Roundabout the start of term, there were a great many Orientation Week t-shirts on display bearing the slogan "Reed College: It's not a sprint, it's a marathon."
Now, I'm sure the designers of this shirt had the best intentions, but it came off a little daunting. Yes to the journey, not the destination. Yes to the process, not the result. But a marathon? Are people going to be dumping bottles of water over my head as I emerge from my finals? Is my diet going to consist entirely of salt packets and goop-in-a-tube? Will I be forced to wear poncy neon shorts? I certainly hope not.
However, if we were to run with this metaphor a little longer, replacing marathon with "relay race," we could say that I've just reached my first hand-off point. Trouble being, I've failed to hand anything over. I have, instead, inadvertently set my shorts alight with the torch, then thrown it into the nearby Olympic swimming pool and started to dance the macarena.
Those of you who have taken AP English will doubtless be able to analyze this most righteous of metaphors and discover that I am, in fact, talking about Fall Break. Reed students are given a week at the end of October to cavort and gambol after midterms. This is a wise choice, and it feels like it couldn't have come at a better time. Although I'm settled and happy here, I miss my cats. I miss Ojai. I miss my family and my books and my preposterous mess of a room. And oranges. Oregon has a lot of stuff going for it, but jeez-oh-man they cannot fucking grow oranges. Yeesh.
Anyway. My one and only midterm has come and gone, and now I shoulder my trusty backpack once more and set off in search of the airport. They tell me it's big. I should be able to spot it without too much trouble.
Those of you around at home, stand by. Those of you elsewhere, keep doing whatever it is you're doing that makes you all so lovely/awesome/witty/literary/tall/short/artistic/multilingual/nude. Anyone else: DANCE!
That is all.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Life and Times of a Statiophiliac
As many of you may already be aware, I have a problem. It's the sort of condition that generally plagues me in public, alarming those in my immediate vicinity, and has, to my knowledge, no known cure. If I'm lucky, it manifests itself in the form of lurking -- perhaps with a bit of cooing, mumbling, and caressing thrown in. If unlucky, it leaves me slavering shamelessly in front of shop windows, begging passers-by for change and screaming about binding glue and ink tone.
I am, in short, a Statiophiliac.
Perhaps you've known these people in your time. An aunt who keeps postage stamps in her hair, an old classmate who spends just a little too much time in the library on Friday nights. These people have needs. These needs have a language. But whatever you call it -- stamping, Decoupage, literary ephemering, print-making, fountain penning, ink dunking, book sniffing -- the cause is the same. All these people are consumed with a burning obsession. A burning, papery obsession. They can do nothing to break away.
It is by this lighthearted discussion that I mean to introduce the topic for today -- namely, my completely willingness to do absolutely anything for journals, pens, stamps, envelopes, paper, and sealing wax. So naturally, when I found out that one of blogs I read, which caters specifically to this kind of audience (Or that subset thereof consisting of people dedicating their lives to the search for a cheaper Moleskine alternative), was staging a competition for which the prize was THREE FREE PICCADILLY NOTEBOOKS, I knew my carefully-constructed defenses were all in vain.
Here, then, is my entry for said contest, which really only needs to consist of a link to the blog in question. However, I thought I might take the opportunity to simultaneously educate you all a little about how the other half lives. Because your ignorance leaves us waking up beside some strange college-ruled, spiral-bound abomination on Monday morning who may not even fall under the prestigious heading of "stationary" -- despite its claims to the contrary after all that Mod Podge sealant the night before.
The site in question, which deals with the endless search for the perfect "Black Notebook" can be found here. And while I'm about it, Notebookism publishes some great reviews along the same lines. For notebooks in the field, check out Write In My Journal and the 1000 Journals Project. And finally, for those who need inspiration of a more postal nature, the Letter Writer's Alliance provides you with convenient links and reviews to the most titilating new postage-based joys the web can provide. Oh! While you're at it, the site's founders run the indomitable 16 Sparrows stationary press. And what's more...
I'm sure you all get the point. Now get out of here. I've got books to fondle.
I am, in short, a Statiophiliac.
Perhaps you've known these people in your time. An aunt who keeps postage stamps in her hair, an old classmate who spends just a little too much time in the library on Friday nights. These people have needs. These needs have a language. But whatever you call it -- stamping, Decoupage, literary ephemering, print-making, fountain penning, ink dunking, book sniffing -- the cause is the same. All these people are consumed with a burning obsession. A burning, papery obsession. They can do nothing to break away.
It is by this lighthearted discussion that I mean to introduce the topic for today -- namely, my completely willingness to do absolutely anything for journals, pens, stamps, envelopes, paper, and sealing wax. So naturally, when I found out that one of blogs I read, which caters specifically to this kind of audience (Or that subset thereof consisting of people dedicating their lives to the search for a cheaper Moleskine alternative), was staging a competition for which the prize was THREE FREE PICCADILLY NOTEBOOKS, I knew my carefully-constructed defenses were all in vain.
Here, then, is my entry for said contest, which really only needs to consist of a link to the blog in question. However, I thought I might take the opportunity to simultaneously educate you all a little about how the other half lives. Because your ignorance leaves us waking up beside some strange college-ruled, spiral-bound abomination on Monday morning who may not even fall under the prestigious heading of "stationary" -- despite its claims to the contrary after all that Mod Podge sealant the night before.
The site in question, which deals with the endless search for the perfect "Black Notebook" can be found here. And while I'm about it, Notebookism publishes some great reviews along the same lines. For notebooks in the field, check out Write In My Journal and the 1000 Journals Project. And finally, for those who need inspiration of a more postal nature, the Letter Writer's Alliance provides you with convenient links and reviews to the most titilating new postage-based joys the web can provide. Oh! While you're at it, the site's founders run the indomitable 16 Sparrows stationary press. And what's more...
I'm sure you all get the point. Now get out of here. I've got books to fondle.
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