That Was Close

WARNING:

When writing a paper dealing with evangelical movements in the U.S., do not mix up the following terms.

APOCRYPHAL: adj. Of doubtful authenticity; spurious, fictitious, false; fabulous, mythical.

APOCALYPTIC: adj. Of or pertaining to the ‘Revelation’ of St. John; Of the nature of a revelation or disclosure; revelatory, prophetic.

And I always wondered what was wrong with calling those books of the Bible only Catholics use the Apocrypha (the preferred term is Deuterocanonical... and it's fun to say!).

Witnessing

"Witnessing was perhaps the most difficult aspect of the interview situation for me. To open oneself to evangelism is to be willing to offer one's own views for critique by someone who has already judged them to be inadequate. It is to set adside, at least partially, one's own agenda and the all-knowing position of the scholar. In interviewing situations, where I saw myself as primarily a strong, attentive listener, it meant I had to listen even as I was being told, however gently, that I was damned."

-Amy Johnson Frykholm, Rapture Culture: Left Behind in Evangelical America

I'm writing a research paper on the affects of the Left Behind series on mainstream book culture. I'm eternally grateful that people have already written books about it. And even in the writings of a fallen-away evangelical scholar, I can find things, quotes to bring to my ministry team. You just never know where you'll find these things.

A Gentle Nudge - Follow My Lead

My dear mother looked at me last weekend with lifted eyebrows and a small pout. "You never post on your blog anymore."

Who am I to ignore a simple request from the woman who raised me? I'm no barbarian. It just requires a bit of creative time management.

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I've been told countless times in my ballroom dance class that I am a very good lead. Naturally, guys aren't as excited to learn to float, jive, or twirl around a dance floor, even if it means impressing a pretty girl (they clearly don't have their priorities straight). There's something that attracts girls to dancing; partially, I think waltzes and foxtrots make us feel like princesses, cha-cha's and tango's allow us to be sexy but not loose, and swings and polkas just let us have a rip-roarin' good time.

As one might expect, this leads to a imbalance of gender in our dance class - at least 60/40. I myself didn't mind the idea of learning to lead. I think it allows me to be a better follow. I was also confident in my rhythmic and motor abilities to handle both.

Now the girls I dance with as a lead tell me I'm better than most of the guys in the class. I'm flattered really, but my heart falls a little. As much as I like leading, I LOVE dancing with a man who is such a good lead that he can literally make you do anything, even if you don't know the exact steps. Dancing with a man who is in control is a beautiful thing, and it's much more fun.

A good relationship can be described using the metaphor of a ballroom dance. Some women would jump to say that this is an archaic idea; hear me out. There must be power on both sides in order to create tension between the lead and follow. The hand that grips the other's is pushing against their partner's. This creates what our instructor calls the "circle of energy." With this tension of strengths, the lead can push the follow forward, or pull the follow backwards.

The man leads, the woman follows, but the dance doesn't work if either part is weak.

Homework sometimes inspires me

This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond—
Invisible, as Music—
But positive, as Sound—
It beckons, and it baffles—
Philosophy—don't know—
And through a Riddle, at the last—
Sagacity, must go—
To guess it, puzzles scholars—
To gain it, Men have borne
Contempt of Generations
And Crucifixion, shown—
Faith slips—and laughs, and rallies—
Blushes, if any see—
Plucks at a twig of Evidence—
And asks a Vane, the way—
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit—
Strong Hallelujahs roll—
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul—

-Emily Dickinson

I'm sorry this is a complicated poem. I've only begun to understand it after the 5th read through. She writes about the afterlife, what exists after death or beyond this world. She (the speaker, not necessarily Dickinson) is torn between thinking of it in religious terms and in scientific terms. You can see this in the word "Species" in line 2, which can mean scientific classification or the physical properties of the Eucharist (who would have guessed?!). She personifies Faith, saying that it slips, laughs it off, blushes if anyone saw it fall... and then looks to science to direct the way ("Plucks at a twig of Evidence/ And asks a Vane, the way"). However, she concludes the poem with "Narcotics cannot still the Tooth/ That nibbles at the soul", which I read to mean that medicine/science cannot satisfy the longing in our souls for religion to be true.

