YA

Maybe I should have spent the last two hours applying for that full-time library position that just opened up, BUT when/if they ask me in my interview what was the latest book I read, I can say "Sammy Keyes! And it was all worth it for the kiss at the end!'

My cheeks are rosy just thinking about it. I love fairy tales. And middle school romance. Woot.

past, present, future

more car woes

As my readership of one knows, my car's name is Ophelia. Over the past year, she has been dying a slow and painful death. Monday, as a trickle of water went down the inside of my windshield, leaking through a crack, I sensed the water closing in.

*Unromantically, I stuffed the crack with Wendy's napkins.

total destruction of the kitchen

It's a good night of cooking when you go through almost an entire head of garlic.

stubby ponytail

There have been about three haircuts in my life that haven't ended in tears. Today makes that number four. Surprisingly, it felt kind of refreshing to watch K* sweep up my head's hard work.
I'm not saying that the short locks are here to stay. I like washing and leaving in the morning and I figure I've only got a few more years of acceptable long hair left (before I lose my 'youthful shine'). But now I have that goal to work towards. And who knows what will happen while those 5 inches grow.

workz

The woman who formerly held my position at my place of employment set up her e-mail to forward to my work e-mail, so no important communication would be missed.

I’m really glad this important piece of communication wasn’t missed.

the tribal drums

I have to win the office contest. And two sentences in this blog count as a point for the day. Woohoo.

The drums are beating and I feel like stomping like a plaid Indian.


p.s. #101 post

caramel apple

A coworker presented everyone in the office with their own caramel apple yesterday. She'd dipped each apple in caramel, rolled it in crushed Butterfingers, and stuck a knobby stick in the top. The plastic wrap was even tied with the classic brown twine.

I seriously miss making crafts. Who would have ever thought that sentence would come out of my mouth? Not me.

This week, I think I'll spend some time with Martha.

one measly piece of paper

Most expensive piece of paper of my life.

So far.

madre

Soothing words from my mother:

"If you didn't get that job, another will present itself. Stay confident. Remember my favorite 'when one door closes, another door opens (but it's h--- in the hallway).'"

one year anniversary

drooler (n.): a small child who crouches and drools in the cashwrap everytime I motion towards her to exit.

As the drooler continued her routine, the Gap employee was overcome by her ovaries and unable to forcibly remove the child. So she gave her a sticker and let her play with the telephone.

"Who threw this shoe?"

I've always been somewhat disdainful of women who make comments like "Oh me, oh my, I'm only thirty! Can't you tell?!" when they're obviously 47. As one who proudly parts my hair so that each of my 3-5 grey hairs show, I hope to be a woman who just accepts my age and lives with it. No teenybopper pants for me when I'm thirty. No sirree.

Or so I thought. While I was driving up to SLC, singing Ace of Base, I thought, "Oh Ellen, wasn't it so much fun to sing this song on your birthday? Being 21 is the best."

...dang it.

Though, if I were as young as I'm feeling, I'd be 40 today.

in the lives of others

Some important things occurred in the lives of some important people.

1. My parents were featured on a blog. The phrase, "Mrs. Wilson is entertaining" holds so much more meaning than you can realize.

2. W* finished Arrested Development.

more vintage ads

Sunday brunch anyone?

Mix - Kitchen Crafts

MIX! is officially linked in.
Mix - Kitchen Crafts

they're everywhere.

While searching for my blog today, Nick stumbled upon my old website.

What can I say? I'm well-rounded.

Shalom.

Frontin' on Debra

Debra and I just agree on everything.

take it downtown

A few nights ago, during the Suns vs. Lakers game, a commercial for the KFC Double Down Chicken sandwich came on. After it finished, W* and I looked at each other and confessed our mad desire to at least try it. We should have listened to A*, who immediately pronounced it the sickest thing she’d ever seen.

Today was the day of fulfillment. Sure, I enjoy a little grease fest every once in a while. I never thought I’d say no to fried chicken and bacon (mmm, bacon). But KFC’s marketing crew was spot on for this one: it did make me unhungry. Plastic cheese, stringy bacon glued between two slabs of cardiac arrest-chicken…



540 calories. They have to be lying about that number.

These photos were on the first bite, when we were still excited about it:













So...next?

dance tutorials

I was born the year I should have been in my prime.

Two of these (one, two, three) songs use the word 'bacon.'

Bring it home.
(Ahem, jean on jean.)

do the hustle

I ordered a new phone today. My only requirements going into the process were that it had to be free and have a good battery life. The first was definitely achieved and the reviews are promising for the second.

So I spent lunch e-mailing myself all the photos that I just can't live without. Take a look at some of the goods:

Here's looking at you, kid.





You give me the strength to succeed.







Frank- you were the first and the best.








A house on stilts, overlooking the edge of Nantucket Island. I covet.









The first drive.








It's almost hard to determine the real from the fake.








You tasted so good.







PYT







The latest and greatest addition. Memo to myself to superimpose my face on this.

i now make $5.75 more a week.

