02/02/2009, The Desk at The Place
I belong to a yahoo group called Freecycle where I get most of my cameras. All freecycle e-mails in my box have a subject of either Wanted: xxxxxx or Taken: xxxxxx where X can equal anything that can be thrown or given away. Tonight I looked in my box and saw one titled [freecycleMpls] OFFER: adult books -- Hopkins with the following text beneath it:
time in but you might die if anyone saw you there. Variety of titles:
self-help, exploration, a fun book of lists, a bedside companion, and a
history book.
I'll never tell who picked them up if you never tell where you got them
*wink*
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01/27/2009
Fifteen below and wind at sixty,
no way to get the feeder to the cattle;
they'll have to tough it out or not
till the gusting dies down??"
if they weren't the neighbor's herd left
in your care you'd forget them??"
no, they'd be gone, sold for the pleading
or the settlement, like everything;
you think of cutting the motor off to sit
in the tractor cab awhile, radio songs slowly
fading out as they suck the battery dry,
white nonsense scattering at the windshield
like bits of wreckage hypnotizing
till some kind of sleep comes on??"
no sleeping in the house, the bedroom closed,
the kids' rooms too, you only go
to the couch and listen to television voices
calling as if to a lifeboat they don't
know anything about; once in a while the
answering machine??"not her, just
your mother or sister, worried, trying to
coax you to the phone, draw you out,
but you're too tired to tell them there's
nothing left here to worry about:
if the gusting doesn't die down soon
the cold will finish all of it.
| A Poem |
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12/28/2008, The Couch in The Basement at The Place
Hello again, dear Lightblog.
Today, I saw a woman with a mullet, bangs that could gut a fish, and acid-wash taper leg jeans. She was missing teeth, and she and her husband kept referring to "them there digitals" referring to digital cameras. No joke. I didn't know people like that really existed and I kept looking for the hidden camera.
I'll miss that. A certain amount of it. A while back, we got a call from Douchebag the District Manager (or DBDM) telling us that Crackers Camera in Smalltown, Minnesota will be closing on January 24th and yours truly will be out of a job. Perhaps I'll have to find work suitable for a big boy? We shall see.
Anybody want to hire me?
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12/29/2008 | angela (angela dott afgnva;eotgbajkn att yeahright dott com)
I would hire you if I had a business I could hire people for.
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12/25/2008, The Couch in The Basement at The Place
Many families mark the beginning of the holiday season by doing something gay like hanging garland from every goddamn post in the house three days after Halloween. I think that blows. In MY family, the start of the holiday season is when my mother makes me put the booze back in the fridge ("Just for Christmas" she pleads) and asks me once again if I'll be joining a help program for drinkers. Then, with tears in her eyes and a quiver in her voice, she asks, "You're not writing our Christmas letter again this year... are you?" No, Mother, I will not be getting help this year, and yes, mother dear, I am writing the Christmas letter again. Read on, friends and family. Read on.
Anna and Jared have had quite the year. After being told she can no longer work within fifty feet of children because of the lawsuit, Anna decided to get her life in order. She switched to Marlboro Lights and Miller Lite, hoping her stomach would follow the "light" trend. The results we have yet to see. All Anna told us she wanted for Christmas were her two front teeth, but since she and Jared don't have real jobs they could only afford one. It's okay though, because since Anna married into a North Dakota family, she'll fit right in with her "real purdy" front tooth.
Jared, on the other hand, has sprung a pleasant surprise upon the family by managing to keep a steady job and most of his teeth. This is quite a feat for someone from North Dakota, and an even greater feat for someone who is a Rendell by blood. That and the fact that he didn't marry his cousin really speaks to his character.
Amy continues to inspire the whole family with her "fuck you guys, I'm doing what I want" attitude. After many years of internal and external conflict, she decided to have the surgery and is now known as Frank. Frank is now happy popping his collar, wearing too much Polo Sport cologne, and tanning too much. I think he's trying to look like he's from New Jersey. We continue to wish Frank and his life partner Gabe nothing but the best. Even though Gabe is a douche.
I've spent my year doing what I do best: being the guy who "goes there", and hitting the sauce (I'm an MSU student. What do you expect?). Since MSU is everything Fox News makes it out to be, I made a new friend this year named Jack Daniels. Then I made another friend named Beer. I spent my year drinking too much and passing out in my apartment on my birthday, and drinking with my sorority sisters and stumbling into the street and getting hit by cars. Awwww, too soon?
Mom says that I have to thank all you schlups for still being friends with us this year, so consider yourselves thanked. I think I'm going to go get a drink.
Love,
The Fergusons.
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12/26/2008 | angela (theangela att gmail dott com)
really?
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12/05/2008
the timid nuthatch will come to me
if I stand still, with something good to eat in my hand.
The first time he did it
he landed smack on his belly, as though
the legs wouldn't cooperate. The next time
he was bolder. Then he became absolutely
wild about those walnuts.
