"There Are Very Few Monsters Who Warrant the Fear We Have of Them" ~ Andre Gide

I heart Halloween. It is beautiful and warm outside. I spent two hours this afternoon sitting outside reading. I might have to break out the camera and take some pictures.

I've already watched one Buffy Halloween episode, I may have to get to at least one more before the night is over.

Yesterday, work sucked. There were mad lines, no one responded to my call for assistance, I broke a huge serving plate and a grumpy old man yelled at me. Also, the overall manager of the store ordered from me. She made a large order and I mischarged her for one of the drinks. She was very nice about it, but it's the general idea. I screwed up in front of the biggest "man."

On the plus side, I was allowed to to wear my costume, which included black feathered wings and a matching halo.
Two people asked where I got it. I don't think the answer of "Michigan" was overly helpful, but I'm sure any seasonal costume shop would have what they needed.
A number of people also called me cute. I resisted the urge to yell, "I'm a dark angel! I'm evil!!!! Evil!!!!"
Only one man gave me a weird look.
Oh, and one twenty-something guy mentioned needing to get off the LSD when he first saw me.



Sigh. Looking at the coming weeks, I'm going to have a lot of painful time consuming homework. We don't wants to do any of it. We wants to slack.



John Keats - Lamia
Part 1
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
Before King Oberon's bright diadem,
Sceptre, and mantle, clasp'd with dewy gem,
Frighted away the Dryads and the Fauns
From rushes green, and brakes, and cowslip'd lawns,
The ever-smitten Hermes empty left
His golden throne, bent warm on amorous theft:
From high Olympus had he stolen light,
On this side of Jove's clouds, to escape the sight
Of his great summoner, and made retreat
Into a forest on the shores of Crete.
For somewhere in that sacred island dwelt
A nymph, to whom all hoofed Satyrs knelt;
At whose white feet the languid Tritons poured
Pearls, while on land they wither'd and adored.
Fast by the springs where she to bathe was wont,
And in those meads where sometime she might haunt,
Were strewn rich gifts, unknown to any Muse,
Though Fancy's casket were unlock'd to choose.
Ah, what a world of love was at her feet!
So Hermes thought, and a celestial heat
Burnt from his winged heels to either ear,
That from a whiteness, as the lily clear,
Blush'd into roses 'mid his golden hair,
Fallen in jealous curls about his shoulders bare.
From vale to vale, from wood to wood, he flew,
Breathing upon the flowers his passion new,
And wound with many a river to its head,
To find where this sweet nymph prepar'd her secret bed:
In vain; the sweet nymph might nowhere be found,
And so he rested, on the lonely ground,
Pensive, and full of painful jealousies
Of the Wood-Gods, and even the very trees.
There as he stood, he heard a mournful voice,
Such as once heard, in gentle heart, destroys
All pain but pity: thus the lone voice spake:
"When from this wreathed tomb shall I awake!
When move in a sweet body fit for life,
And love, and pleasure, and the ruddy strife
Of hearts and lips! Ah, miserable me!"
The God, dove-footed, glided silently
Round bush and tree, soft-brushing, in his speed,
The taller grasses and full-flowering weed,
Until he found a palpitating snake,
Bright, and cirque-couchant in a dusky brake.
She was a gordian shape of dazzling hue,
Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue;
Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard,
Eyed like a peacock, and all crimson barr'd;
And full of silver moons, that, as she breathed,
Dissolv'd, or brighter shone, or interwreathed
Their lustres with the gloomier tapestries -
So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries,
She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf,
Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire
Sprinkled with stars, like Ariadne's tiar:
Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!
She had a woman's mouth with all its pearls complete:
And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there
But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?
As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love's sake,
And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
"Fair Hermes, crown'd with feathers, fluttering light,
I had a splendid dream of thee last night:
I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,
Among the Gods, upon Olympus old,
The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
The soft, lute-finger'd Muses chaunting clear,
Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
Deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan.
I dreamt I saw thee, robed in purple flakes,
Break amorous through the clouds, as morning breaks,
And, swiftly as a bright Phoebean dart,
Strike for the Cretan isle; and here thou art!
Too gentle Hermes, hast thou found the maid?"