I've had quite a few questions on my mind over the last few days.

First off, why does my towel get warm when I dry my hair off in the morning? Noni thinks it's because the water is warm but I'm wondering if friction plays any sort of role.
...I should ask The Board.

And...if I go over and compliment a fellow worker on her designs because I genuinely like them and because it will eat up time...is that selfish?

You should tip me

"If confirmed, Kagan, 50, would be the youngest member of the current Supreme Court, the third Jew, the third woman, and the 9th Ivy Leaguer. She once clerked for the late Justice Thurgood Marshall, who called his 5’3” clerk “shorty.”"

Visit here for the definition of "shorty" (alternate spelling: 'shawty').

A Calm, Raging Storm

Minus the 12-hour workdays, I still feel like I’m on vacation. I wake up so early that I have plenty of leisure time for a run before 8am. My route ends on the same corner as normal and I stand for a few seconds before turning and running the extra two blocks back to my starting point. Then there is the unfamiliar shower and rummaging through boxes and bags for an outfit. I’ve verbally been blaming my laziness but the truth is that I don’t want to unpack; it would mean settling in and I want to hold on to my nomadicity for as long as possible.

Leaving the boxes behind, I’m enjoying the outside weather with my current book of choice: Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams: Short Stories, Prose, and Diary Excerpts by Sylvia Plath. Although I just purchased the book last year, I’ve had the quote from the back cover written in my high school notebook since I first discovered SP when I was sixteen:

“What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination…If I sit still and don’t do anything, the world goes on beating like a slack drum, without meaning. We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.”

She’s not the greatest role model, to be sure, but midst her somewhat disturbed prose, there are lines like these:

“If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I’m as neurotic as hell. I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.”

And, simply enough, this quote is probably why I love SP: “There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them.”

In closing, as I set off to finish that dreaded grad school essay over the lunch hour, I echo her prayer: Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.

Edinburgh

Well I ended the trip just about the same as how I started it--- running into a friend. Saw good ol' Mikey Baby at the Holyrood Abbey today.

The Countryside

I've successfully avoided stepping in the sheep poop. And let me tell you, there is a lot of it.

We hiked up a hill, through sheep pastures and next to 'ha ha' walls, to this tower a few days ago. From the top, you look out over rolling hills and small stone villages. Next to the Jurassic Coast (with its white cliffs), it was the most incredible view I've ever seen in my life. I know we have some massive landscapes back home, but I've never seen anything so green as the hills here.

Photos and movies to come. When we get back.

Tate Modern

In order to keep my dates in line, I'm making this and then editing later.

Bangers and Mash

Mom kept warning me that the sausages are different here so of course I had to try them. As Carolyn would say, "I just love mixed meats." They were rather mild and not as spicy or flavorful as most American sausages but I enjoyed them immensely.

We were going to do some pub hopping after we got back from Leed's Castle, Dover, Canterbury Cathedral, and Greenwich, but once we got to the 'Ye Olde Chesire Cheese' pub (an old hang-out of Dickens'), we were just so famished that we blew through appetizers and main course at the one pub.

Dessert was at a different location, however. I was so excited when I read the plaque over Fuller's Pub (located in the Old Bank of England--gorgeous) that talked about Sweeney Todd murdering his victims in the passages under the bank. I'd never realized that he was actually a real person. Except it was completely false. He really is only fiction. (That is, if you trust Wikipedia.)
I know it's morbid, but it was still exciting. We didn't have any meat pies at that pub, but the bread puddings--mmm. Delicious.

Mom also keeps talking about being homesick. Every time she mentions it, I just say, "I can't be homesick. I don't have a home right now."
But I am feeling a bit of heart pain. No, it's not heartburn from the bangers. I miss a lot of faces, smiles, and twinkling eyes.

Oof. It was such a lovely day and now I feel a little miserable. Time go curl up next to Joseph.


(Sorry that this post is only about food. It's my one weakness.)

God Bless

...Joseph Loyal for paying for the Internet. I know he's going to call for his computer soon so this has to be a shortie but I just wanted to share a highlight from the day (the day full of Hyde Park, London Marathon, Victoria and Albert, dinner with the Sandholtzes, and strolling along the Thames):

Dad saw this statue and said, "Looks like salad tongs."

That plus Mom talking forever about B&Bs and the Ritz over dinner = Classy Hick Family.

Hello England. The Wilsons are here.
Your country will never be the same.

If anything, the methane in the air is definitely going to increase. Thanks again to JL.

reading

Let me count the pages:
Postmodern Lit: 2,177
Young Adult Lit: 3,830 (+ 3 books)
Gender and Performance: 718
Critical Theory: I'd prefer not to look at that book again.
Folklore: Tired of counting. A book.


Summer Reading List:
-The New Yorker Book of Food and Drink
-Things Fall Apart
-"Disco Clothing, Female Sexual Motivation, and Relationship Status: Is She Dressed to Impress?"
-Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams

"That's the most excited I've ever seen you in the four years I've known you."

