The Myth & The Majesty

Okay, okay, okay. I'll get back to my "travel log" eventually. Not that I have a bunch of people chomping at the bit to read about it, but for history's sake it'll all end up posted eventually. I've had the attention span of a manic squirrel all day today (think Hammy from "Over The Hedge") which mostly means I've started a lot of things but finished nothing. As a consequence, I have a lot of clean-but-still-wet laundry, half a Perspectives lesson finished, two half-written blogs, garbage that hasn't been taken out, non-perishable groceries still in the bags, a sewing project still on the machine, and a dishwasher filled with clean dishes that haven't gotten put away. Oh, and I'm going to go tubing in half an hour, so there's no way any of that's getting finished until at least nine tonight. Sheesh. Problematic.

The Anya Story In July of 2005, I went to Russia to help with an English language camp just outside St. Petersburg. During this camp, the American students were all put in rooms with two or three Russian students. For the first week of the camp, I was rooming with Anya, Tanya, and Anfisa. At the end of that week, Anfisa left and Tanya tag-teamed with her friend and coworker Sasha. Anya -- lucky her -- was the only roommate who got to put up with me for the whole of the camp. I was possibly the luckiest of the American students; all of my roommates had a pretty good grasp on English, and they were all rather friendly girls. Anya, Tanya, and Sasha were all great friends from university and actually lived together during the school year; they let me into their group surprisingly easily, much to my delight. And, oddly enough, we were nearly inseparable during the whole of the camp. Goodbyes were bittersweet; I had no idea if I would ever see those girls again. As luck would h

I can only tell you about the last week in stages. There is no way for me to get the whole thing in one comprehensive post, nor do I have any desire to try. So first, an overall view: Last Wednesday morning (the 18th), I flew out of the massive Central Wisconsin Airport (six gates and no one knows why) at 10:10. After several hours in Detroit, I then flew on to Heathrow, getting there at 7AM London time. Next, after an adventure on the Tube, I hopped on a train and headed west to Bath, where I did some sightseeing and slept. (I had been up for about 30 hours by the time I crashed.) The following day (Friday), I hopped on a train again and headed to Derby, where the wedding was. A lot happened besides the wedding, but that'll all come later. Monday morning, I said my goodbyes and headed back to the train station. I was in London around 1:30 and navigated the Tube again, getting to my hotel around 2:30. Did a little sightseeing and crashed again. The next day -- Tu

Home! After what ended up being about 17 hours of planes, trains, and automobiles, I'm finally home and relaxing. My week in England was in all respects absolutely phenomenal. Alas, it was also quite exhausting. Add to that the fact that my body is convinced that it's midnight and you'll just have to wait for the stories. Yeah, I'm sure your hearts are breaking. (*Snort.*) Anyway! I'll be back in blogging mode soon, I'm sure. Right now I intend to eat (who knew a week out of the country would make me crave ... Chinese food. Odd) and then sleep a lot before work tomorrow. Take it easy, all!

Rows of trees in a city park, September 2008.

Nice guys finish last... A conversation about a week ago with one of my more outspoken friends got me thinking -- as conversations with this individual often do. The topic this time? Nice Guys. I am not friends with a lot of Nice Guys. Good Guys, yes. Slightly Blemished But Still Good Guys, definitely. But Nice Guys? Not a whole lot of them around. My Definition There's a stigma with the label of Nice Guy, and in my mind I know why. Nice Guy implies a certain blandness. Nice Guys will buy you dinner but not offer inspiring conversation (or none at all). Nice Guys are dependable but don't give you their opinion. Women are comfortable with Nice Guys but don't necessarily think of them much after the date. As I said -- I'm not friends with many Nice Guys. Heck, I've only met a few of them over the years. There aren't a lot of true Nice Guys once you hit the real world. "Nice" is a write-off, a non-statement, much as the word "fine" when someone

Continental breakfast at the Stevens-Downs wedding, June 2008. (Not mine, though ... Bananas make me queasy.)

I am accounting's best friend right now. We're under a lot of pressure from corporate to cut down on overhead, including held over vacation time. Since I've only been here for two years, I don't have a lot of that to play with, but there's still potential for carryover. However, three minutes with the calendar and I can use three weeks of vacation, thereby getting myself into the necessary "safe" zone for vacation to carry. Two long-distance weddings, three holidays, one graduation, and a half day already used for sick time and I'm close. I don't know if I've ever known this much about vacations this far in advance. It's a little alarming. Handy, though. So it's one of those crazy days -- something I've had a lot of lately thanks to a certain project and other events -- and I'm not totally certain what I'm running on anymore. I'm low on food at home so my meals have been ... Well, I think the best word is &qu

This whole week is just sliding out from underneath me.