Whereat the star of Lethe not delay'd
His rosy eloquence, and thus inquired:
"Thou smooth-lipp'd serpent, surely high inspired!
Thou beauteous wreath, with melancholy eyes,
Possess whatever bliss thou canst devise,
Telling me only where my nymph is fled, -
Where she doth breathe!" "Bright planet, thou hast said,"
Return'd the snake, "but seal with oaths, fair God!"
"I swear," said Hermes, "by my serpent rod,
And by thine eyes, and by thy starry crown!"
Light flew his earnest words, among the blossoms blown.
Then thus again the brilliance feminine:
"Too frail of heart! for this lost nymph of thine,
Free as the air, invisibly, she strays
About these thornless wilds; her pleasant days
She tastes unseen; unseen her nimble feet
Leave traces in the grass and flowers sweet;
From weary tendrils, and bow'd branches green,
She plucks the fruit unseen, she bathes unseen:
And by my power is her beauty veil'd
To keep it unaffronted, unassail'd
By the love-glances of unlovely eyes,
Of Satyrs, Fauns, and blear'd Silenus' sighs.
Pale grew her immortality, for woe
Of all these lovers, and she grieved so
I took compassion on her, bade her steep
Her hair in weird syrops, that would keep
Her loveliness invisible, yet free
To wander as she loves, in liberty.
Thou shalt behold her, Hermes, thou alone,
If thou wilt, as thou swearest, grant my boon!"
Then, once again, the charmed God began
An oath, and through the serpent's ears it ran
Warm, tremulous, devout, psalterian.
Ravish'd, she lifted her Circean head,
Blush'd a live damask, and swift-lisping said,
"I was a woman, let me have once more
A woman's shape, and charming as before.
I love a youth of Corinth - O the bliss!
Give me my woman's form, and place me where he is.
Stoop, Hermes, let me breathe upon thy brow,
And thou shalt see thy sweet nymph even now."
The God on half-shut feathers sank serene,
She breath'd upon his eyes, and swift was seen
Of both the guarded nymph near-smiling on the green.
It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
One warm, flush'd moment, hovering, it might seem
Dash'd by the wood-nymph's beauty, so he burn'd;
Then, lighting on the printless verdure, turn'd
To the swoon'd serpent, and with languid arm,
Delicate, put to proof the lythe Caducean charm.
So done, upon the nymph his eyes he bent,
Full of adoring tears and blandishment,
And towards her stept: she, like a moon in wane,
Faded before him, cower'd, nor could restrain
Her fearful sobs, self-folding like a flower
That faints into itself at evening hour:
But the God fostering her chilled hand,
She felt the warmth, her eyelids open'd bland,
And, like new flowers at morning song of bees,
Bloom'd, and gave up her honey to the lees.
Into the green-recessed woods they flew;
Nor grew they pale, as mortal lovers do.
Left to herself, the serpent now began
To change; her elfin blood in madness ran,
Her mouth foam'd, and the grass, therewith besprent,
Wither'd at dew so sweet and virulent;
Her eyes in torture fix'd, and anguish drear,
Hot, glaz'd, and wide, with lid-lashes all sear,
Flash'd phosphor and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear.
The colours all inflam'd throughout her train,
She writh'd about, convuls'd with scarlet pain:
A deep volcanian yellow took the place
Of all her milder-mooned body's grace;
And, as the lava ravishes the mead,
Spoilt all her silver mail, and golden brede;
Made gloom of all her frecklings, streaks and bars,
Eclips'd her crescents, and lick'd up her stars:
So that, in moments few, she was undrest
Of all her sapphires, greens, and amethyst,
And rubious-argent: of all these bereft,
Nothing but pain and ugliness were left.
Still shone her crown; that vanish'd, also she
Melted and disappear'd as suddenly;
And in the air, her new voice luting soft,
Cried, "Lycius! gentle Lycius!" - Borne aloft
With the bright mists about the mountains hoar
These words dissolv'd: Crete's forests heard no more.
Whither fled Lamia, now a lady bright,
A full-born beauty new and exquisite?
