brother to pick something up for me.

I have to work today.  I'm going to be late to my own party, too.  (my dad made Dutch apple pie!  the kind that's five inches high and stuffed solid with apples \o/ )  But I really do need the hours.
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Lenise
Today I did something different.  I got up, showered, and went to Sunday service.

I haven't been to church regularly since I turned 18 because I didn't agree with the church my family attended and I wasn't very motivated to find a new one.  I usually work on Sundays, so it wasn't really an issue.  Lately, though, I've been thinking of going back if I can find a church that is sufficiently open-minded.

I tried the only liberal religious organization in my town, a Universal Unitarian.  The service itself was very interesting, but that's not the reason I'm glad I went.

After the service was over, I stayed for the cookies-and-coffee social gathering.  One of the first people who spoke to me was an elderly lady named Maya.

Maya has a very strong accent, and when I tentatively asked when it was from we got into a long discussion.  Maya lived in Latvia in the 1930s, and she has very strong memories about the advance of Communism.  Her Grandfather was an Eastern Orthodox Priest, and he was sent to a concentration camp especially for priests and ministers.  He died there, and they were informed by one of the other prisoners, who wrote to them on a scrap of wallpaper he'd ripped off because they had no paper.  Her Grandmother was taken out in the front yard and shot because she asked what the officers had meant when they walked into her kitchen and demanded breakfast (it was five in the morning, and the bread hadn't yet risen).

She told me about how they fled Latvia to Germany, and then the United States.  She worked as a maid, then went to school and became a nurse.

After we finished talking, I walked her to her car, and on the way we passed a small flower patch the church cares for.  The weather has been unusually warm, so there were just a few bits of green poking out of the pile of grass and leaves.  There were also a few small white blossoms.  Maya told me that she helps tend to it, despite the fact that she uses two canes to walk.

Bending, she picked one of the white blossoms and snapped it off, handing it to me.  She thanked me for listening to her story.

The bloom's in a cup on my desk now.  I'm going to press it in a book.

It's one thing to read about things in a book, but there's such a huge difference when you're hearing it directly from a person who experienced it.  I'm so honored that she let me listen.

I think I'll go back next week.
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Current Mood: thoughtfulthoughtful
 
 
 
Lenise
08 February 2009 @ 09:13 pm
I found this on /cm/--pickup lines for Lelouch.  This one stood out.

"I like my men like my governments- superficially calm with a ruthless and authoritarian inside, and a side of vigilante social-terrorism"

Just felt the need to share...

 
 
Lenise
07 February 2009 @ 11:27 am
The boogeyman, global thermonuclear war, being forced to eat broccoli—there's a lot to be afraid of when you're a kid. What was your biggest childhood fear?
I was scared of monsters.  I had a very sheltered childhood, though (scariest thing I watched was The Twilight Zone), so I made up my own, and there were rituals I needed to do to protect myself..  There was the ghost of a murdered girl hovering outside the windows, so I had to close all of the blinds before dark.  Porcelain dolls had to be turned to face the fall or they would come to life.  And there was a skeleton living in the toilet.  It would come out after I flushed. To get away, I had to wash my hands, then flush, then run and get through two rooms before the sound stopped.

I really have to wonder about what my parents thought about me dashing out of the bathroom at full speed every time I used it for four years.  :-/
 
 
Lenise
29 January 2009 @ 09:49 pm

 I'm taking an introductory course to Shakespeare this semester, and I think it'll be fun.  I know the teacher, I've had him before and he's neat.  Plus, I have a friend in there, and that makes it the one class I have with a built-in study buddy. There're also just eight students, so the discussions should be pretty good.

But there's this girl.  She apparently grew up in England (I don't know if she's an exchange student, an army brat, or just moved.  Either way England to Wyoming is a big jump).  That's neat!  I've always wanted to go there, and she comes in with a much different perspective than the rest of us.

