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Bonjour, bloggity-followers! Remember how I used to make lists? Well, I still do it, and here's one for you.

Reading Material I Have Purchased on My New Kindle:

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
The latest issue of The Onion
Uncle Tom's Cabin (author unnecessary, you know who wrote it.)
Great Expectations (see parenthesis above)
War and Peace (see parenthesis above above)
Emma by Jane Austen-- I hate reading Jane Austen novels, but I figure I need to have an educated hatred.

I'm very nearly finished reading The Things They Carried and I must admit it's one of the best books I've ever read. I'm quickly becoming a bleeding-heart pacifist thanks to this grim look at the Vietnam Conflict. Some people complain that O'Brien made it all up, but even he says that some fiction, especially about war, can tell the truth better than a simple presentation of the facts would do. Some favorite quotes:

"They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried."

"They shared the weight of memory."

"They carried the land itself--Vietnam, the place, the soil--a powdery orange-red dust that covered their boots and fatigues and faces. They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity."

"...for all the ambiguities of Vietnam, all the mysteries and unknowns, there was at least the single abiding certainty that they would never be at a loss for things to carry."

"He enjoyed not being dead."

"They died so as not to die of embarrassment."

"You take your material where you find it, which is in your life, at the intersection of past and present."

"A true war story is never moral...you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil."

"Real hoity-toity, all very civilized, except this isn't civilization. This is Nam."

"...all I felt was the awkwardness of remembering."

Festivus

As I type this, I am enjoying a cool glass of Soy Nog (spiced with nutmeg, a stick of cinnamon, and possibly, maybe, improbably, a splash of spiced rum) and a delicious molasses spice cookie, warm from the oven. Eartha Kitt sings "Santa Baby" in the background. My mind wanders to pages 47-48 of Mark Kurlansky's "1968: The Year that Rocked the World", where he details Kitt's shocking toast at a dinner given by Lady Bird Johnson, opposing the war in Vietnam and nearly defending illegal drug use among young people.

After a day at work at J.C. Penney, dealing with all the crazies doing their last-minute shopping, I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing than relaxing right here at home, in my gaudy Christmas sweater, getting ready to watch The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, White Christmas, or It's a Wonderful Life. I don't care how cheesy it sounds.

I've been using the same recipe for Christmas cookies for the past several years, stolen from Better Homes and Gardens' "Christmas Comfort & Joy", published in Des Moines (fittingly) in 2002. It may be the world's most domestic book, and thus, its recipes are top-notch. This one is pretty easy to follow and fills the house with the most festive scent imaginable.

Soft Ginger Cookies

Ingredients:
2 1/4 c all-purpose flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 c butter, softened
1 c sugar plus 2 tbsp
1 egg
1/4 c molasses

Steps:
1. Preheat oven to 350. Combine flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt. Set aside. In a large mixing bowl with an electric mixer beat butter for 30 seconds. Add 1 cup sugar. Beat until fluffy.
2. Add egg and molasses; beat well. Add half the flour mixture; beat until combined. Stir in remaining flour mixture with a wooden spoon.
3. Shape dough into 1-inch balls. Roll in 2 tbsp sugar; place on ungreased cookie sheets 2 inches apart. Bake in the preheated oven 10 minutes or until light brown and puffed. Let cool on cookie sheets 2 minutes. Transfer to wire racks to cool. Makes about 36 cookies.

Merry Christmahanukkwanzaa to all of you, dear readers, and enjoy your celebrating.

Black Swan

I saw the new Natalie Portman movie last night, Black Swan. It's a beautiful film full of drama and suspense. One review called it a "psycho-sexual thriller" and I couldn't agree more with that description. Portman is certain to get an Academy nod for her portrayal of a neurotic ballerina like we've never seen before. The film is dark and twisted, grotesque and perfect at the same time.

