moving on...

whew. survived art fair. barely. i actually almost lost my voice from trying to make myself heard over the masses at the bucks. i got off work yesterday at 5:30, and by the time i went back out a couple of hours later, the tents were gone, the art on a stick nowhere to be seen. it was like the whole thing never happened. bizarre. went to an after art fair party with a bunch of alicia's co-workers. who, by the way, are so much fun!! free--and really good!!--wine, cheap sangria, pitcher of margaritas. lots of general bitching about art fair and trading stories about the absurdity that is life in this town in the service industry. it was good.

i'm still trying to figure out where i fit into all of this, but i am occasionally hopeful.

still trying to get situated at home--and readjust to living with cats!!! it's actually ok, as long as i don't sleep for more than four hours. greeeeeat. it's also really hard to type with a cat AND a laptop on your lap, but everytime i sit down to try to type something, linford climbs into my lap like it's his new favorite thing... his other new favorite thing is my suitcase, which i finally emptied. it's still in the middle of the living room floor, but at least now there's nothing in it, except linford, occasionally.

now that the art fair craziness is over, i'm, at least theoretically, job hunting. which is... frustrating. but also...what's the word--not inspiring, exactly, but encouraging, i guess, in that it's reminding me of all of the things i WANT to do, even if i can't do them--not yet. and i've been reading. and being read to. most recently, from The Silver Chair. i'd quote the whole thing, but i'm too lazy, and really, you kind of need to read the whole book anyway, but here's the bit i'm holding onto:


"Now the Witch said nothing at all, but moved gently across the room, always keeping her face and eyes very steadily towards the Prince. When she had come to a little ark set in the wall not far from the fireplace, she opened it, and took out first a handful of green powder. This she threw on the fire. It did not ablaze much, but a very sweet and drowsy smell came from it. And all through the conversation which followed, that smell grew stronger and filled the room and made it harder to think. Secondly, she took out a musical instrument rather like a mandolin. She began to play it with her fingers -- a steady, monotonous thrumming that you didn't notice after a few minutes. But the less you noticed it, the more it got into your brain and your blood. This also made it hard to think. After she thrummed for a time (and the sweet smell was now strong) she began speaking in a sweet, quiet voice.

"Narnia?" she said. "Narnia? . . . There is no land called Narnia."

"Yes there is, though, Ma'am," said Puddleglum. "You see, I happen to have lived there all my life."

"Indeed," said the Witch. "Tell me, I pray you, where that country is?"

"Up there," said Puddleglum, stoutly, pointing overhead. "I - I don't know exactly where."

"How?" said the Queen, with a kind, soft, musical laugh. "Is there a country up there among the stones and mortar on the roof?"

"No," said Puddleglum, struggling a little to get his breath. "It's in Overworld."
But the witch's magic eventually dulls their minds:
"No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream."

"Yes. It is all a dream," said the Witch, always thrumming.

"Yes, all a dream," said Jill.

"There never was such a world," said the Witch.

"No," said Jill and Scrubb, "never was such a world."

"There never was any world but mine," said the Witch.

"There never was any world but yours," said they.

The Prince and the two children were standing with their heads hung down, their cheeks flushed, their eyes half closed; the strength all gone from them; the enchantment almost complete. But Puddleglum, desperately gathering all his strength, walked over to the fire. Then he did a very brave thing. He knew it wouldn't hurt him quite as much as it would hurt a human; for his feet (which were bare) were webbed and hard and cold-blooded like a duck's. But he knew it would hurt him badly enough; and so it did. With his bare foot he stamped on the fire, grinding a large part of it into ashes on the flat hearth. And three things happened at once.

First, the sweet, heavy smell grew very much less. For though the whole fire had not been put out, a good bit of it had, and what remained smelled very largely of burnt Marsh-wiggle, which is not at all an enchanting smell. This instantly made everyone's brain far clearer. The Prince and the children held up their heads again and opened their eyes.

Secondly, the Witch, in a loud, terrible voice, utterly different from the sweet tones she had been using up till now, called out, "What are you doing? Dare to touch my fire again, mud-filth, and I'll turn the blood to fire inside your veins."