This is the assignment I'm working on tonight. It's times like these that I am reminded why I am studying what I am.

Never Underestimate My Savior

I'm starting to drag. I rode the wave of grace that flowed through the past two weeks, marvelling at the miracles God can work when you try your hardest, but leave the rest up to Him. Yet now I feel myself being pulled by the undertows of the world. They pull at my whole self; my shoulders sag a little lower, my neck feels like a noodle holding up my head, and my eyelids struggle under the weight of coins placed there by ancient Greeks who have left me for dead.

I only had to worry about things at St. Paul's in the past two weeks, but the reality of being a full-time student has really hit me. It's the second week of class and I'm already behind. I have made a lot of commitments, but there isn't a single one I haven't entered into prayerfully and thoughtfully.

This IS my reality. This IS real life. It doesn't wait until you graduate to find you; we're living life right now. And I do believe I'm living it to its fullest. I might be busy, but I find my quiet time with God in the mornings, and in the moments when I can just sit in silence with good friends. If I didn't have the person of Jesus Christ to lean on, I would be an exhausted, emotionally empty woman.

Don't you ever underestimate my Savior.

Point A to Point B

I was introduced to a new game today. It can only be the brainchild of this information age that we live in, and far too much time on one's hands. I can only imagine it's epic creation, two bored college students who just spent three hours of fascinated clicking.

What, pray, is the name of this momentous, yet enriching, waste of our time, you ask?

Wikipedia racing.

Follow me here. Two or more people on separate computers, preferably with the same internet speed, are given or come up with a random entry on Wikipedia, ex. the Scripps National Spelling Bee. They are then given or come up with a COMPLETELY separate, random entry as their end goal, ex. jade. This works best if you can grab someone walking by and ask them to decide your destination entry. The goal is to get from point A to point B only by clicking on links within each entry. No back buttoning is allowed. The first person to reach point B wins. They then must repeat their trail back to the group.

For example, (I'm not going to link ALL these pages) I started at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. I then clicked on 'New Zealand' and this is how it preceeded from there: Maori, ocean (mythology), Hindu mythology, Shiva, Bronze, Sculpture. I almost had it here; the word JADE appeared in the section on Chinese sculpture, but it wasn't linked, so no go. Then I tried: Ming Dynasty, Porcelain, Quartz, Gold, Jewelry, gemstone... and then I had to admit defeat. I kept hitting dead ends. A smarter (but more improbable) route would have been: Spelling Bee, New Zealand, Maori, Hei-tiki (a kind of necklace), Pounamu, jade.

The most logical connection isn't usually the best path to take in Wikipedia racing. Usually when a connection is too obvious, the word isn't linked in an entry. Also, one must be careful, because entries do exist that have no more links in them. Dead ends. And two entries aren't guaranteed to share a link that goes both ways. Sometimes random clicking proves more profitable than logic.

Now I'm sure that there are some reading this post who are going to try it with roommates the night after you read this. To you I say, "Godspeed."

A Temporary Solution

I descended to a new low yesterday: I wore make-up for no special occasion.

I'm not a big fan of make-up. Even just writing the word seems ridiculous to me. Look at it, it's a hyphenated verb group. You 'make' your face 'up' to be something that isn't its base form. Make-up isn't a mask that hides the real you, that's just overreaction. It can be a very good thing to enhance one's natural beauty, when used in the right hands (don't come near me with that eye shadow, Charo). Make-up is basically a fine product. I just never use it. I rationalize that I would rather not take the time to create a visual image of myself for other people that is ruined if they see me just out of bed. In other words, I would rather be complimented on how nice I look once in a while than have it blaringly obvious when I am not wearing make-up.

But desperate times...

My lovely 20-year old acne has recently gotten so bad that I want to apologize to the people that have to look at it when talking to me. I'm planning on going to the dermatologist when the appointment becomes free in less than a week. Until then, I will be a slave to my liquid foundation.

It was either that, or a face veil.