She fled into that valley they pass o'er
Who go to Corinth from Cenchreas' shore;
And rested at the foot of those wild hills,
The rugged founts of the Peraean rills,
And of that other ridge whose barren back
Stretches, with all its mist and cloudy rack,
South-westward to Cleone. There she stood
About a young bird's flutter from a wood,
Fair, on a sloping green of mossy tread,
By a clear pool, wherein she passioned
To see herself escap'd from so sore ills,
While her robes flaunted with the daffodils.
Ah, happy Lycius! - for she was a maid
More beautiful than ever twisted braid,
Or sigh'd, or blush'd, or on spring-flowered lea
Spread a green kirtle to the minstrelsy:
A virgin purest lipp'd, yet in the lore
Of love deep learned to the red heart's core:
Not one hour old, yet of sciential brain
To unperplex bliss from its neighbour pain;
Define their pettish limits, and estrange
Their points of contact, and swift counterchange;
Intrigue with the specious chaos, and dispart
Its most ambiguous atoms with sure art;
As though in Cupid's college she had spent
Sweet days a lovely graduate, still unshent,
And kept his rosy terms in idle languishment.
Why this fair creature chose so fairily
By the wayside to linger, we shall see;
But first 'tis fit to tell how she could muse
And dream, when in the serpent prison-house,
Of all she list, strange or magnificent:
How, ever, where she will'd, her spirit went;
Whether to faint Elysium, or where
Down through tress-lifting waves the Nereids fair
Wind into Thetis' bower by many a pearly stair;
Or where God Bacchus drains his cups divine,
Stretch'd out, at ease, beneath a glutinous pine;
Or where in Pluto's gardens palatine
Mulciber's columns gleam in far piazzian line.
And sometimes into cities she would send
Her dream, with feast and rioting to blend;
And once, while among mortals dreaming thus,
She saw the young Corinthian Lycius
Charioting foremost in the envious race,
Like a young Jove with calm uneager face,
And fell into a swooning love of him.
Now on the moth-time of that evening dim
He would return that way, as well she knew,
To Corinth from the shore; for freshly blew
The eastern soft wind, and his galley now
Grated the quaystones with her brazen prow
In port Cenchreas, from Egina isle
Fresh anchor'd; whither he had been awhile
To sacrifice to Jove, whose temple there
Waits with high marble doors for blood and incense rare.
Jove heard his vows, and better'd his desire;
For by some freakful chance he made retire
From his companions, and set forth to walk,
Perhaps grown wearied of their Corinth talk:
Over the solitary hills he fared,
Thoughtless at first, but ere eve's star appeared
His phantasy was lost, where reason fades,
In the calm'd twilight of Platonic shades.
Lamia beheld him coming, near, more near -
Close to her passing, in indifference drear,
His silent sandals swept the mossy green;
So neighbour'd to him, and yet so unseen
She stood: he pass'd, shut up in mysteries,
His mind wrapp'd like his mantle, while her eyes
Follow'd his steps, and her neck regal white
Turn'd - syllabling thus, "Ah, Lycius bright,
And will you leave me on the hills alone?
Lycius, look back! and be some pity shown."
He did; not with cold wonder fearingly,
But Orpheus-like at an Eurydice;
For so delicious were the words she sung,
It seem'd he had lov'd them a whole summer long:
And soon his eyes had drunk her beauty up,
Leaving no drop in the bewildering cup,
And still the cup was full, - while he afraid
Lest she should vanish ere his lip had paid
Due adoration, thus began to adore;
Her soft look growing coy, she saw his chain so sure:
"Leave thee alone! Look back! Ah, Goddess, see
Whether my eyes can ever turn from thee!
For pity do not this sad heart belie -
Even as thou vanishest so I shall die.
Stay! though a Naiad of the rivers, stay!
To thy far wishes will thy streams obey:
Stay! though the greenest woods be thy domain,
Alone they can drink up the morning rain:
Though a descended Pleiad, will not one
Of thine harmonious sisters keep in tune
Thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine?
So sweetly to these ravish'd ears of mine
Came thy sweet greeting, that if thou shouldst fade
Thy memory will waste me to a shade -
For pity do not melt!" - "If I should stay,"
Said Lamia, "here, upon this floor of clay,
And pain my steps upon these flowers too rough,
What canst thou say or do of charm enough
To dull the nice remembrance of my home?