"I am determined that nothing but the deepest love could ever induce me into matrimony. And so I shall end an old maid..." -Lizzy Bennett, "Pride and Prejudice" (1995) I have a deep abiding love for Jane Austen, one that's only getting stronger as I learn more about life in general. That line was not in the book -- she wouldn't have dreamt of writing it. That went against all common thought about marriage at the time she was writing her books, and saying something like that outright would have surely limited the number of people who accepted her as a serious author. [I digress. Another post for another day.] But in the movie? It's a great line. And I can't help but identify with it. What I Really Think About Love There is no shortage of love in my life -- at least of the "pure" form, the non-romantic form. As a general rule, that is how I have come to prefer it. I am very, very good at being single. And quite comfortable with it. My family?

It could be argued that I am quickly losing my mind. This has been a truly crazy month, and it's about to get even crazier. All the same, it has also been the most productive month I've had since college, so as crazy as it's been, I've felt pretty darn good about it. Time to finish part 4 -- and then get on with the craziness. Have a good night, folks!

About nine months ago, I started a series of posts. Alas, like my friend Katie, I am a poor series-poster; when I claim I will post about something, I quickly become bored with the idea. However, this being the weekend of Valentine's Day, I thought I could continue with my thoughts on love. Brace yourself for some more honesty than I usually give about my own relationships. My Own Somewhat Boring History When I was in high school, I did not date. It was that simple. Some of it was choice (I liked guys but was deathly afraid of them) and some of it was the cruelty of high school (I was the smart girl that everybody got along with but no guy would consider dating). In retrospect, I wasn't really missing much, except the chance to call someone my high school sweetheart. Shucks. When college started, I found myself a commodity in an engineering school -- I was female. I was confident (after that first awkward week). I wasn't going to Tech to meet men. And I had a sense of humor

Today's Yahoo! Horoscope for Taurus: A new beginning is coming in an old relationship, and you should start to feel it before the end of the day. This is a good time to reach out to this person and suggest an intimate and casual outing. The two of you could use some uninterrupted quiet time to catch up and create new plans for the future together. The balance between you two has shifted, and they are ready to let you take more control. They recognize the changes in you, and want to show you the changes they've made. ----- Um ... What?

This post contains a lot more detailed information than usual and is, in fact, supplemental to a previous post of mine . Read this new post if you're interested in learning where to trim. The moral of the story is: research, research, research. The other moral is to not give away your moral before people have heard the story. I obviously ignored that one. I decided to do some number crunching today. (Imagine that -- me opting to crunch numbers. Who'da thunk it.) It didn't take long for me to realize that a) I am my mother's daughter, and b) that makes going on vacation much more affordable. When I started thinking about going to England, I budgeted a fair chunk of change, figuring for a huge plane ticket, a train pass for the week, and six nights in a hotel. I had no idea what to truly expect when it first occurred to me that I could actually take this trip. Then the whittling process started. I waited to buy my plane ticket ... First, because the stic

I do a fair amount of traveling. For pleasure, that is. I'm just far enough away from most of my friends that my preferred method of travel is usually by plane (plus that's a lot more comfortable if you're on your own); I take road trips when weekends permit; I usually go back to my parents' place for holidays. That being said, I'd like to think I'm pretty good at catching all the necessary details. How to get there, where I'm staying, if I need to find alternate transportation once I'm there (my trips to Rapid City usually get a bit complicated) -- and to be honest, that's oddly fun to me. Figuring out the details. Putting the trip "map" together. In a short time, I'll be headed to England for a wedding. My friend Anya from Russia is getting married in England -- and I get to go. That's pretty awesome. The interesting part right this moment? Flying there. Taking a train from London to Bath (Jane Austen central!). Finding a hotel in

... of Wausau greeted me this morning with very little fanfare -- mostly just a soft, squishy noise. I stepped foot out the door and wondered why I had bothered with a coat. It was mystifying. That's right, we've hit that inevitable "unseasonably warm" phase of winter-spring. A week of frigid cold, a week of average temps, a week of warm ... This means that next it'll get cold, just cold enough to turn those newly formed puddles into slick sheets of treacherous ice waiting for an unsuspecting runner -- or an unsuspecting half-yuppie in almost-dress shoes. (That would be me.) Oh, the things to look forward to. In the meantime, that fifteen or so inches of complete snow cover we have is quickly being reduced to a couple of inches of snow and about an inch of dirt. And as much as that frustrates me, this means that we're only a few weeks away from brilliant greens and flower buds. I am a little concerned for the ice fishing village in the middle of the

When I lived on the other side of town, I was in to work by 7:45 every day. When I moved -- and was now living closer to work -- that start time started to creep into the 8:00 realm. Then all the way up to 8:30. Alas, that means I don't usually get out of here until five or so. And I'm kind of tired of that. Plus when I stay late, I stay really really late. The last three days or so I've been getting in a little earlier; with any luck, this trend with continue. There are enough things going on -- far too much to be done -- and I'm wasting too much time sleeping instead. This is the first time in my memory that I've had a problem with sleeping too much.

