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April 28, 2006
Live Blogging My Final SIP Reading and Subequent Eye Gouging
I am pre-reading a SIP before meeting with the student this afternoon, my final SIP to read as the Writing Center Assistant. I am admittedly punchy. The SIP is admittedly rough. Oh boy.
* Disclaimer: this recounting of events is not a slight to the student-author's content or intelligence. It's actually a really interesting paper. The usage of the English language, however, has emerged as a completely autonomous beast, a monster which must be tamed for the sake humanity.
9:15 a.m. Hope springs eternal. Whenever someone says, "I think it's just some small proofreading stuff that needs to be fixed," I believe them. Every time. Foolish.
9:47 a.m.
The older generation's wellbeing could be at stake if there since of community is taken away from them and modern virtual community takes over.
Read quoted sentence five times in an attempt to understand what it meant. Finally realized that "there since" was supposed to be "their sense." Tricky.
10:03 a.m.
In the interpersonal realm technologies have moved interpersonal relationships from face to face relationship with the people who lived or worked close to us, to new electronically mediated relationship were you might never meet or talk face to face and these relationships are with people that could be any were in the world.
I am saving the world one disorientingly clausal sentence at a time.
10:11 a.m.
If you spell "onslaught" as "on slot" there should surely be a Vegas-derived pun floating around as well.
10:37 a.m.
I have jumped to the last ten pages with wild hopes.
10:41 a.m.
I wrote the student a helpful list of words to check for usage. If he were to do a simple "find and replace" for each of these, things might actually be okay.
effecting --> affecting
there --> their
since --> sense
were --> where
use to --> used to
peaces --> pieces
11:00 am.
Inconsistent pronouns are a cruel, cruel trick to play on your reader.
11:06 a.m.
It would be nice if you could just hand a student a jar full of commas and say, "Sprinkle liberally throughout."
11:16 a.m.
It's a little sad when you start reading a sentence and you think you know where it's going and then right when you hit the halfway point some clause gets thrown in there and suddenly it's like you're out in Iowa on Aunt Bessie's pig farm and all the stuff you thought were trees were actually corn or something.
11:20 a.m.
Malapropisms are an error easily forgiven: "We have gone from communities where everyone knew everyone's caricature..."
11:32 a.m.
One of my English Comp students just came by to drop of his portfolio. He was wearing seersucker pants and a t-shirt. This made me happy.
11:39 a.m.
Modernism fell because the Enlightenment started questioning it or modernism fell when the Enlightenment began being questioned? Semantics can make for such fascinating historiographic ambiguity.
11:48 a.m.
My appointment is in 10 minutes. I shall ignore pages 13-19 and instead regroup mentally. Also, I think the Writing Center should have a punctuation spice rack. A bottle of commas, a bottle of colons, a bottle of semi-colons, and a bottle to collect all the extra exclamation points people toss about.
11:53 a.m.
Oh, okay, just one more quote:
Individual freedomand choices are something that emerges as there is no final authority. These changes to postmodernism have effected the character of space globally, publically, and interpersonally. If a country does not believe in objective truth them you get countries were people are willing to kill other and die for causes that are selfish. We are dealing with that today with the terrorist countries.
1:38 p.m.
Reasonably successful conference. Student is under strict orders to lock himself in the bathroom and read pages 13-19 aloud. Grading of 22 freshmen composition portfolios may now commence. Adieu.
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April 26, 2006
Celebrating Food. All Of It.
What with the National Cornbread Festival goin' on this weekend in South Pittsburg, Tennessee, my curiosity was piqued. What other anamolous food festivals should I plan on attending in my lifetime?
Standard festival fare includes the National Buffalo Wing Festival, The Great Wisconsin Cheese Festival, the McClure Bean Soup Festival, and, of course, the time honored Chili Fest.
Should one want to approach food festival hopping with a more limited scope, there's always the slew of nut celebrations. Louisiana has the Pecan Festival, Dothan, Alabama, is home to the Peanut Festival, West Virginia has a Black Walnut Festival, and Oakley has the Almond Festival.
Festivals I will be skipping include: The Chitlin' Strut and the Frog Leg Festival.
Thankfully, there are, indeed, a slew of celebrations that fit my gastronomical-preferences perfectly: The Tofu Fest (slogan: it's hip to be square), the Kona Coffee Fest on the Big Island (highlight: Miss Kona Coffee Pageant), and, of course, The International Rice Festival.
My absolute favorite, though, is the Golden Spurtle World Porridge Making Championship in Carrbridge, Inverness-shire, Scotland, this fall. Let's say that again, shall we? Golden Spurtle. Only personal attendance could possibly assuage this curiousity.
