update on the clock

roommate woke up & was peering at the clock. oh dear.

i told her i think i broke it.

she assured me its not that fragile & then fixed it. tick tock. great.

i told her i like the clock, its nice.
couldn't she see i was lying through my coffee-stained teeth?

just opened window on 40-degree morning. the sound of the interstate blocks the tick tocking quite nicely, thank you.

tick tock, tick tock

my roommate, who is a lovely woman i am excited to have found as a temporary livingmate, just put a clock in our kitchen.

now, i am pleased as punch that she finally appears to be moving in, settling in. her things are slowly popping up around the apartment--i like that.

but i have a thing about those clocks that tick really loudly. you know the ones--quite popular at stores like target. they usually run on a double-a battery & look cutesy. that's just fine.

but the ticking. oh my god. its like it enters my brain & i can't get it out. greg says i'm being over-dramatic. he doesn't know i'm the kid who had to take the battery out of chris' heirloom clock by taking it off the wall one night as i slept over. or that i used to take the one off my parents' kitchen wall when i was up late studying in high school...the ticking just does me in.

so now. she sleeps late in the a.m. & i have dislodged the battery. i'm finishing a paper for tomorrow; i think i'm justified in doing so. but i also seem to have broken the hour hand. shit. the ultimate irony will be when i realize i can't fix it & have to spend my hard-signed-for-loan money on a loud, ticking clock. woe is me.

phone tag

i think erin & i win the contest on this one. between my launch into finals & her grad school/work schedule, i think we have each left 4-5 messages for one another. i'm not sure i've ever played such a great game of phone tag.

i thought this sort of thing was supposed to end with cell phones. weird.

i wonder who wins in this kind of game.

lookin' forward to the game, e!

several bad signs

let me unpack all that is wrong with this scenario:
1. the only good coffee on the east coast is starbucks. east coast sucks.
2. i drank coffee in the afternoon. i haven't done that in months. that means i was uber-tired by 3pm. will i be able to sleep tonight? no good.
3. its friday after 5pm & i'm staring down a long weekend in the library.

on the plus side:
1. please note that i have no scab on my forehead from nervous picking!! wahoozers!!
2. black t-shirt is new (therefore, not smelly)!
3. note the window behind me. i've found a new lovely spot in the library. with a bigger table--all the better for spreading out my stuff!

welcome to finals, my friends.

three weeks from today, i'll have written 4 papers, taken a test & (assuming i pass them all) will be skating to graduation.

housing

okay, so i know i'm supposed to be writing my final papers and studying for my final test (what??! a TEST in grad school? whatever), but g&i are thinking about what kind of standards to have for an apartment-hunt in juneau.

here's what i've got for standards:
-wood floors are a must(preferably no carpet at all)
-washing machine in building
-monthly rent won't break the bank
-nice landlords
-good light is a definite plus

what do you think about in rentals?

back to the papers.

live!

i know, i know. the wait has been dreadful. but fear not!

kate & greg wedding central is now live.

we even have a cheesy wedding email: kateandgreg.wedding@gmail.com.

later loves,
k.

the time has come

i wonder if the thing about getting older is true--somehow the pace of time actually changes. is it possible that the length of an hour is as intersubjective as we are? is it possible time changes rhythm with us?

its true; i'm in an existential anthropology class. was it the jargon that gave me away?

i have entered the time flux grumpily known as "finals." four papers, four weeks. may 18th, loves, may 18th. and then chris comes on the 22nd!! wahoozers!

(and then i get to work on the fun stuff: young women & catholicism!! project going smashingly! nothing like living in the moment, huh?)

off to write about nuns in 1834 & the fire at the convent. gotta love the 19th century scandals! latergators, k.

st. joseph

all right, loves. i need to do some research on you. if any of the following questions are compelling to you, please email me.

if you have happened to stumbled across my blog on the very bottom of searches for "st. joseph, real estate agent," welcome.

the paper of the week is about st. joseph statues and the practice of burying them upside-down on a piece of property on is trying to sell, in order to aid the process. so...

1. have you ever participated in this kind of ritual? if so, what happened? what were the results? were you surprised?

2. has anyone in your family done this? what happened? what do they think about it? what do you?

3. have you heard of this ritual? if so, what do you think about it? why?

thanks, loves.

(and, just for the record, i own my own statue of "st. joseph, home seller kit." purchased by greg, at the mall. the mall. the carmelite chapel and giftshop at the mall.)