I am in my sweatpants. I had the most delicious dinner of Bilinski’s spinach and garlic chicken sausage sautéed with saurkraut, eaten with freshly baked ciabatta (which I brought home and put in my over to pretend that I had freshly baked it) and tea. Of course tea. This is the land of perpetual tea. (Incidentally I suddenly realize that I like the name Perpetua and wonder if I could get away with using it on a child, maybe as a middle name? anyone want to make me a godmother??) Now I am going to finish the book I have been reading for two months. It’s amazing it’s taken so long, but there’s been Buffy and grading and this book just goes on and ON, so much first person narrator talking and trying to figure stuff out and I thought I was getting really irritated at that, but then I realized I really like the processing-on-paper feel and one of the things the main character is trying to do is learn to talk to dragons. Here’s a piece of the processing that I really like because it expresses the absolute craziness of language and communication and trying to learn anything (language or not):

“You don’t have the smiling, nodding, pointing to your chest and saying your name option with dragons. Nor can you point to another object and say “rock” and wait to see what they say. They won’t say anything. If you’ve been pointing at a rock and saying “rock” for the last six months, however, if you’ve been working at it really hard, you may have begun to wonder why after you say “rock” you very often get a kind of heavy sensation in the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet* (and furthermore it seems a bit diagonal. Right hand, left foot. Left hand, right foot.) Although the first elation (supposing you manage to be elated through the confusion**) drains away real fast as you start to wonder if they’re talking about a kind of rock, a size of rock, a shape of rock, a color of rock, weight of rock, age of rock, even a hardness of rock, or a kind/size/shape/color/weight/age/hardness of anything, or maybe it’s about something else entirely (Where it came from? How it was created? Or if it’s a big rock, which way its shadow falls as the sun rises up over it and goes down the other side, and no I am not joking) and maybe it’s not “rock” at all, but “thing pointed at” or “humans sure are into rocks, I wonder what that’s about?”“

—from Dragonhaven, by Robin McKinley

*Dragons don’t communicate with talking, see.

**I especially identify with this idea.

I feel like so much of my life, lately, is about things being too big for them to fit into my head. And that’s essentially what this book is going on and on about, and why it’s going on and on, because it’s trying to explain something too big (even if it’s sort of an imaginary something, as much as anything is ever imaginary). And I can relate! I have pages of myself going on and on in my poor neglected notebooks that I stopped writing in when my head stopped wanting to process any of the bigness. And I’ve just been realizing lately that it’s not just linguistics. It’s everything. Somehow getting into the big sea of knowledge that is grad school made me realize that this sea of knowledge isn’t just here, it’s everywhere and you can’t get away from it. So you either wear yourself out processing all the time or you shut yourself away. I’m not sure if there’s another option. And I’m really not sure which of those I’m doing now, but I do feel pretty worn out all the time, so hopefully I’m processing something.

I’ve been reading policy papers. So many. And I’ve really been thinking about them. I wish I read everything like I read these papers–reading, thinking, making notes. The whole policy structure is really interesting and far more complicated than these kids realize. I was telling my kids on Friday, the last day of class, about how I feel when I read their papers. Even when I agree with them I feel like I disagree. It’s just that any policy you make has vast repercussions. And so even with something like stricter penalties for steroids in baseball, I’m like ‘eeeeehhh, do you really want to do that? What are the implications of this policy?’ Every policy makes a statement, and the kids acknowledge that, but they don’t take it far enough. They say legalizing euthanasia makes the statement that you should be able to determine when you should die. But . . . man, I don’t even need to say anything to show how that could be a problem. Every policy I read about makes me concerned about the implications it would have if it was enacted.

On this topic–Yesterday I listened to this and this (two episodes from This American Life detailing how we got ourselves into this healthcare crisis. This is just what my mom has been saying my whole life! You have to listen to these!) and then read a student’s paper about how we should have a law to make sure doctors recommend the more expensive and better(?) kind of artery stent to their patients. In other words, don’t let those doctors take cost into consideration, they have to recommend the better procedure because that’s the only ethical thing to do. I almost wrote “I am completely opposed to everything you’re saying here” but I decided it would be better to express that opposition in actually critiquing his argument, instead of in railing against it (“Ira Glass told me about people like you . . .”).

photo from lovelybike.blogspot.com

It’s a KHS Green, the “budget” Dutch-style bicycle. Note the nice loop frame, chain guard, and upright seating position. It’s kind of a Wicked Witch style bike. Sadly, as far as I could tell without seeing one, the bike doesn’t come in my size. I was very disappointed, but the bike store I was going to order it from had a used bike sitting outside. It was a pretty, red 1987 Schwinn World Sport for a nice price (especially considering I had just been considering the $370 KHS Green a cheap bike!). I’ve had the bike for about a month now and I love it. It’s so so much better than my last bike, a rusty Murray Night Rider with bad brakes. I can actually shift gears now! And ride up hills without dying! Here’s the new bike. I’ve named her Clementine.