Thirdly, the pain itself made Puddleglum's head for a moment perfectly clear and he knew exactly what he really thought. There is nothing like a good shock of pain for dissolving certain kinds of magic.
Then Puddleglum says this to the Witch:
"One word, Ma'am" he said coming back from the fire; limping because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things - trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones..."

stolen stats and flippant commentary

now that i'm home again, i suddenly have all this time to catch up on my reading. (if you're wondering about the irony in that statement, well, so am i...) so here a few interesting facts from the Harper's Index from April 2006--and, of course, my two cents thereto:

Number of tunnels that have been discovered under the U.S.-Mexico border since 2001: 34
Number under the U.S.-Canada border: 1
(now really, people, do you think the Canadians are trying to sneak into the U.S., or are the Americans trying to get out!?!?)

Percentage of Canadians who say that immigrants are a "good influence" on their nation: 77
Percentage of Americans and Germans, respectively, who say this: 49, 35

can we talk about that?!?!?! i guess we don't really need to. the numbers speak for themselves...

oh, and a word about the swiss and art fair. so the running theme during my brief stay in the country flowing with alpine milk and chocolate was how rude people are there. obviously, this is not true of everyone, and is really more typically true of cities than of countries, which is probably what was going on, but whatever. one of the places this was recurringly evidenced was on the buses. or perhaps more specifically, getting ONTO the buses. we were repeatedly shoved aside or smacked with large (and small!) bags, shoved some more, harassed by bus drivers, etc. and simone kept saying that this would never happen in ann arbor, citing the art fair shuttle buses as an example, because supposedly the people just line up, like literally and very britishly queue up, forming a single file line, waiting to get on the shuttle buses. to be honest, i was a bit skeptical. i mean, i KNOW art fair. and it was a little hard for me to believe that the same middle-aged, not so naturally blonde women with knock-off chanel sunglasses and their cute little visors, who nearly kill each other trying to pick up their venti extra whip mocha frappuccinos light, wouldn't shove a little getting onto a bus. BUT as i was wandering around the art fair yesterday afternoon--since, thanks to my work schedule, that was the only chance i'd get to look around--what did i see, but two perfectly patient, completely shove-free lines of people filing into the shuttle buses. i actually did a double-take. then just stood there for a minute staring blatantly, unable to believe what i was seeing. gaping at this--i still maintain, unusual--act of selflessness on the part of this particular portion of the some 500,000 people from across the nation, who are reported to show up at this ann arbor event. the fun part is going to be trying to hold onto that mental picture all afternoon, while i'm slaving away at the blenders... wish me luck!! (really, i haven't lived in ann arbor long enough to be this jaded about art fair... or have i??) =)

p.s. try googling "art on a stick"... but you didn't hear that here.

don't wake me if i'm dreaming

flowers and raspberries from the farmer's market, a greek's reunion, a charming outdoor wedding complete with readings from the velveteen rabbit and the little prince, free coffee and a counting crows and weezer sing-along on the drive to lake michigan, being behind the wheel of a car for the first time in 11 months... i think it's starting to sink in. people are still speaking english, and i haven't ridden a bus or train for 3 whole days. the supermarkets here are larger than some small towns in germany--and definitely open later than most people are awake there... i might actually be home--for real!!!

say yes to jetlag

yes, i'm home. somehow. nine hours and several baggage fiascos later...

it's 7 in the morning, and i do not need to be awake. but my body seems to think otherwise, so here i am, sitting on my couch in my living room with my cats, who are very excited that someone is up to feed them so early. someone next door has an alarm clock that sounds like a phone ringing, and it's been going off for the past hour. if i weren't already so wide awake, i'd probably want to shoot them. and this is america, so i could. i mean, not really, but you know. i'm still not sure i'm actually home. i mean, this looks like ann arbor, and everyone's speaking english, but i guess i've been on the go so much over the past few weeks--or months, that in my head, this must be just the next stop, and i'll have to pack my bags and move again in a week or something. although i suppose when i start working again, it'll sink in pretty quickly that i'm here for a while. and evidently, i start monday. just in time for art fair!!! woohoo!!