I am SO excited about my new decor.

Cheese

For some of us, the different kinds of cheddar are very important

the stranger

"Nausea is the result of living inauthentically in the world."


Critical theory: my new webmd.

hymn 136

I feel truth and beauty when everyone, in unison, crescendos on the fourth verse, at the end of the sixth measure.

jungle boogie

Today I feel motivated to:
-Exercise. (check. Thank you N* for the pilates and soup cans)
-Buy a house. A yellow one with a brick porch covered in ivy.
-Plant a garden.
-Go to San Francisco and watch the seals.
-Play hopscotch.
-Read in a rowboat.


Today I have to:
-Write three papers.
-Work.


Sigh.

choices

Die.

second form of the week

I'm currently using my graduation form as a bookmark.

Her trivia are priceless.

"First day, $2. Second day, $4. Third day, you keep the movie, we keep your $10."

March 7, 1988

G reat Scott! It's your birthday! I'm sure you've just been
R ambling through the great city of Seville (and others) and having all sorts of
A dventures, (like eating pigs' feet! Gross!) but I just want you to know that today you should be
C utting a rug (that means dancing) and skipping because not only are you getting this
I nternet birthday shout-out, but all the Spaniards are in the streets, yelling, "Senorita Vanessha!
E s su cumpleaños!!"

Reincarnate

He's back.



And he's part of the family.

Jogdream

Most people lose themselves in their iPod while they jog. Downbeat, right foot. While I'm typically plugged in, the beat dies out after a few miles. Enter the Jogdream. It's not merely a daydream because I have to conjure up enough emotion to distract my mind from my body. Sometimes it's anger but typically the strongest emotion comes from a jogdream infused with sadness or fierce injustice. It's always simple, with plenty of leeway for details that can be worked into each succeeding retelling as I add on miles.
The latest one was mostly just morbid. But it worked. MapMyRun = 4.82.

My right hand was pulled back into my sleeve, clutching my iPod. My keys, the whole keyring, was looped on my pinky. I'm running across gravel, not paying any attention to my footing. I trip. Of course. Hand slams into a rock, driving a single key through my hand. From what N* has said about punctures, I do not remove it. Calmly, probably in shock, I knock on the door of a house. "Sorry-- Could you call 911? I think I need to go to the hospital."
The ambulance ride is a blur. Seated on a doctor's table, a nurse asks me for insurance. I ask her to call my mom. The nurse leaves and I sit alone, waiting for the doctor to come. I hate hospitals.
Surgery is performed. Nothing seriously damaged but there is a large bandage on my hand. A bored nurse at the front desk checks me out. I stand sheepishly in the lobby for awhile before asking if I can use the phone.
No one answers at home in Indiana. I hang up and walk out the front door. Then I walk home.

I don't know anyone's phone number. Without my cellphone, I couldn't call J* or N*....not even the HTs. There is no one to pick me up.

Replay.

To That Girl

who didn't know The Things They Carried is fiction.

Your anger was so unjustified. Don't dismiss the truth just because it's labeled Fic O'Brien.

Sorry Spaniard

It's the night before a trip. I could have been in bed about twenty minutes ago but...that felt wrong.
So instead, I'm perched on top of a pile of clean laundry (feels just like driving the car). Sorry to the traveler that I haven't been great at the stories. Because it's all about the stories.

Biggest news on this front is that the blood came out of my new Wal-mart $3 sweatshirt. And I'm rather sad about that.

Tomorrow's Destination:


Here's to Valentine's spent in foreign lands.

My Nights

Meatballs, you're next.

Oh noes.

Is our magazine dead?

Everybody Today

What do death, Mika and I have in common?

...We all witnessed Non-star perform in the garage. Leaps, pushes, grunts, circles...all inclusive.

Death/Adam kind of looks like Colin Firth.

To My New Audience (of One)

There is a part during Julie & Julie where the blogger's husband points out the narcissistic elements involved in blogging. While I can be rather self-centered/involved/aggrandizing, I didn't want these traits to be publicly flaunted on my blag. So, as you may have observed, this blog is full of nothingness (since I am unable to draw wit from even the most simple of phrases like N-fag).

That era is over. From now on, the exciting life of EMWilson, English(?) Major extraordinaire must be documented. Because if there is one thing she knows, it's that she can't let Nessa's blog be more exciting than hers. 'Cause hello. Provo beats Spain in excitement.

Right?

New Job

New Pay:

Fear in the Hearts of Men and Pirates

Tonight, surrounded by three scallywags, I thought for a few moments that my life...was over. A dagger at my throat and a 'Jack Sparrow' sword creeping up my spine, only the swift dive off the couch kept my blood from spilling.

To protect myself, the plan is to overnight a Garden Jawa and strategically place it outside their bedroom door. They won't be able to exit from sheer fright.

Let's see how long those diapers hold. I give 'em two days before they're begging for their freedom.