I'll stick to wooden blocks and soft dolls, thanks

Earlier this month, Dr. Dimitri Christakis, a professor of pediatrics at the University of Washington in Seattle, released a study on the effectiveness of the Baby Einstein videos in promoting learning in infants.

The results were not good for parents looking for some relief when they plop their tiny tot in front of the tv.

Because the videos simply show mesmerizing images (like lava lamps) with classical music but no natural dialogue, the children from 8 to 16 months of age who watch such videos have a lower language acquisition than other children. Dr. Christakis hypothesizes that these babies are not speaking or being spoken to as much, and therefore are deprived of language interaction for an hour to two hours. Reading or singing to the child, or playing games, greatly enhances the child's early language acquisition. The effects don't seem to be permenant, as the older children show normal language levels.

My first reaction: ha! Take that, stupid videos!

While I realize that the Baby Einstein videos give parents a chance to make dinner without worrying about the baby, I personally don't think I could bring myself to show them to my future children. I despise any kind of children's television that doesn't serve a learning purpose. If children must watch tv, they might as well get some kind of learning from it. And shows like Sesame Street (though I don't like what it has become), Veggie Tales, or even Bob the Builder, engage in normal dialogue that does not condescend to what we think is a child's comprehension level. Learning only happens when the human brain is challenged to take the next step, to go beyond what it is already certain is true. Kids won't get smarter if we always talk with them in baby talk.

Besides that, I hate the industry of children's toys nowadays (especially videos). People always laugh when their child gets a great toy, and spends all of Christmas Day playing with the box. Today's toy industry stifles imagination; instead of pretending a refrigerator box is a spaceship, we are offered real plastic spaceships that a kid can sit in (and probably vibrates). Little girls will play with soft dolls and change their cloth diapers - we don't need an electronic doll that simulates actual digestion.

While it may be so much easier to raise a child with all the helpful devices in today's world, I long to return to the days of homemade, simple toys.

The Trick is Getting Back On

Had another bike mishap yesterday. I shy away from saying 'accident'; somehow, knowing you're going to go down in 3 seconds and you can do nothing about it doesn't fit the word 'accident'. 'Accident' seems to imply two parties, or one party (like a car) that receives irreparable damage from the second party (like a brick wall).

Darn, I guess I backed myself into a corner on that one.

It had been raining the night before. The sidewalks were still wet and slippery at 8:30 in the morning. I rode the route I always take to work - up on the sidewalk, across the UW Foundation parking lot, over and down the foot bridge - but I could also feel that my brake pads had finally worn smooth after a year. I made the first turn down the foot bridge with an impending sense of worry. No matter how I pulled on the handle bars, I was clipping along at the same increasing speed. I tried the second, sharper turn, but I knew I was going too fast. I crashed my front tire into the steel mesh of the railing.

Oops.

So there were two parties involved - me and the railing. But I had accepted my fate (of crashing) before it happened. Does that make a difference?

Acceptance turns a cold-blooded murder into a self-sacrifice, after all.

A Really Good Song is Just Like a Really Good Poem

Who Will Guard the Door
written and sung by Over the Rhine

You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake

You were the story I tried to tell
You were the savior that tripped and fell
Beautiful dancing infidel

Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping

You were the season that would not change
I often was the same
Then four horseman came and stole my name

Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping

I never saw you fall apart
I never saw you work so hard
Never saw you need no one
I am my father's son

You were the hand that I tried to take
You're the decision that I could not make
You're the religion that I should forsake

Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
Who will guard the door
When I am sleeping
I'm not sleeping

Where the Heart Is

I've been thinking lately about where I want to live as a real adult - one with a steady job, a husband, children. For a while I was convinced that I would be your stereotypical soccer mom from the suburbs. I like the look of suburban living, as it tries to take a compromise between urban and rural. There's only one problem with living in houses that stand 20 feet apart:

There's nowhere you can go to let off a good scream.

I'm finding this problem in Madison right now. Madison has open, uninhabited areas, but if you stand there and scream bloody murder, you better believe someone's going to either come running, or call the police. I grew up on a densely-wooded 2 acres with no sounds of human life, save the highway white-noise. The idea of city living may be attractive, but the density of people has begun to give me body-claustraphobia. If I want to be alone, if I wanted to sit and bawl my eyes out, complete with moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth, there's virtually no where I could go.