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April 25, 2006
Typecast
One unexpected side effect of working in the Writing Center this year has been the development of an uncanny ability to strongly associate students with their papers. I may not always remember their name, but I will definitely remember the paper. This results in strange, haphazard conceptions of people that I really do not know but may occasionally see again on campus.
That guy. Likes Halo, doesn't like Hume.
Her. Bad experience with spinach as a child.
Oh, him. Doesn't agree with the war in Iraq. Knows how to assemble an electric guitar.
She's from Alabama and is a big Auburn fan.
She likes The Fray.
She worked in a bakery.
He disagrees with Beccaria.
She is a kinesthetic learner.
He thinks that the Netherlands stand a good chance of winning the World Cup.
I'm sure this will come in useful at some point in my life.
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April 24, 2006
My Green Onion Was On Steroids
Last year I planted green onions in our back yard. If this sounds impressive...it wasn't. I just let the leftover ends of store-bought green onions soak in some water to kick-start the roots and then shoved the little guys into the ground.
They've always been hearty fellows. I had a continuous supply of green onions all fall and winter long. Then, earlier this spring, I noticed something unusual: one of the plants was getting bigger. Not just growing new, slender shoots, mind you. He was increasing significantly in height and girth.
At first I wondered... steroids? But I couldn't believe that such a fresh, green thing would dabble in something so dangerous. Then, other things started to happen. His face started to swell; if he had a voice it probably would have started squeaking; other bulges developed.
I tried to talk to it. I tried to tell him that it wasn't worth the personal risk just to be the biggest green onion in the garden. "You weren't meant to be this big," I told him. But he ignored me...and kept growing.
Then, the mood swings started. I woke up one morning and he had tipped dangerously low to the right. I tried to straighten him out, as best I could, but he just overcompensated and swung to the left. I told him he needed to think about seeing a counselor.
It was too late.
Last night, we found him, collapsed, broken by his own unnatural size.
So... then we took a lot of pictures, used roughly one-sixteenth of him in an omelet, and plunked the remaining trunk into a waterbottle. Steroids get you nowhere, kids.
September 2005-April 2006.
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April 21, 2006
SIP Count
I. Definitions
SIP - Stands for "Senior Integration Paper/Project." Usually a twenty to forty page research paper, meant to be the capstone of your academic career at Covenant College. No SIP means no diploma. Given the gravity of the situation, seniors often put their SIPs off until the last possible moment.
Elissa - SIP deconstructor extraordinaire. Favorite question: "So... did you have a thesis in this?"
II. Statistics
Number of SIPs read this semester: 16
Most Oft-Represented Department: Tie. Psychology and Business.
Longest Straight Stint Reading a SIP: Consecutively, three hours. Cumulatively, still counting.
III. Evaluation
The Phrase That Strikes Fear: "I think it's just grammar stuff that needs to be fixed." Always a foreshadowing of worse things to come.
Newest Pet Peeve in Scholarly Papers: ending paragraphs with block quotes.
Most Underused Punctuation Mark: the semi-colon.
Most Ill-used Punctuation Mark: the semi-colon.
Biggest Lesson: never underestimate the organizational power of colored pens.
Posted by elissa at 03:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 19, 2006
Matching Game
This is my brother, the stud. You may have also seen him flipping on trampolines, flipping off cliffs into the ocean, or, occasionally, just, uh, flipping. He only wears covered shoes when the temperature dips into the twenties, he once received second degree burns from boiling oatmeal water, and he enjoys eating oranges in the shower. This man is looking for a car to call his own. The first car, in fact, that he will ever call his own.
Better sisters than I might serve this need by asking my reputable readers to let me know if they are selling a good, reliable car. I, however, am far more intrigued by the idea of finding a car that best matches my brother's singular personality and style.
A Camaro Iroc-Z? In electric blue?
An El Camino SS, jacked up and with a Ronald McDonald paint job?
An old school wood-panel station wagon?
Or an amazingly shady baby blue Volvo?
Don't try to explain. Go with your gut. I think at least one of these makes sense.
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April 18, 2006
On the Inextricable Nature of Cultural Easter Expectations (or) Mean Eggs
As I walked towards our front door yesterday, a flash of neon orange caught my eye. I paused, readjusted my head to ensure that all neurons were continuing to fire properly, and peered into the tumble of green stuff that borders our front walk. Yep, bright orange.
And there. Nearby. Was that a trick of the light or really a smooth, neon green...something? I gingerly pushed through the mix of ornamental grass and stubborn, sticky weeds and pulled out two plastic Easter eggs: one orange, one green.
They felt disappointingly light.
I shook them, just to make sure.
Nope, empty.