Thou canst not ask me with thee here to roam
Over these hills and vales, where no joy is, -
Empty of immortality and bliss!
Thou art a scholar, Lycius, and must know
That finer spirits cannot breathe below
In human climes, and live: Alas! poor youth,
What taste of purer air hast thou to soothe
My essence? What serener palaces,
Where I may all my many senses please,
And by mysterious sleights a hundred thirsts appease?
It cannot be - Adieu!" So said, she rose
Tiptoe with white arms spread. He, sick to lose
The amorous promise of her lone complain,
Swoon'd, murmuring of love, and pale with pain.
The cruel lady, without any show
Of sorrow for her tender favourite's woe,
But rather, if her eyes could brighter be,
With brighter eyes and slow amenity,
Put her new lips to his, and gave afresh
The life she had so tangled in her mesh:
And as he from one trance was wakening
Into another, she began to sing,
Happy in beauty, life, and love, and every thing,
A song of love, too sweet for earthly lyres,
While, like held breath, the stars drew in their panting fires
And then she whisper'd in such trembling tone,
As those who, safe together met alone
For the first time through many anguish'd days,
Use other speech than looks; bidding him raise
His drooping head, and clear his soul of doubt,
For that she was a woman, and without
Any more subtle fluid in her veins
Than throbbing blood, and that the self-same pains
Inhabited her frail-strung heart as his.
And next she wonder'd how his eyes could miss
Her face so long in Corinth, where, she said,
She dwelt but half retir'd, and there had led
Days happy as the gold coin could invent
Without the aid of love; yet in content
Till she saw him, as once she pass'd him by,
Where 'gainst a column he leant thoughtfully
At Venus' temple porch, 'mid baskets heap'd
Of amorous herbs and flowers, newly reap'd
Late on that eve, as 'twas the night before
The Adonian feast; whereof she saw no more,
But wept alone those days, for why should she adore?
Lycius from death awoke into amaze,
To see her still, and singing so sweet lays;
Then from amaze into delight he fell
To hear her whisper woman's lore so well;
And every word she spake entic'd him on
To unperplex'd delight and pleasure known.
Let the mad poets say whate'er they please
Of the sweets of Fairies, Peris, Goddesses,
There is not such a treat among them all,
Haunters of cavern, lake, and waterfall,
As a real woman, lineal indeed
From Pyrrha's pebbles or old Adam's seed.
Thus gentle Lamia judg'd, and judg'd aright,
That Lycius could not love in half a fright,
So threw the goddess off, and won his heart
More pleasantly by playing woman's part,
With no more awe than what her beauty gave,
That, while it smote, still guaranteed to save.
Lycius to all made eloquent reply,
Marrying to every word a twinborn sigh;
And last, pointing to Corinth, ask'd her sweet,
If 'twas too far that night for her soft feet.
The way was short, for Lamia's eagerness
Made, by a spell, the triple league decrease
To a few paces; not at all surmised
By blinded Lycius, so in her comprized.
They pass'd the city gates, he knew not how
So noiseless, and he never thought to know.
As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all,
Throughout her palaces imperial,
And all her populous streets and temples lewd,
Mutter'd, like tempest in the distance brew'd,
To the wide-spreaded night above her towers.
Men, women, rich and poor, in the cool hours,
Shuffled their sandals o'er the pavement white,
Companion'd or alone; while many a light
Flared, here and there, from wealthy festivals,
And threw their moving shadows on the walls,
Or found them cluster'd in the corniced shade
Of some arch'd temple door, or dusky colonnade.
Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear,
Her fingers he press'd hard, as one came near
With curl'd gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown,
Slow-stepp'd, and robed in philosophic gown:
Lycius shrank closer, as they met and past,
Into his mantle, adding wings to haste,
While hurried Lamia trembled: "Ah," said he,
"Why do you shudder, love, so ruefully?
Why does your tender palm dissolve in dew?" -
"I'm wearied," said fair Lamia: "tell me who
Is that old man? I cannot bring to mind
His features - Lycius! wherefore did you blind
Yourself from his quick eyes?" Lycius replied,
'Tis Apollonius sage, my trusty guide
And good instructor; but to-night he seems
The ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams.