I guess I am a country girl at heart.

Yes, I've been neglecting you, blog. I've found someone who makes me feel excited, nervous, and anxious like I've never felt before. I can't wait to see him tonight.

Don't worry: I'm not leaving you for Harry Potter permanently. Just until I finish Deathly Hallows. And until I stop thinking about it. See you next week sometime?

<3
Katie

Proof Hollywood Doesn't Know What It's Doing

This article was mentioned to me a long time ago, when I was studying Milton in class, but I dug it up from the NY Times archives. I can't reprint the article in its entirety without copyright issues, but if you can access the NY Times archives for free (like a UW student through the E-Resource Gateway), search for "Paradise Lost movie".

Quotes from It's God vs. Satan. But What About the Nudity? , March 4, 2007 - By Michael Joseph Gross, separated by quotation marks.

The screenwriters seemed to have some difficulty getting producers on board to fund a film version of John Milton's epic poem, Paradise Lost, about the subsequent falls of Lucifer and mankind. Until one fateful day...

"Mr. Newman, now 39, is an independent producer of medium-size movies with midrange male stars (most recently ''A Man Apart'' with Vin Diesel) who has long dreamed of exploring his boyhood curiosity by making a ''Paradise Lost'' movie. Then, after stumbling upon mention of the poem in a Christian inspirational book called ''Epic: The Story God Is Telling and the Role That Is Yours to Play,'' his dream turned to resolve."

Oh good, at least someone with real power can help us in our cause now! Mr. Gross (the writer) doesn't seem to have much respect for Mr. Diesel, either. I feel bound to point out that Mr. Newman seemed to have skimmed through life with no self-respecting English teacher making him aware of the existence of John Milton UNTIL he read it mentioned - MENTIONED! - in a book by none other than John stinkin' Eldredge. Now, I'm a fan of Eldredge's straight-forward interpretation of becoming the people God calls us to be (see Captivating and The Sacred Romance on Amazon.com). But you should know better than to cite such a book as your inspiration to the New York Times. I don't care who you are.

A chief executive's reaction to the project was, "if you get past the Milton of it all, and think about the greatest war that's ever been fought, the story itself is pretty compelling."

Rip out my heart and stomp on it, why don't you. Don't mess around with my Milton. And if you do, DON'T TITLE YOUR MOVIE AFTER THE POEM. Call it "Angels Throwing Mountains" for all I care, just don't marr and mutilate a classic poem. They proposed later in the article to center the movie around the Angelic-Demonic battle, which only takes up two of the twelve 'chapters' (called books) of Paradise Lost. The Adam and Eve plotline would then be cut to less than half of the movie - though it is the primary plot of the poem.

Still, I know I'm not alone in my fight. Mr. Gross (the writer of the article) is on my side.
"Mr. Newman also knows that some might see this project as a fool's errand. ''It's a 400-some-odd-page poem written in Old English,'' he said, laughing. ''How do you find the movie in that?'' But he speaks of the project with unflagging enthusiasm, though it may seem his passion is more for the idea of the poem than for the poem itself. (It's in blank verse, not Old English.)"

YEAH! Way to take that jab, man! Believe you me, Mr. Newman, you would know if it was in Old English, because you would not be able to read the text on the page. Also, my copy in front of me counts to page 288. What copy are you reading? Large print? With illustrations?

The producers skirted questions about the role of faith in the movie. Not like it's the whole point or anything. But, thankfully for all of us, ""it's a war movie at the end of the day," Mr. Newman said." Oh whew. Dodged a bullet there.

I'm going to leave you with one last gem. I don't actually understand it, so I can't explain it. Maybe you can figure out what this producer was talking about. It may be enough to make Milton not only roll over in his grave, but come bursting to the surface.

"Milton was trying to achieve with 'Paradise Lost' what Scorsese was trying to achieve with Henry Hill in 'Goodfellas.' You can't understand the nature of the fall until you've tasted some of the exhilaration of sin and crime. Scorsese makes you feel the rush of being in the Mafia -- what it's like to be special, get the best table at a restaurant, kill anyone and get away with it. Milton was after something like that, and that's what we're trying to convey."