The resulting contemplations on this mystery ricocheted shamelessly between rationality and pop culture musings. Empty...not from Noel. Not the Easter Bunny...oh, crap, unless it was the Donnie Darko bunny. That would be awesome. Probably not too great for the neighbors' kids, though. Did they put these eggs here? No, they weren't home for Easter. Passing neighbor on a massive egg hunt? Would they walk all the way up the hill to our house? How about Todd Willison dressed as the Easter bunny as in the Catacomb plays of yore, looking eerily like Donnie Darko. Were Easter bunnies scary to me before I saw that movie? I guess even if there was candy in here it wouldn't be the wisest thing to eat it anyway. Do Ukrainians have Easter bunnies?
I went inside and tried to console myself with a slice of paska. What I really wanted, though, was Easter chocolate.
Unhelpful eggs.
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April 17, 2006
Ta Da
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April 14, 2006
Live Blogging Paska
Noel's family has a strong Ukranian heritage that makes itself known most visibly at Easter. This year marks my first attempt at making the traditional Easter bread and cheese spread by myself. It seemed worthy of record.
Friday, April 14
9:24 a.m.
2.5 lbs of cottage cheese has been straining through cheesecloth overnight. I feel kind of Amish. This is intense.
9:48 a.m.
5 eggs, two cups of sugar, one cup of butter, and one cup of sour cream later, thick substance is waiting to bubble on stove. I am enamored with pale yellow color. Begin scalding milk for bread.
10:06 a.m.
Cheese chilling in fridge. Still aesthetically pleasing. Now worrying about inadvertently killing the yeast.
10:11 a.m.
Yeast is most definitely alive.
10:33 a.m.
Batch #1 finished and rising. Well, at least I hope it's rising. So far, things look and taste similar to what I remember from Easters past. Something's going to wrong soon.
10:47 a.m.
Batch #2 rising. I am emboldened. Dare I make a third?
11:19 a.m.
And, #3. I really thought this was going to be fraught with far more peril.
11:36 a.m.
While the dough rises in a warm, dark place, I instead read in a warm, sunny place.
11:40 a.m.
I just learned that "paska" is a Finnish obscenity. Uncomfortable.
12:18 p.m.
The second round of cheese draining has commenced. Bread shaping will begin shortly.
1:39 p.m.
Note to self: the next time live blogging a baking event, invest in voice recognition software. There was a brief moment of panic when, as I reached the end of the loaf shaping, I realized that I was perilously low on the extra dough needed for decorating purposes. Issue resolved by making very, very thin braids.
Loaves #1 and #2 are in the oven. The little one is "Pavla." I think I'll call the big, high-rising one "Petro."
1:47 p.m.
Lunch Break and Extended Remarks:
Paska bread and cheese are just one part of the lavish Easter meal traditionally prepared by the Russian Orthodox. In their church, Easter is the most important and well-celebrated holiday of the year. As Noel's mom explains it, every dish served on Easter has special significance. After abstaining from meat for forty days of Lent, they break their fast with lamb, ham, and sausages. The lamb, of course, also echoes the sacrificial Passover lamb. A bitter concoction of beets and horserdish serves as a reminder of death's bitterness, but green beans and fresh salad and fruit represent new life.
The paska bread, too, is symbolic. The sweet bread and the cheese are stuffed with white raisins and almonds, rich treats to poor Ukrainians. The round loaves are decorated with two braids (three strands each, representing the Trinity) that form a cross.
And... there goes my timer.
2:01 p.m.
Loaves look promising, now covered with foil to keep the tops from burning.
2:17 p.m.
Brief consultation with mother-in-law. Finished loaves look beautiful, especially after being glazed with an egg wash. Biggest loaves now baking: Ivan and Oksana.
2:25 p.m.
Another Extended Remark:
If it wanted, paska bread could claim responsibility for bringing Noel and I together. During our junior year at Covenant, Paige and her mom came up to preview the school and to visit Noel. Easter had just passed, and so they came bearing paska bread and cheese. While the trio sat in the 2nd South stairwell, partaking of this mini-feast, I happened to walk by, enroute to my room. Noel introduced me to his family, and Paige offered me some bread.
I was amazed. The bread was amazing -- lightly sweet, spiced with cloves, and chocked with raisins and nuts. I had never tasted anything like it.
While I didn't exactly vow at that moment to obtain the recipe for this amazing Easter bread and cheese by whatever means necessary, including marrying into the family-of-amazing-food, my effusive praise of the stuff evidently made an impression on Paige. She subsequently decided that I was supposed to be her sister-in-law and spent the next two years assisting Providence in that endeavor.
2:37 p.m.
Great relief at the painless removal of first loaves from respective pans.
2:46 p.m.
Ivan and Oksana are out. Weeny loaf is in.
3:20 p.m.
All loaves are cooling and my kitchen is beginning to resemble its former clean self. Now to see if Noel approves...
4:11 p.m.