But there was a morning I came late and, guess what,
the nuthatch was flying into a stranger's hand.
To speak plainly, I felt betrayed.
I wanted to say: Mister,
that nuthatch and I have a relationship.
It took hours of standing in the snow
before he would drop from the tree and trust my fingers.
But I didn't say anything.
Nobody owns the sky or the trees.
Nobody owns the hearts of birds.
Still, being human and partial therefore to my own
successes??"
though not resentful of others fashioning theirs??"
I'll come tomorrow, I believe, quite early.
| A Poem |
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11/10/2008
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill??"more of each
than you have??"inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your work,
doubt their judgment.
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.
| A Poem |
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11/10/2008, THe Desk at The Mom's Place
Above is a picture of my lovely baby car sitting on the lot. I love my car. A lot. Not many grad students have a Volvo, but I'm one of the privileged few who has the luck of driving a snobby liberal car while listening to MPR on the way to Grad School. I rule.
Snobbycar, as I sometimes call her, has been sick lately. I've had an inkling due to the fact that when I turn too far, her wheels scrape the body of the car and throw everything out of alignment. About two weeks back, she got real sick (yeah, bad grammar, deal with it) and I brought her in. My extended warranty covered the following:
Sway arm
Bushings
Ball joint
Steering Stops
Alignment
In all, it came to about 1500 dollars worth of work. I had to pay 200 because of a technicality and a deductible. In all, not a bad deal.
But one does not simply call a guy when Volvo parts are needed. Oh no. Mr Mechanic called Vovlo in Bigtown, Minnesota, and they didn't have the parts. Nobody in the surrounding states had the parts. Nobody at Volvo Corporate had the parts. So they called Sweden. At this point I overheard Mr Mechanic talking to his other Mechanic worker bees in a panicked voice.
We don't speak Swedish, and he doesn't speak English! I heard. How are we going to order these parts if we don't speak Swedish?
Now pay attention, because this is where it gets good.
Upon hearing of their plight, I snuck into a phone booth* and changed into my Captain Awesome outfit. I stepped out of the phone booth and stood for a moment so they could fully drink it in.
Captain Awesome doesn't speak Swedish, but he speaks Norwegian! They're mutually intelligible! I'll save the day! I cried in a manly voice.
After speaking very slowly to the man on the other end of the phone, I managed to get across what parts we needed. I don't know what sway arms or bushing are, and I sure as hell don't know how to say "Steering Stop" in Norwegian, but with the help of the mechanics I managed to describe the parts to the man on the other end of the phone. After getting all of that straightened out, I asked him very casually (but in a manly way), How does one say "Sway Arm" in Swedish? >
He casually replied Du sier det "Sway arm!" I guess it's good to know that in Sweden, they don't change the names of car parts.
But I digress. After waiting a week for the parts for Snobbycar to show up, they fixed it and I assumed that I would shortly be on my merry way. But when I got to the driver's seat and turned her on (as I am so adept at doing), I thought to myself My, that's a strange loud noise! And my, that's a strange surging sensation! And my oh my that's nowhere near the horsepower I had before! After hearing out Mr Mechanic's end of the tale on why it wasn't their fault that the engine didn't want to work after they did 1500 dollars of work to it. After sitting at home chewing it over and Googling the symptoms, I brought her to Tires Plus to see if she would even make it to the dealer in Bigtown. 160 dollars later, they said yes. Yes she will.
Here's the damage:
One Mass Airflow sensor: 500 dollars.
Two Oxygen sensors: 1050 dollars.
Six Spark Plugs: 192 Dollars
One Timing chain: The guy said Six Bills in his voice mail. I assume bills are hundreds, at least they are on the street. Maybe he meant kilos of coke. I'd pay him 6 kilos of coke to fix my car.
* May be exaggerated. Maybe.
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12/17/2008 | boo (bbb att yahoo dott com)
you got some nerve asking for cameras on photo.net and driving a "snobby car". also, i noticed you're asking for a diana camera. i was going to give you a camera, but now? not. here's an idea - sell your car.
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01/14/2009 | El Chris (hah att hah dott com)
Well, bbb@yahoo.com, here's a thought: You're a soppy cunt. Get over yourself. Only people who drive shitty cars can do nice things for other people? I drive a car that's better than yours and therefore I can't follow anything that makes me feel good about myself?That makes a LOT of sense.
I hope you choke. |
If you're feeling generous, you could buy me this. Or, if you're feeling not-quite-as-generous, you could buy me this. But the Diana looks like so much fun!
| Just Sayin'.... |
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11/04/2008, The Place
I posted the following on Freecycle today. Let's see what kind of responses I get.