Underage Giggles

I had an absolutely fantastic weekend. It was simply one of those times, Sunday evening, that I took a deep breath, looked at the cerulean sky, and felt the peace of God that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7).
Tonight, I enjoyed a movie on the Terrace with my roommates. There's nothing quite like a kick-ass, semi-patriotic movie from the 90s to get a large crowd cheering, laughing, and joining together in a slow clap as the alien spacecraft comes crashing to earth (see Independence Day).

Then amplify all these good feelings with a 16 oz. of Leinie's Berry Weiss.

Mmmmmm.

I'm from the Chippewa Valley, so I've got to root for the hometown beer, Leinenkugel's. I used to HATE the taste of beer. I would take a virgin dacquari anyday. Beer was bitter, and left a taste in my mouth that made me want to use a tongue scraper immediately.

I can finally say, after two years at college, I like beer. Granted, I'm still picky about what I drink when I drink once in a blue moon. But that cold cup of Berry Weiss tasted so. good. I've developed the adult-taste-buds that recognize that bitter aftertaste as yeast. Beer reminds me of bread.

Believe you me, it wasn't a coincidence both were around for the Vikings. (A big thanks to Prof. Tim Allen)

Attention Men and Women of the World

Something every guy should know:

Every woman desires (and deserves) to be pursued, to feel wanted. If you like a girl, and kind of think she might sort of like you back, show her that you think she's neat. A fine, upstanding guy who finds the courage to make himself vulnerable to a girl by asking her out is HOT.

Something every girl should know:

Most women of our generation (late teens-early twenties) ask themselves every time they meet a new guy if he's The One. YOU'RE NOT ALONE. It is a habit we have learned from childhood (guys, please don't freak out at this), and we must - MUST - break it. One of the greatest lies we grow up believing is that we're the only one with this hyper-active soul-mate radar. We all do it. And this is what we must fight against.

Fine, I'll dabble in predictions... but only this once!

The New York Times tells me that the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is 24 days away. My friend Maggie might be astonished to know that I have not been keeping a count-down.

I largely haven't given in to speculation, because I don't want to ruin my last chance to be surprised by J.K. Rowling. We all know how we felt at the end of the first book, when you turned the page to the last chapter and were hit with the words:
IT WAS QUIRRELL.
Whoa. I remember my mouth fell open. Or the end of the third book, when all the messy details came pouring out and the light broke through the clouds and there was hope again, if only for a brief moment? I don't want to ruin my chance of getting knocked across the room by Rowling's smash-bang plot twists that you could have seen coming if you payed close enough attention (and you beat yourself up about not seeing it coming for at least a month).

From the New York Times (article by Motoko Rich):

John Granger, a professor of Latin and English at the Valley Forge Military Academy & College in Wayne, Pa., has written two books about the series and edited a third called “Who Killed Albus Dumbledore” that is filled with predictions.

He also runs a discussion group at HogwartsProfessor.com. “I’ve seen really intelligent, really literate women and men discuss these points and provide more than cogent arguments that Snape is X, Y or Z, and they all make sense in terms of all the clues she’s given in the book,” Mr. Granger said. “This has probably been the most fun that intelligent people can have with their clothes on in the 21st century.”

1) That's hilarious. 2)Do people have that much free time on their hands that they write BOOKS about what will no longer need to be speculated on come July 21??? The series will end! The characters that only Rowling knows inside and out will cease to be developed! Fanfictions are fine and dandy, but don't try to make a fantasy book into an alternate reality (or your ONE reality).

While I have to roll my eyes at all the "in-depth" analysis of the Harry Potter books (simply because you cannot analyze Hermione Granger at the same level as Jane Eyre), I must admit that Rowling is a careful plot constructor. She knows the path the story must take, and I also believe that she, as a self-respecting writer, will go where the story is taking her. A good writer knows her characters, and will not force them into the situations that the genre dictates.