I send a cell phone photo of some of the loaves to my sister-in-law. My mother-in-law calls me back with encouraging praise. Huzzah!
4:17 p.m.
Noel wholeheartedly approves of the appearance of Petro and Pavla, but suggests that a longer cooking time may have resulted in a deeper color for Weeny, Oksana, and Ivan. Ah well, better golden than burnt. Taste gets a thumbs up, though. I am *so* Ukrainian.
6:54 p.m.
The cheese has finished straining and been transferred to smaller bowls to chill further.
And we're spent. Whew. Lovely, delicious bread to eat and to give away? I think I can be Ukrainian once a year.
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April 13, 2006
In Praise of Small Biceps
As some recent referals to this blog revealed, Google-imaging for "skinny woman" (sans quotes) and digging through three pages will lead you right back here. Better yet, Google-imaging for "skinny arms" (sans quotes) has my picture on the first page of results.
I mean, let's be frank. They didn't nickname me "Steamroller" for nothing.
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April 12, 2006
Avoiding Sentimentality by Coming Inside
"No Greater Love," Hahlbohm
"Crucifixion," Rembrandt
Evangelicals at Easter are prime targets for sentimentality. In some ways, it's understandable. After all, how many pastel eggs and impressionist paintings of glorious sunrises can a man really endure without his internal aesthetic decomposing into the stuff of marshmallow Peeps?
In his second talk at the Wheaton Theology Conference on Theology and the Arts, Jeremy Begbie outlined three tenets of sentimentality in art. First, sentimental art misrepresents reality by evading or minimizing evil. Innocence is projected onto reality. Second, such images are emotionally self-indulgent, exercising emotion for the sake of emotion (see Kundera on "kitsch"), cocooning the viewer and making him unable to engage another's pain. Third, sentimental art avoids appropriate costly action. The sentimentalist wants emotion without the cost, but, by dealing only with generalities, he is forced to resort to banalities. An ocean sunset landscape with three translucent crosses hovering above the horizon eviscerates the horror of the crucifxion. It downplays the disfigured to embrace the warm peace of love secured, erasing any need for action. The figure sits, bathed in the golden light.
When it comes to Holy Week, part of our difficulty may lie in the fact that we rarely force ourselves to experience the days leading up to Easter from an "inside" perspective. We need to let Maundy Thursday confuse us. Friday should -- for a time -- be painful and broken, not "good." Saturday should weigh heavily. And, then, Easter morning's shock of joy is just that: an irrational, inconceivable surprise, an excess of grace vanquishing evil.
An "inside" perspective of Easter week guards us against the indulgence of sentimentality. "This is how God's idiocy outstrips man's wisdom," says Begbie. In Rembrandt's "Crucifixion" etching, the light exposes -- not softens or alleviates or romanticizes in a rosy hue -- the painful event. Rembrandt sparks agitated hurt, not serene reflection. He sets the viewer down in the ugliest of moments, refusing to assuage -- yet -- with promises of peace. After such a display of depravity, the resurrection does not erase pain. It confirms pain. Perhaps, Begbie says, by deferring our gratification, by extending the tension, by living inside Easter week, the power of promise will be rediscovered, and easy sentimentality will give way to the active work true redemption demands.
--- edit ----
Click here for a bigger version of Rembrandt's etching.
Posted by elissa at 01:31 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
April 10, 2006
Chicago Seen, Heard, and Eaten
Things seen:
And, ironically, given the conference subject:
Oh boy.
(The best sight, though, was seeing our dear friends Dustin and Annie.)
Things heard:
- Father Edward T. Oakes on Balthasar and beauty as the starting point for apologetics
- Jim Fodor on reading Scripture as both a cognitive and aesthetic craft
- Makoto Fujimura on beauty springing from a recognition of what is lost
- Bruce Herman on recognizing the beauty in the still-broken but glorified body of Christ
- Jeremy Begbie playing Bach and Chopin
- Artie Terry on how movies work psychologically and physiologically
- Roy Anker on the capacity of film to display the "sacred spaces wherein God shows up"
- E. John Walford on the art historical perspective of beauty in the transformation of the disfigured
- Justin Borger and myself saying "Neo-Platonic" with alarming regularity
Things eaten:
- Vietnamese-Chinese shrimp broccoli stir fry
- homemade ramen bowls with chicken vegetable shumai
- assorted wonders at an Indian all-you-can-eat buffet
- "Pots o' Gold" at an Irish pub
- bacon, cheese, mushroom, and spinach stuffed crepes with poppyseed dressing
- Earl de la Creme tea
deep dish pizza
Posted by elissa at 01:59 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
April 05, 2006
Tipsy
I've been rewriting other people's sentences and lack the energy to form my own. Bah. It's time to go look at and talk about some art. With theology sprinkles. In Wheaton. Huzzah.
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