im going to say something because i feel like i have to and this is the most not-public-but-still-public way to do it.
I LIKE SHANIA! i know pretty much every one hates her and for awhile i went with it cuz your my friends. but i dont care anymore. shania is an amazing person! im glad i took the time to get to know her instead of assuming she was stuck up and whatever people say about her. shes nice and.... idk. there are some people that are really adamant about not likeing her. this is me saying i like her. and i dont give a fuck what you say.

on that note, i went horse back riding with her today! it was really fun! and cool. and i didnt die! then we went and listened to good music at this church. now im home... yup. see yas.

Most of which, I'm not going to share. However, the closing lines were this narration: 

While the boy was giving me a haircut, he started humming "The little drummer boy", but three-fourths of the way through he lost the tune, and so he made it up for a while. It sounded so good that he paused to make a phone call. It was to get himself a rhythm section. He went on to have an amazingly successful career as a solo artist. The supreme irony is that the talent which was to give so much amusement to so many was first released while giving a haircut to a soldier doomed to die in a meaningless war on a dead planet under a general whose life was meaningless. So don't worry if you don't get the job you want right away.

Other dream facets included: 

• The gates of hell are actually a single doorway.
• People in hell can be saved, but people in heaven can't get sent to hell.
• Time paradoxes involving blue sweatshirts.
• Creepy old men who may or may not be based on Harry Potter characters.
• Shouting frustrations and the names of people responsible in an attempt to right old wrongs.
• A number of strange women.

DREAMS ARE WEIRD. BB

As I type this, I am only a couple hours out of the theater and seeing it. I thought it was decent. Maybe 'good', but not great or wonderful. What interested me the most about it was the "moral" that the movie brought with it. It stressed very highly the evils of corporate influence on nature. Even the castings reflected this. It was interesting, to say the least. 

I wonder how much your head will hurt after this one. It makes me laugh. Bonus points for anybody other than Thomas who points out the error. (sorry Thomas).

Let a and b each be equal to 1. Since a and b are equal,

b^2 = ab (eq. 1)

Since a equals itself, it is obvious that

a^2 = a^2 (eq. 2)

Subtract equation 1 from equation 2. This yields

a^2 – b^2 = a^2 – ab (eq. 3)

We can factor both sides of the equation; a^2 – ab equals a(a – b). Likewise, a^2 – b^2 equals (a + b)(a – b). Substituting into equation 3 we get

(a + b)(a – b) = a(a – b) (eq. 4)

So far, so good. Now divide both sides of the equation by (a – b) and we get

a + b = a (eq. 5)

Subtract a from both sides and we get

b = 0 (eq. 6)

But we set b to 1 at the very beginning of this proof, so this means that

1 = 0 (eq. 7)

Going further, we know that Winston Churchill has one head. But one equals zero by equation 7, so that means that Winston has no head. Likewise, Churchill has zero leafy tops, therefore he has one leafy top. Multiplying both sides of equation 7 by 2, we see that

2 = 0 (eq. 8)

Churchill has two legs, therefore he has no legs. Churchill has two arms, therefore he has no arms. Now multiply equation 7 by Churchill's waist size in inches. This mans that

(Winston's waist size) = 0 (eq. 9)

This means that Winston Churchill tapers to a point. Now what color is Winston Churchill? Take any beam of light that comes from him and select a photon. Multiply equation 7 by the wavelength, and we see that

(Winston's photon's wavelength) = 0 (eq. 10)

But multiplying equation 7 by 640 nanometers, we see that

640 = 0 (eq. 11)

Combining equations 10 and 11, we see that

(Winston's photon's wavelength) = 640 nanometers

This means that this photon – or any other photon that comes from Mr. Churchill – is orange. Therefore Winston Churchill is a bright shade of orange.

To sum up, we have proved, mathematically, that Winston Churchill has no arms, no legs; instead of a head, he has a leafy top; he tapers to a point; and he is bright orange. Clearly, Winston Churchill is a carrot.