All that being said, I will put forth, not predictions, but things I believe to be true about the characters: Snape is not good or evil. Because no real person is (and every good writer knows this). Even Voldemort was once a complex human, though he has been mutilated and distorted, and now cannot see goodness. Snape is still a real person, and I believe he has his own motives, on which I will not even try to speculate. The second point is that I remind readers that Wormtail still owes a life-debt to Harry that needs to be paid. Have you all forgotten this about the 3rd book? Not all the clues lie in the later 2 books. Book 6 had more to do with book 2 than any other. Try to think as Rowling would think: she is more loyal to the truth of her story than to pleasing her fans.

And relax. It's, what, less than a month away?

My Daemon

Remedy is Coming

David Crowder Band has been around for awhile. I only just started buying their CDs and following their excursions. I really do think they're one of the best things I've ever heard in music, let alone Christian worship.

So Katie finally gets on the bandwagon... just in time to anticipate the release of their new album, Remedy (I THINK that's the title). Go to http://www.dcb01.com/remedy/entry.php4 and click on the green cross. Follow along with the interactions, click on anything that can be clicked on, sit back and ponder what they're trying to say (because believe me, DC*B almost always has something up their sleeves). It's probably one of the best times I've had on the internet.

DO IT!!! What else have you got to do, really?

Book Smells

One of the projects I do at work is stamping new books: ink pad, press, stamp, STEENBOCK MEMORIAL LIBRARY. The covers and pages are smooth and cool. The undefiled quality soothes something inside me. Then they always have that great new book smell. Some smell like the high school English textbooks that were brand new my sophomore year - turn to page 614 for (sniiiiiiiiif) the poetry of Emily Dickinson.

There are a few distinctive new-book-smells. As I slid a book entitled "Whole Grains & Health" to the 'stamped' pile, a wave of familiar odor hit me. Something that called up feelings of childhood, and would have brought back images, had I been able to place the scent in my memory. It was a sour kind of smell - one of those, like diesel exhaust, that you secretly love because it's so not-pleasant, it makes you shiver a little. I still haven't been able to place it. One of these days, I'll mosey on over to the new books shelf for another sniff to see if I can't jog my memory.

Think of... the TONY!

I haven't kept up on new musicals during the past year. I never see them, but I like to check in on broadway.com to see what's being performed. You know, so I can seem all cultured and stuff.

The Tony awards were presented last night, with performances from those nominated for Best Musical or Best Musical Revival. I had barely heard of any of them. A new musical, Spring Awakening, swept the board in almost every Musical category.

"Allright, this can't be as good as everyone says it is," I thought. "It's all just hype."

I was blown away by the performance. The songs (they performed a medley of three) were haunting, energetic, and charged with emotion. The story remains in the original 1891 setting in Germany, but the music is pop/rock. It blended so well; the plot is all about teenagers facing the unknown of puberty and adulthood. It may be set more than 100 years ago, but the questions it raises are still prominant today.

Like any good literature, its themes are timeless and its characters are real. It reminds me of RENT, challenging the world of musical theater to take on weighty material and not hide behind bright costumes and tapping showgirls (who are superbly talented in their own right).

Bravo, Spring Awakening. I look forward to seeing you soon.

I am not cold-hearted

There is only one thing that can make me cry in movies: star-crossed lovers. I'm apparently a Romeo-and-Juliet sap. I can only cry when two people are in love, and one of them dies tragically at the end. True, this is slightly different from R&J. I don't think I'd be as sad if they both died.

That's sort of horrible, isn't it?

I just can't stand the thought of being blissfully in love, then having it ripped away. Odd, since I just snort whenever I see R&J. Shakespeare makes it very clear that Romeo and Juliet have puppy love. But even West Side Story, the updated version of R&J? I'm gone. Moulin Rouge, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and a recent movie that I'm obligated not to name.

Trust me, you'll know it if you see it. Beautiful love... snatched away. I sobbed.

"English" is a broad term

I went home this weekend, tagging along with the family to a few graduation parties of kids I knew in high school. The nature of our class was such that the core group of students in the AP classes were also involved in music. Our parents have been a tight bunch most of our 12-year gauntlet through the Altoona School District. All the kids know all the parents, and all the parents dote on all the kids. Let me assure you, a weekend of catching up with them is enough to satiate my appetite for a year.