While yet he spake they had arrived before
A pillar'd porch, with lofty portal door,
Where hung a silver lamp, whose phosphor glow
Reflected in the slabbed steps below,
Mild as a star in water; for so new,
And so unsullied was the marble hue,
So through the crystal polish, liquid fine,
Ran the dark veins, that none but feet divine
Could e'er have touch'd there. Sounds Aeolian
Breath'd from the hinges, as the ample span
Of the wide doors disclos'd a place unknown
Some time to any, but those two alone,
And a few Persian mutes, who that same year
Were seen about the markets: none knew where
They could inhabit; the most curious
Were foil'd, who watch'd to trace them to their house:
And but the flitter-winged verse must tell,
For truth's sake, what woe afterwards befel,
'Twould humour many a heart to leave them thus,
Shut from the busy world of more incredulous.
Part 2
love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is - Love, forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust;
Love in a palace is perhaps at last
More grievous torment than a hermit's fast -
That is a doubtful tale from faery land,
Hard for the non-elect to understand.
Had Lycius liv'd to hand his story down,
He might have given the moral a fresh frown,
Or clench'd it quite: but too short was their bliss
To breed distrust and hate, that make the soft voice hiss.
Besides, there, nightly, with terrific glare,
Love, jealous grown of so complete a pair,
Hover'd and buzz'd his wings, with fearful roar,
Above the lintel of their chamber door,
And down the passage cast a glow upon the floor.
For all this came a ruin: side by side
They were enthroned, in the even tide,
Upon a couch, near to a curtaining
Whose airy texture, from a golden string,
Floated into the room, and let appear
Unveil'd the summer heaven, blue and clear,
Betwixt two marble shafts: - there they reposed,
Where use had made it sweet, with eyelids closed,
Saving a tythe which love still open kept,
That they might see each other while they almost slept;
When from the slope side of a suburb hill,
Deafening the swallow's twitter, came a thrill
Of trumpets - Lycius started - the sounds fled,
But left a thought, a buzzing in his head.
For the first time, since first he harbour'd in
That purple-lined palace of sweet sin,
His spirit pass'd beyond its golden bourn
Into the noisy world almost forsworn.
The lady, ever watchful, penetrant,
Saw this with pain, so arguing a want
Of something more, more than her empery
Of joys; and she began to moan and sigh
Because he mused beyond her, knowing well
That but a moment's thought is passion's passing bell.
"Why do you sigh, fair creature?" whisper'd he:
"Why do you think?" return'd she tenderly:
"You have deserted me - where am I now?
Not in your heart while care weighs on your brow:
No, no, you have dismiss'd me; and I go
From your breast houseless: ay, it must be so."
He answer'd, bending to her open eyes,
Where he was mirror'd small in paradise,
My silver planet, both of eve and morn!
Why will you plead yourself so sad forlorn,
While I am striving how to fill my heart
With deeper crimson, and a double smart?
How to entangle, trammel up and snare
Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there
Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose?
Ay, a sweet kiss - you see your mighty woes.
My thoughts! shall I unveil them? Listen then!
What mortal hath a prize, that other men
May be confounded and abash'd withal,
But lets it sometimes pace abroad majestical,
And triumph, as in thee I should rejoice
Amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth's voice.
Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar,
While through the thronged streets your bridal car
Wheels round its dazzling spokes." The lady's cheek
Trembled; she nothing said, but, pale and meek,
Arose and knelt before him, wept a rain
Of sorrows at his words; at last with pain
Beseeching him, the while his hand she wrung,
To change his purpose. He thereat was stung,
Perverse, with stronger fancy to reclaim
Her wild and timid nature to his aim:
Besides, for all his love, in self despite,
Against his better self, he took delight
Luxurious in her sorrows, soft and new.
His passion, cruel grown, took on a hue
Fierce and sanguineous as 'twas possible
In one whose brow had no dark veins to swell.
Fine was the mitigated fury, like
Apollo's presence when in act to strike
The serpent - Ha, the serpent! certes, she
Was none. She burnt, she lov'd the tyranny,
And, all subdued, consented to the hour
When to the bridal he should lead his paramour.