The following poem was inspired by the film. I imagined what would have happened if the protagonist, Nina, had not gotten the role of the Swan Queen in Swan Lake at all. I figured her madness would have overtaken her anyway, even though it would have made for a much less poignant story.


The Cast List

It was a veritable lunar eclipse--
The white moon hidden by the dark stain of night--
as the pieces of her confidence shattered into bits
like mirror shards on the ground,
reflecting in broken pixels the looks of
“I’m so sorry” and “What a disappointment”
and “That must feel awful”
Yes, you are.
And it was.
And it does.

Je suis retournée!

Hello, dearest bloggity-followers! I know I haven't written in the greater part of a year, but the Glorious Archduke of Fracophony issued a mandate yesterday that I could not ignore. Thanks to the undeniably moralistic overtones of the word "ought", a subject the Archduck has much researched, the statement "you ought to write again" carried with it immeasurable weight, and here I am again.

I love William & Mary and can't say enough positive things about the school or my friends here.

I visited my old high school in October. It was a strange experience to say the least. It’s odd when you’ve changed but everything else is still the same. The school is still a cold cinder block castle on a hill, the administration still hates me, and my teachers are exactly the same as when I left. Tyler May and I snuck in the side door as we’ve done a million times because the mean guy in the office wouldn’t let us in the building. 

I have a lot to say about my new friends (they're eclectic and funny and gorgeous and brilliant), my romantic relationships (the Czar and I very dramatically had a falling-out, these things always end), my academic pursuits (the first semester of school is over now), and my job (I call alumni and demand donations for the school), but now that I'm writing again, I don't want this to turn into a diary. I'm going to concentrate on pieces of original fiction and poetry, reviews of movies, music, and books, and descriptions of interesting things I learn.

Today's entry was prompted by a stumbleupon page called "Exercises for Fiction Writers". The prompt says: Write a dramatic scene between two people in which each has a secret and neither of them reveals the secret to the other or to the reader. It reminded me of Hills Like White Elephants, a fantastic piece I read in high school.

Bonnie: (taking off her coat as she slides into the booth) I’m so sorry I’m late. I'm always late.

Charlie: (looking up from his coffee) It’s fine! I’m just glad you could make it.

B: It’s been such a tough week. The closer it gets to Christmas, the worse my hours get. I’ve been on my feet for ten plus every day this week. 

C: Look! It just started snowing. (He looks out the window) Just look at it coming down!

B: (looking out the window) That’s not snow, it’s sleet. The roads will be hell once we leave here. God, I hope it doesn't freeze when it hits the ground.

A waiter appears- to Bonnie: Can I get anything for you?

B: Sure, I’ll take a coffee. Decaf, please.

C: I think the city is beautiful this time of year. It’s so…alive.

B: I can’t stand it. It’s too cold. Too many tourists, they jack up prices on everything. Hey, have you heard from Denise?

C: Yeah, I got a nice Christmas card from her. She has such gorgeous kids. Why?
B: She and Tom are getting a divorce.

C: (Nearly spits out his coffee) What?! They seemed so happy!

B: He was cheating on her. With a 23-year-old waitress. He moved out last Sunday, he’s got a little apartment down the street from here, actually. They haven’t figured out custody of the kids yet. She’s a total wreck about it.

C: I’ll bet. I’m so sorry to hear that. You know, love is a beautiful thing. It’s so sad when it doesn’t work out. Makes you want to just go up and ask God why, you know? Like, why do bad things happen to good people?

B: I’m surprised you’re so upset. It’s not like you and Denise were ever particularly close. I mean, she was my best friend in high school, not yours.

C: Yeah, but when you and I were together, we spent a lot of time with her and Tom. I’m sure you remember the double dates we had.

B: Of course I remember. I’m just saying, you’d never really have known her if it wasn’t for me.

C: I guess that’s true. (Pause). I miss you, Bonnie.

B: I live ten minutes away. That’s not even possible.