I have a problem. I tend to feel responsible for other people enjoying themselves in social situations. It's not that I want to entertain them necessarily, nor do I want to try to quell other people's behavior. It's more  of a management thing; if I can tell that someone's not comfortable or not happy, I'll try to do what I can to fix it. A lot of the time it's as simple as steering someone in another direction or striking up a conversation. The catch is that, if I'm aware of such an issue, I have a hard time relaxing and enjoying myself. What's more, when it's brought to my attention after the fact, I feel guilty about not having tried to fix the situation. I can't decide if this is a simple acceptance of not being able to please everybody all the time (since I'm not that delusional I don't think that's it) or just learning to relax and let things be what they are. Whatever it is I need to do, I need to do it soon. I thin

As much as I dislike the holiday, I give it way too much press. I know this. I also know that I loved it when I was much younger -- so there's some conflict there. Here's the thing: like so many things, the thought behind Valentine's Day is good. It's a day set aside for love, for recognizing and encouraging romance. That’s a great idea. Alas, like so many things, that thought has been twisted. You want to talk about commercialism? About the wrong things being blown out of proportion? Holy cow. This is one holiday where I am, in a lot of ways, relieved to be single. Because, believe it or not, it's almost harder to be a woman in a relationship wanting things equal on V-Day than it is to be single on V-Day. Granted, there are a lot of women who don’t necessarily want things equal (it could easily be called "Girlfriends' Day"), but for the rest of us it can be a tremendous chore. I digress! This is supposed to be about surviving Valentine's

Considering that by 10:00 yesterday I felt as though I'd been mugged, today is going well. Or at least going okay. I'll take okay. My day is half over. This is the point in the day when the office gets quiet, people leave to run errands, anyone taking a half day disappears altogether -- lunch is a good time around here. I used to eat lunch with the Cool Table crowd; that was my chance to be loud and social. A few months back I stopped, chiefly because a project had hit the fan and I was working straight through lunch a lot more. That habit hasn't completely died. My lunch breaks now are ... different. Sometimes they aren't actually breaks. Sometimes I work through a normal lunch time and take a break later; sometimes I want to get out of here earlier and keep working. When I do take a break, I usually stay at my desk, eat random leftovers, and get caught up on blogs and the news. Today is no exception. Leftover steak bites, crackers and hummus, a Pepsi. A s

PW's steak bites , homemade guacamole, and a London travel book. Tonight is a night for me.

Twelve Thoughts About The Last Twenty-Four Hours 1. Yesterday was, hands down, the most interesting Super Bowl I've ever watched. Even the commercials were better. [That being said, I would like to announce my re-retirement from the sport ...] 2. My sister is a nutcase. 3. There are things I've seen that I now consider fairly commonplace -- but aren't, really. Like Mt. Rushmore. And the Sturgis Bike Rally. 4. I am not a decorator, but I do an okay job of faking it. 5. I am the very model of a modern major general. 6. "Soft" frost is a welcome change of pace over the rock solid, formed-when-the-temperature-dropped-below-zero variety we've had for the last month. 7. Sophie looks pretty darn good when she's just been washed. 8. I am one of the guys. Nothing quite brings that home like being the only girl at a Super Bowl party ... especially when you don't realize it until the second quarter. 9. I should clean my apartment much mo

I should have brought my coffee just for this car wash line Apple tree. And polka music. Frogs can’t swallow with their eyes open. Identity crisis. Moribund vampire? And pink vinyl siding. Great Caesar’s ghost! Sweet cracker sandwich? We’re about to eat. And purest Carpathian wood. Groceries and bookshelves. And so am I ... About to eat, that is. A man, a plan, a canal, Panama. Be all you can be. Was it a rat I saw? No, that was your uncle’s ferret. Racecar? Remote control killer bunny rabbits. Not a ton. That’s a relief. Your standard donkey can’t handle that much. To be or roebot? By those standards, you could skin a cat. Dammit I’m mad. My dear Watson, there’s no need for such language. Evil is a deed as I live. Indeed. And good only comes in soft colors. Do geese see God? Depends on how they feel about mallards. Murder for a jar of red rum. A little larceny for some cheap vodka. Some men interpret nine memos. And some pr

Today's Yahoo! Horoscope: If you're feeling bored with life, the reason could be that there's no wiggle room. You've done such a good job of getting organized and putting everything into its place that you forgot to leave room for disruption! It might seem illogical to schedule in free time, but this could be the only way to ensure that your life always has a few question marks in it. And it's in those question marks that adventure lies! So make sure you always have a couple hours to go exploring. Wine, Cheese & all that Jazz was great. I am, however, lacking in photos. You'll have to use your imagination. Keywords: wine (lots of it), cheese (some), jazz (more than the cheese), Boys & Girls Club, fundraising auctions (silent and live), 750 area residents dressed in their cocktail party best. As an admitted consequence of the wine part of the evening, I was feeling a bit under the weather (mind you, I get a hangover from a single glass of wine -- I don