Whispering in midnight silence, said the youth,
"Sure some sweet name thou hast, though, by my truth,
I have not ask'd it, ever thinking thee
Not mortal, but of heavenly progeny,
As still I do. Hast any mortal name,
Fit appellation for this dazzling frame?
Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth,
To share our marriage feast and nuptial mirth?"
"I have no friends," said Lamia," no, not one;
My presence in wide Corinth hardly known:
My parents' bones are in their dusty urns
Sepulchred, where no kindled incense burns,
Seeing all their luckless race are dead, save me,
And I neglect the holy rite for thee.
Even as you list invite your many guests;
But if, as now it seems, your vision rests
With any pleasure on me, do not bid
Old Apollonius - from him keep me hid."
Lycius, perplex'd at words so blind and blank,
Made close inquiry; from whose touch she shrank,
Feigning a sleep; and he to the dull shade
Of deep sleep in a moment was betray'd
It was the custom then to bring away
The bride from home at blushing shut of day,
Veil'd, in a chariot, heralded along
By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song,
With other pageants: but this fair unknown
Had not a friend. So being left alone,
(Lycius was gone to summon all his kin)
And knowing surely she could never win
His foolish heart from its mad pompousness,
She set herself, high-thoughted, how to dress
The misery in fit magnificence.
She did so, but 'tis doubtful how and whence
Came, and who were her subtle servitors.
About the halls, and to and from the doors,
There was a noise of wings, till in short space
The glowing banquet-room shone with wide-arched grace.
A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone
Supportress of the faery-roof, made moan
Throughout, as fearful the whole charm might fade.
Fresh carved cedar, mimicking a glade
Of palm and plantain, met from either side,
High in the midst, in honour of the bride:
Two palms and then two plantains, and so on,
From either side their stems branch'd one to one
All down the aisled place; and beneath all
There ran a stream of lamps straight on from wall to wall.
So canopied, lay an untasted feast
Teeming with odours. Lamia, regal drest,
Silently paced about, and as she went,
In pale contented sort of discontent,
Mission'd her viewless servants to enrich
The fretted splendour of each nook and niche.
Between the tree-stems, marbled plain at first,
Came jasper pannels; then, anon, there burst
Forth creeping imagery of slighter trees,
And with the larger wove in small intricacies.
Approving all, she faded at self-will,
And shut the chamber up, close, hush'd and still,
Complete and ready for the revels rude,
When dreadful guests would come to spoil her solitude.
The day appear'd, and all the gossip rout.
O senseless Lycius! Madman! wherefore flout
The silent-blessing fate, warm cloister'd hours,
And show to common eyes these secret bowers?
The herd approach'd; each guest, with busy brain,
Arriving at the portal, gaz'd amain,
And enter'd marveling: for they knew the street,
Remember'd it from childhood all complete
Without a gap, yet ne'er before had seen
That royal porch, that high-built fair demesne;
So in they hurried all, maz'd, curious and keen:
Save one, who look'd thereon with eye severe,
And with calm-planted steps walk'd in austere;
'Twas Apollonius: something too he laugh'd,
As though some knotty problem, that had daft
His patient thought, had now begun to thaw,
And solve and melt - 'twas just as he foresaw.
He met within the murmurous vestibule
His young disciple. "'Tis no common rule,
Lycius," said he, "for uninvited guest
To force himself upon you, and infest
With an unbidden presence the bright throng
Of younger friends; yet must I do this wrong,
And you forgive me." Lycius blush'd, and led
The old man through the inner doors broad-spread;
With reconciling words and courteous mien
Turning into sweet milk the sophist's spleen.
Of wealthy lustre was the banquet-room,
Fill'd with pervading brilliance and perfume:
Before each lucid pannel fuming stood
A censer fed with myrrh and spiced wood,
Each by a sacred tripod held aloft,
Whose slender feet wide-swerv'd upon the soft
Wool-woofed carpets: fifty wreaths of smoke
From fifty censers their light voyage took
To the high roof, still mimick'd as they rose
Along the mirror'd walls by twin-clouds odorous.