C: No, I mean I miss us, I guess. I mean, a couple of months ago, when we were at the reunion, and we went home together, it wasn’t just a thing for me. I wanted to, you know, because I miss being with you. And now that I've been thinking about things, it just sort of came into perspective. 

B: Charlie…

C: What?

B: I have something to tell you. You need to promise me you can handle it.

C: I have something to tell you too. You first.

I'll post what each person's secret was sometime soon, but I want to give you some time to try and figure it out. Comment if you think you know.

Update Time!

It has been a full month since my last post, but as I don't apologize to my blog followers, I shan't. Instead, I shall attempt to fill my avid readers in on what all has been going on in my life...


I have committed to the College of William & Mary. I'm beside myself with anticipation for college- more on that later. 


I'm in the midst of AP Hell Week.


My job is becoming higher-maintenance by the week.


My friendships have grown stronger than ever.


I've been spending far too much time listening to sad folk songs by neofeminist acoustic guitar players.


The Czar and I are happy as ever.


I turned eighteen, bought a losing lottery ticket, and went clubbing.


So, I suppose that about covers it. I figured describing a whole month would take more effort, but apparently my life is less interesting than I thought. Instead of boring you, dear readers, with more diary-like writing, I'm going to quote some recent emails I have given and received to and from the Archduke. The Czar has sent emails as well, but they are mushy and poetic and not nearly as absurd as the following.


"Kate told me today that currently school is comparable to a lame-duck presidency. This is because anything important in our high school careers has already been done and we're not seeking a chance to return ever again. Thus, we are only looking to the future and all time in school is an utter waste."


"Dearest Dear of Dear Dear Dearness,

At this time, I sit on my unmade bed.  My feet are tangled in my comforter.  My arm and about 10% of my arse are resting on a moderately stuffed pillow.  The rest of my arse has no pillow."

"I now have an iGoogle homepage. It has a hamster. And of course, my facebook, gmail, NY Times, etc. But mostly a hamster. He's cute."

"Do I get to call you the Archgoose?  Since apparently geese and ducks are, in common language, essentially the same species according to certain individuals.."

"I discovered that even were I to major in maths, I would still make no monies, as all monies are in applied and not pure maths."

"During first period, I took a physics test.  This is because my first period is physics."

Every day I attend school lately, I feel like I'm losing intelligence. Sometimes I look back on my high school career and wonder why I can't remember positive things. It's not that nothing good has happened in the past four years; I'm sure good things have come to pass. It's just that so much more of this time period has been negative than positive...all those people who call it the best four years of their lives don't have a clue what it's like to try for Valedictorian. It's stressful and boring and requires far too much commitment and motivation. In one's pursuit of this title, one loses one's best friends, one's Me Time, one's positive outlook, and one's four years. Something I can say, though, is that high school has fostered my flame for sarcasm and bitingly negative wit. I promise to write again, soon, dear readers.

Poor Man's Poached Pears

Take one ripe Asian pear. Use an apple slicer to cut it into wedges and remove the core. Lay the wedges on their sides on a microwave-safe plate and microwave for 8 seconds. Drizzle honey over the warm slices and dip them in whipped cream.

Trust me, this is amazing. Like poached pears, but crunchier, cheaper, and more delicious. I think it's an excellent excuse to say you eat fruit for dessert.

Update

Another day passes with an empty mailbox. Oh, how slowly come letters when we are expectant of them! The following are my college application statuses, in ascending order of how badly I want to attend the school.

Pitt- accepted, offered merit scholarship and Honors College
UNC- accepted
NYU- applied, no word yet
Columbia- applied, phone-interviewed, no word yet
Princeton- applied, interviewed, no word yet
Harvard- applied, interviewed, no word yet
William and Mary- applied, no word yet

As you can see, I am waiting on quite a few decisions this month. April 1st is the last day letters will be sent. It is also, coincidentally, the date of prom. Not the prom date, however, because that is the Czar. (The preceding sentences were a pun.) Anyhoosier, it shall be an eventful day to the utmost. Wish me luck, dear readers.