There's just one little hitch--she's really elitist.  In the first class, she said that people who have trouble with Shakespeare are "stupid" because "It's so easy, you twit" (to a member of the class).   And apparently, American English is inferior to British English.  Because, y'know, there's only one valid way to say anything.  And Shakespeare must never be changed or adapted in any form because it's SACRILEDGE and how DARE YOU BUILD ON THE WORK OF THE BARD.  By which I mean she has insisted that the only place to see Shakespeare is the Globe, props should be minimal if present, and any change to the setting or cutting of lines for a theatre or movie production should get the director shot (Quote "I want to shoot them [when they do that].")

She has also used the phrase "Stupid Americans" several times.  Not in reference to specific people, either.

So I sort of hate her. Being from England does not make her Shakespeare's avatar, nor does it mean that she has a sekrit, special understanding of the material.

She and I spent the entire class smiling politely and saying things like "Well, I can see your point, but... (it's full of crap and this is why)."

It's going to be an interesting semester.  And we aren't even reading the plays yet.

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Lenise
26 January 2009 @ 07:35 pm
 I feel so stupid right now.  

I've had a headache all day.  This isn't anything really unusual, except that I actually got plenty of sleep last night.  I went through my activities for the day: school, lunch with Hannah, a quick walk, studying at the library, but the headache just got worse.  Eventually it got so bad that I wasn't able to concentrate on the page in front of me, so I gave up and went home, hoping that I could lie down for a bit and then feel better.

That's when I realized.  I had a headache because I hadn't had anything to drink all day. WTF, self? I was up for nearly nine hours and I didn't take three seconds to sip from the water fountain?

Four cups of tea later, my headache's much better and I finished my homework.

The stupid remains.
 
 
Lenise
13 January 2009 @ 08:24 am
 Working in the cafe is the best job I've had.  I'm good at it, my coworkers are great, and it's not hard.  Plus, at the end of the day I get to go home and smell like coffee instead of french fries or tacos.  But what I like best is the magical apron.

People never, never, go to a cafe to talk about how nice the weather is or how much they love their job.  No, people go to the cafe to talk about serious business.

The apron? I love it because it makes me almost invisible.  Which means that I hear all sorts of things.  It works even better if I'm holding a broom.

One day when I needed to wipe down some tables and change the trashes, one man's friend was trying to convince him to come out to his parents, the group of ladies at the front had a woman whose fiance had cheated on her with her sister, and the couple + man with Bible were doing a marriage counseling session right there.

Last night was much the same.  One of the two women in the corner was worried that she was pregnant and her unit might be deploying soon.  The two teenaged girls in the corner were talking about semester finals and how one of the girl's cousins was caught cheating on his last year.  There was another group of teenaged boys, but they were just talking about video games.  The last couple was talking about Gaza and how he "will always support Isreal.  They're God's people and I dare not go against them."

I don't think I'm doing anything wrong by listening in.  They're talking in public, and I don't go out of my way to find out who they are.  If I recognize them, I don't tell anyone about who they were.  And I think it helps widen my views on people.  That girl with the nasally voice who wants a grande half soy half non-fat hazelnut white chocolate latte heated to exactly 155 degrees with an extra shot and make it decaf please and with caramel syrup on top but under the whip cream--she might just be in the middle of a hard time, and that means that I'm extra nice even if she stands at the end of the counter and taps her foot at me for the two minutes it takes me to make her drink.

I think everyone should just listen in on conversations around them.  Everyone's always talking and talking, but there are so many people that don't listen.  It might not be anything profound, but then again, it might be.  The apron (or any sort of uniform, really) helps because people don't pay as much attention, but it's not necessary.  Listening to people reminds me that there's a much bigger world out there.  And maybe someday I can do something to help.

For now I'll make coffee, hand you your cookie, I'll wipe off your table, and sweep your crumbs off the floor.  But I'll listen, too.  I'll never know what I'll hear.
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