I got the peach basket from a customer at the Market. It’s kind of an interim basket since it’s too long, it’s not low enough to be comfortable and it kind of looks hobo (although I might like that, I’m not sure).

Here she is without the basket.

Since I got it I’ve put on the rack and some new bar tape.Beautiful bar tape:

Another thing I love about this bike is that the frame is lugged instead of welded.

See that V shaped joint there? Notice the raised area? That’s a lug, one of many on this bike. A stylish way to have strong joints. The lugs on this bike are fairly simple, but some lugs can be really ornate.

I like the two sets of brakes, so I can keep my hands on the middle of the bar (which I’m more comfortable with) or hold on to the curvy part (which looks better, but it makes it harder to shift, probably if I were riding long stretches of road I would use this position more. I’m still getting used to the ram’s-horn handlebars.).

Jaunty little tail light. I love the slimness of roadbikes.

A Trek Allant WSD (women’s specific design)

The problem is, I want a bike I can actually use as transportation and I know that locking a bike like this out of my sight on a regular basis would probably mean it’d be stolen within six months. It looks too nice. I could replace the seat and handlebars and paint it dirty black, but that kind of defeats the point.

But I can’t stop looking at the pretty pretty bicycles. I found this blog tonight:

Bikes For The Rest Of Us

It’s just one beautiful bike after another. There are probably five bikes on the whole site that I wouldn’t want to own.

I also found this site:

Cycle Chic from Copenhagen

It’s a fun look at the cycling girl in Danish culture–more temptation to get a nice bike.

I’m really glad, though, to find so many bike enthusiasts in love with the same kind of bikes I am. Here I’m surrounded by road bike people and, while I appreciate those bikes, they’re not really want I want. It’s good to know that I can still appreciate good bikes and not want that. I’m not stuck with 1950′s Huffies or cruisers with streamers coming out the handlebars. There’s a place for me too! Now I’m inspired to actually learn about good wheels and good gears and all of the elements that make up the vehicle that I desperately need to get by next Friday.

So here’s the path of the palmetto bug, from the chair to the couch to my textbook (eww) and down (and by the way, in case you are wondering how he got from the chair to the couch without going to the ground—he flew):

(on top of the book)

Do you get an idea of the size of this thing?! After the last picture he flew to one of the speakers then tried to crawl across the ottoman. I made an attempt at slapping him with my flip flop but he ran away real quick and I think he’s hiding under the chair now. I hope he just goes back outside where he belongs (yes, thankfully it’s an outdoor bug, but why do they come indoors?!?!). But now we can all be freaked out together. I didn’t know how else to deal with this.

I’m really excited, though. I love this class—teaching students how to express their ideas, equiping them to think critically and communicate articulately. I mean, it’s like taking students and making them real people, in the sense that it’s hard to see someone as a real person if they’re not communicating effectively with you. I want to think of all kinds of good short writing assignments to give as homework. I didn’t give much writing homework last semester and I think the students suffered for it. I want to really know what I want the students to learn and use writing to enforce that. I have about a month before school starts. I’m reading the textbook and jotting down ideas.