I'm looking for a competent leader to lead my country for the next 4-8 years. Preferably, the leader will be able to recover my retirement, get rid of all this foreign oil, and accept the fact that "nuclear" is pronounced "new-klee-er" and not "nook-you-lur". Spelling skills and extended vocabulary a plus. Cowboy hats are a minus.
Will pick up between Canada and Mexico.
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11/04/2008, The Same Desk at the Same Place
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory
As he defeated ??" dying ??"
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!
Happy election day, Lightblog.
| A Poem |
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11/03/2008
that life goes on,
or doesn't.
That days are measured out
in tiny increments
as a woman in a kitchen
measures teaspoons
of cinnamon, vanilla,
or half a cup of sugar
into a bowl.
I have learned
that moments are as precious as nutmeg,
and it has occurred to me
that busy interruptions
are like tiny grain moths,
or mice.
They nibble, pee, and poop,
or make their little worms and webs
until you have to throw out the good stuff
with the bad.
It took two deaths
and coming close myself
for me to learn
that there is not an infinite supply
of good things in the pantry.
| A Poem |
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11/02/2008
have gathered at the feet of the trees
lining up in silence
to enter the long corridors
of the roots into which they
pass one by one thinking
that they remember the place
as they feel themselves climbing
away from their only sound
while they are being forgotten
by their bright circumstances
they rise through all of the rings
listening again
afterward as they
listened once and they come
to where the leaves used to live
during their lives but have gone now
and they too take the next step
beyond the reach of meaning
| A Poem |
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10/13/2008, The Desk at The Place
Instead of being aroused by simple things, such as pretty girls or even Viagra, my muse seems to be aroused by to-do lists. It seems whenever I have something pressing to accomplish, my muse needs to say something irrelevant, yet completely and wholly entertaining.
To me, at least.
For those of you who are genuinely interested in what I've been doing the last few weeks, be sure to add my Methods Blog ( http://kabiffftesl.blogspot.com/ ) and my Computer Aided Language Learning Blog (http://teslblogofawesomeness.blogspot.com/) to your feed readers or bookmarks or whatever. I have to update my Methods blog three times per week, and my CALL blog twice per week, so they have been sucking the life out of my Lightblog.
Also, add http://www.gcast.com/u/kabifff/main.xml and http://www.gcast.com/u/kabifff/call.xml to your Podcast players (like Itunes) to hear my thoughts on class, which apparently must ALSO be updated at least once a week.
Now go to them and leave me comments to impress my professor.
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10/14/2008 | me (hi att hi dott org)
So you've got to-do lists, and I've got spreadsheets.
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09/28/2008, The Desk at The Place
In honor of the presidential erection, I wrote a song for one of my favorite candidates. It's to the tune of "Mary had a little lamb".
Ready?
Palin is a stupid cunt
stupid cunt
stupid cunt
Palin is a stupid cunt
Plus her kid's a ho.
Fin.
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09/06/2008, The Desk at The Place on High
Weather: Sunny and beautiful
Listening to: The Rat Pack: I'm Gonna Live Till I Die
As many of you get to know me throughout the next few years, you'll become very aware that I have the attention span of a 3-year-old. As much as I would like to have the capability to sit down and accomplish each task on my increasingly large to-do list in an efficient and focused way, alas, I cannot.
I logged in to my Blogger account this morning at 11:00 sharp, promising myself that I would blog until 11:30, then change into my running clothes and run, and then do other homework and get myself to work on time. But then, after several trips to the coffee machine and checking my e-mail, I logged in to my Bloglines account to see what my classmates were blogging about. Just for some inspiration.
It's now 11:23 and I've just started typing.
Class this week and last not only made me ever more aware of my dislike (and inability) of sitting still and focusing on a single task, it also made me ever more aware of an increasingly annoying part of my personality; I don't work well in groups.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like other people. I do. I'm very loud and I love interacting with people, but I work most efficiently by myself or when I have complete control of the project or task. But one thing was made apparent to me in this past week: I need to get over it.
Group work will never go away. Ever. And if I want to be successful ANYWHERE, doing ANYTHING, I will need to teach myself how to work better in a group.
With all of that said, however, I enjoy group discussion. My group had a very lively discussion about the various articles, and as we moved around and discussed our findings with other groups, we used the gained insight to refine our previous discussions. When Esther asked each group to report on their "Ah-ha!" moments, we all looked at each other, stumped. After some prodding from Esther, however, we all agreed that our "ah-ha!" came not from what was in the articles we discussed, but rather, how we read them. Some of the group members read the articles on the computer screen, and some had printed them and read them on paper. We also discussed the fact that the article assigned to our group was easier to read, not because of the wording, but because of the formatting. While 2 of the articles were written as if they were typed on a typewriter, the one we preferred was written in a magazine, and therefore was formatted as such. It had color, the text was broken into smaller chunks and was therefore easier to process, and the format easily led the reader's eye from start to finish. Using this as our moment, we confidently presented our findings to the rest of the class, who agreed with us!
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