--Taken from: Animal, Vegetable, or Minister? By Charles Seife.which is quoted here.

I speak Spanish and American Sign Language with moderate proficiency - my Spanish is getting rusty this year; last summer I was able to keep up with it since I was working with children for whom it was their first language, but I was only able to half-translate the song that Luke sang as a solo for him the other night. ASL I'm still pretty fluent in - I can transliterate songs on the radio from English to ASL, anyway.

I know a few phrases and a couple of songs in French - I can speak and read them but not write. I can generally understand the gist of short written French or Italian, though obviously not the linguistic nuances I so love when I learn of them (I didn't realize this ability applied to Italian until the last couple months, courtesy of the occasional Italian text message from my lovergentleman), and I know enough Latin through its influence on English to be able to determine the meaning and root words of a complex Latin-based English word or technical term, although I couldn't begin to speak Latin.


The one language I am still desperate to learn is Hebrew. Modern, not ancient; I have little interest in translations, but one of my aspirations is to write Hebrew poetry. I think it's a beautiful language. It and Irish Gaelic are up there on my list.

I feel a little guilty for wanting to learn Hebrew more than the language of my origin, especially because there's a resurgence in Irish Gaelic; there's a movement to keep it alive, and it was really interesting to see so much bilingual in Ireland, particularly Dublin and its suburbs. Particularly if I ever live out my dream of living with Izzy (or whoever my firstborn ends up being, or multiple children, or whatev) in Dalkey for a summer or a year or something, it would be great to know both the languages.

Oh man I want to go back to Ireland...I miss it so much. Eh, it looks like my spring break is going to be in Boston. And probably not Portland (ME) as was my intent; I don't want to spend the whole time in Boston, so I'll have to find somewhere else to visit for a day or two that's within reasonable distance by train. It's a shame: Portland was only $48 RT by train; I doubt I'll find any other deal that sweet. But Maine is kind of a weird dream. I have no reason for actually wanting to go there, I just do. And have all my life.

I just flipped to another window, came back and looked at those last four words - "have all my life" - and at first misunderstood the context and thought I was saying "I have all my life [to do these things]", which is true. Nice slip, brain - I've got the time to visit Maine and Ireland with and/or without my far-in-the-future children, and to learn all the languages I can, and to do the things I feel guilty about not being able to do this week because I'm too busy. Whew.

Julie:
Last year, when she was in first grade, Julie talked about John McCain nonstop, wrinkling her nose anytime someone so much as mentioned Obama's name. I usually refrain from talking with the youngest kids at work about politics because - let's face it - they're parroting their parents' opinions, so I'm not going to change their minds and if I did, I'd probably get fired for corrupting the youth. (Or be given the modern equivalent of hemlock?)
But yesterday Julie and I got onto the topic of politics, and one of the topics nearest and dearest to my heart came up - same-sex marriage. I decided to brave onwards, since I'm not blind to a teachable moment when it appears so voluntarily and I'm a little bit bolder than I was a year ago. We're discussing same-sex marriage as it relates to my disagreement with *my* parents, and previously she'd been talking about how she and her mom agreed about things. As I'm talking to her about this, she's wrinkling her nose and giving me funny looks. Finally, she says loudly, "I just don't understand why people think it's okay for straight people to get married but not for gay people."
In that moment, I had such hope for the future that I actually started crying.
(She went to get me a tissue.)

Savannah:
When we used to play Sorry, I'd stack the deck so that she would win. After a while, I realized that she was telling me it was my turn when it wasn't so that I'd win.

Life has taken a very different turn in the past week, although I really don't have the complete facilities of the mind to appreciate the positive changes as much as I should. I'm reluctant to say I know how it will turn out, but I have some smiling hopes for life next semester. I think that's all I'll say for the moment. I think I need to revive my blue-rose icon at this point, because I'm feeling like that. Hmm...

:BenB