The number one aspect of my life I had to defend? For some families/friends, it's the 'boyfriend' question. Nope, we're all too polite for that.

"So what are you studying?"
"English."
"Oh, ok. What do you want to do with that? Teach, or..."

And then they trail off because they can't think of anything else I could possibly use my major for. Let me ask you one thing: what can a physics, chemistry, or even biology major do with their major?! Nothing more than an English major can do, so stop thinking that science majors equate with post-graduation jobs!!!

The truth is that an English degree translates to a general 4-year degree. It most likely guarantees that you had a broad college education - which employers usually like. You can work practically anywhere with an English degree.

But that doesn't really matter. All people see just two possibilities: teach or write, and then they don't realize that there is no such thing as a full-time creative writer (save J.K. Rowling). I don't have the passion to exert all my attention on writing at the moment. And part of me feels like I'm selling out with the answer,

"Well, I think I eventually want to teach, either high school or college."

Which I do. However, the adult with whom I'm conversing then gets this satisfied, breathe-easy look on their face. I want to smack them, saying, "I COULD DO WHATEVER I WANTED TO IF I SO DESIRED!"

But that wouldn't go over very well, now would it?

Fave Titles 5/23

Favorite storage book titles for the day:

Cowboy Economics
How to Buy Major Appliances

Wikipedia has failed me

Last week, a tree just outside of our street seemed to unroll long tendrils down to the ground in honor of spring. Upon closer inspection, however, these were thin, gossamer threads with worm larvae hanging on in the breeze. I wish I had taken a picture, because I cannot find anything comparable on Google images. I would be close to home, see someone stop, take a closer look, then back away in disgust and keep walking. The company had the tree cut down.

Using my skills as a librarian and a daughter of the Internet-Information age, the only answer I could come up with was cankerworms. Several internet sources claim that the Spring variety will drop down from trees on silken threads (http://www.oznet.ksu.edu/dp_hfrr/extensn/problems/cnkrworm.htm).

And yet Wikipedia has no such article on Spring Cankerworms. I feel as if I can't trust anything anymore.

Google Books

I also work on the Google Books project through Steenbock Library on campus. For a description of the project, go to http://books.google.com/googlebooks/library.html.

The UW-Madison statement on the website:

The combined library collections of the University of Wisconsin- Madison Libraries and the Wisconsin Historical Society Library comprise one of the largest collections of documents and historical materials in the United States. Through this landmark partnership with Google, Wisconsin is taking a leading role in preserving public domain works for future generations and making the Library's resources widely available for education and research...The Google digitization efforts will enable the libraries to expand access to public domain materials that have heretofore only been accessible in the libraries. Much of this material is rare and one-of-a-kind, providing a rich, open source of information for educational, research and general public use."

– Edward Van Gemert, Interim Director, UW-Madison Libraries

It keeps me busy. My favorite titles so far:
Cowboy in the Making
Food & Fun for the Invalid

Steenbock is the Agricultural and Life Sciences library specifically, with a large storage facility that houses old books from other campus libraries. This is the only - ONLY - connection I have with the department of Agriculture.

A Big-Girl Blog

Hello World!

I write to you now to tell you that I have whirlpools of funny things and observations in my head that I must write down in order to stop the incessant badgering of my consciousness.

i.e. I have a lot to say. About lots of stuff.

I am now a junior at the University of Wisconsin - Madison (expect many local observations). I am an English major (expect many literary references or passages I've just read that sent my world spinning) and I live out the love I have for my Lord through the Catholic faith (expect many rants/musings on faith). Summer seemed a perfect time to start something I've wanted to do all year, now that I have more time.

I have made a promise to myself that this blog will not be a way for me to whine to the world, or ramble about how my day was. It's time that I be intentional with what I write and what I present of myself to the public. This could be a stepping stone to the world of Real Jobs, Our Own Families, and Investing Money for the Future. Though any college student could tell you how much we are all terrified of crossing that river into Adulthood.