I want to teach it as a rhetoric class, not as a composition class. I don’t want it to be just another semester of English comp., you know? I want to ask more of the students. A prof told me last semester that no one really knows what rhetoric is, so you can make it whatever you want it to be. I need to think what I want to focus the class on. A lot of the literature on teaching rhetoric focuses on the idea of liberation, giving a voice to the disadvantaged, whether that be illiterate adults or the homeless, etc. It’s hard for me to relate to that, though, and I think the same is true for most of the students. What about giving a voice to the advantaged? I think back to how I used rhetoric in college, arguing about university policies, writing on the Wittenberg “Floor” about hall nudity and why the guys at Covenant didn’t ask girls out on dates (a post painstakingly composed with a friend over the week of Spring Break and peer reviewed by two unsuspecting male readers we captured during small group, that didn’t, by the way, ever get me any dates). I want to teach my students to write well, whatever they choose to write. If they actually believe something I want them to be able to say why they believe it. Really, I think the most important thing for this generation is the ability to make an argument without making someone else lose the argument. So many of us can make a good argument, but are afraid of doing so because we don’t want to distance another person. We’re about connection and arguments, and “heavy” issues in general, seem to break connection. I want to teach my students, and myself, non-violent rhetoric. Because you can’t be afraid to say things, but you need to learn the right way to say them (and the right way isn’t the watered-down, half ass way you end up saying them if you haven’t really learned how to articulate yourself (and really, that’s what I’m trying to get at, how do you articulate yourself, how to do you say what you really mean to say when language is so strange and twisting? and that’s why it’s good that I’m a linguist and an English major. I have both keys to start trying to figure this mess out.)).

Things at work have been good lately. I love summer, it means tons of free produce! We have all this stuff that’s a little bit off (heirloom tomatoes that are just slightly split, peppers that are kind of wrinkly, CSA stuff that was just never picked up (that’s the best, got some blue potatoes last week!!)) and we have to take it home so it doesn’t go bad! Of course I don’t eat it up fast enough and it goes bad in my fridge, but that just means I am making good use of the compost bucket. Right now I have a couple ears of corn, some peppers, some lemons (those aren’t local!), tomatoes, watermelon. It’s kind of overwhelming.

Here’s a better picture of my garden:

I’ll post something more interesting later. All I’ve been doing lately is working and reading Harry Potter. Which is fun, but not your thrilling fodder for a good blog entry. I do love the sixth Harry Potter book, though!

“Well, we hear that sort of story all the time, ‘Oh this was Merlin’s, this was, his favorite teapot.’”

“Aaah, George, look at this. They’re using knives and everything. Bless them.”

I’m growing lettuce and cilantro right now (the picture’s kind of blurry because it’s almost dark outside and I took it with no flash). They’re really doing quite well. A friend from work gave me the lettuce because it was dying, but it’s coming back to life now and I’m really excited about actually having lettuce that isn’t going bad in my fridge. I’m really bad about eating up the lettuce in time, and the cilantro! making them the obvious choices for my experimental first window garden. Apparently, though, both of them go to seed really fast, so maybe I’ll have something else in there for the late summer/fall.

Last week I was in Ohio for Natalie’s wedding and the first night I was there a bunch of us sat around in the living room talking to Natalie’s uncle about gardening and plants and suchlike. That’s when I learned about the going to seed, and we talked about a lot of other herbs and their growing habits. It was very enlightening and entertaining. When I met him Uncle Paul said he was Natalie’s favorite uncle and, Natalie, he is my favorite, too.

On NPR last week they were talking about professions, can’t remember the context, and they said that landscaping and gardening are generally the most fulfilling of all the professions. So I’m trying.

And speaking of gardening, today I finally got a bucket for my compost! We have a place to put our compost at work now, but for the past week or so I’ve just been taking it in bags a little at a time. Now I finally have something to put it in where I can let it sit and the bugs won’t get at it.

I’m going to try going to yoga class tomorrow morning. It’s at 7:15 and I work at 8:30. We’ll see how that goes.

This one has flowers with it. I like how the flowers add a kind of kitschy-tattoo air to it. And some of them have letters on them! (I like how she matched her tattoo and her shirt, maybe that is the only shirt she wears, ever.)

Then there’s this one which is completely different style–a more dystopic typewriter.  I like the way it seems to be disintegrating, but it also makes me feel kind of depressed.

I like this picture because people taking tattoo pictures together is always happy. It’s like people have found a connection with each other! through art! on their bodies!! I love the letters exploding from the typewriter, which is my favorite kind of typewriter. The writing on the girl on the right is from Sylvia Plath’s poem Lady Lazarus:

In my search I also found this really awesome typewriter picture. This is the one that’s most tempting as a tattoo, only I don’t think I could really do words. I like these words, though because they’re like something I would come up with, I love taking common phrases and replacing one of the words so it means something completely different, but still alludes to the original meaning, you know, things like “marriage, slow and miserable” and “stark, raving naked.”

And whenever I think of typewriters I think of two images. The first one is the one I’ve had on my covblogs blog for about four years now. The second one would also probably make a good tattoo. Great American Novel.

from xkcd.com