Twelve sphered tables, by silk seats insphered,
High as the level of a man's breast rear'd
On libbard's paws, upheld the heavy gold
Of cups and goblets, and the store thrice told
Of Ceres' horn, and, in huge vessels, wine
Come from the gloomy tun with merry shine.
Thus loaded with a feast the tables stood,
Each shrining in the midst the image of a God.
When in an antichamber every guest
Had felt the cold full sponge to pleasure press'd,
By minist'ring slaves, upon his hands and feet,
And fragrant oils with ceremony meet
Pour'd on his hair, they all mov'd to the feast
In white robes, and themselves in order placed
Around the silken couches, wondering
Whence all this mighty cost and blaze of wealth could spring.
Soft went the music the soft air along,
While fluent Greek a vowel'd undersong
Kept up among the guests discoursing low
At first, for scarcely was the wine at flow;
But when the happy vintage touch'd their brains,
Louder they talk, and louder come the strains
Of powerful instruments - the gorgeous dyes,
The space, the splendour of the draperies,
The roof of awful richness, nectarous cheer,
Beautiful slaves, and Lamia's self, appear,
Now, when the wine has done its rosy deed,
And every soul from human trammels freed,
No more so strange; for merry wine, sweet wine,
Will make Elysian shades not too fair, too divine.
Soon was God Bacchus at meridian height;
Flush'd were their cheeks, and bright eyes double bright:
Garlands of every green, and every scent
From vales deflower'd, or forest-trees branch rent,
In baskets of bright osier'd gold were brought
High as the handles heap'd, to suit the thought
Of every guest; that each, as he did please,
Might fancy-fit his brows, silk-pillow'd at his ease.
What wreath for Lamia? What for Lycius?
What for the sage, old Apollonius?
Upon her aching forehead be there hung
The leaves of willow and of adder's tongue;
And for the youth, quick, let us strip for him
The thyrsus, that his watching eyes may swim
Into forgetfulness; and, for the sage,
Let spear-grass and the spiteful thistle wage
War on his temples. Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine -
Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade.
By her glad Lycius sitting, in chief place,
Scarce saw in all the room another face,
Till, checking his love trance, a cup he took
Full brimm'd, and opposite sent forth a look
'Cross the broad table, to beseech a glance
From his old teacher's wrinkled countenance,
And pledge him. The bald-head philosopher
Had fix'd his eye, without a twinkle or stir
Full on the alarmed beauty of the bride,
Brow-beating her fair form, and troubling her sweet pride.
Lycius then press'd her hand, with devout touch,
As pale it lay upon the rosy couch:
'Twas icy, and the cold ran through his veins;
Then sudden it grew hot, and all the pains
Of an unnatural heat shot to his heart.
"Lamia, what means this? Wherefore dost thou start?
Know'st thou that man?" Poor Lamia answer'd not.
He gaz'd into her eyes, and not a jot
Own'd they the lovelorn piteous appeal:
More, more he gaz'd: his human senses reel:
Some hungry spell that loveliness absorbs;
There was no recognition in those orbs.
"Lamia!" he cried - and no soft-toned reply.
The many heard, and the loud revelry
Grew hush; the stately music no more breathes;
The myrtle sicken'd in a thousand wreaths.
By faint degrees, voice, lute, and pleasure ceased;
A deadly silence step by step increased,
Until it seem'd a horrid presence there,
And not a man but felt the terror in his hair.
"Lamia!" he shriek'd; and nothing but the shriek
With its sad echo did the silence break.
"Begone, foul dream!" he cried, gazing again
In the bride's face, where now no azure vein
Wander'd on fair-spaced temples; no soft bloom
Misted the cheek; no passion to illume
The deep-recessed vision - all was blight;
Lamia, no longer fair, there sat a deadly white.
"Shut, shut those juggling eyes, thou ruthless man!
Turn them aside, wretch! or the righteous ban
Of all the Gods, whose dreadful images
Here represent their shadowy presences,
May pierce them on the sudden with the thorn
Of painful blindness; leaving thee forlorn,
In trembling dotage to the feeblest fright
Of conscience, for their long offended might,
For all thine impious proud-heart sophistries,
Unlawful magic, and enticing lies.
Corinthians! look upon that gray-beard wretch!
Mark how, possess'd, his lashless eyelids stretch
Around his demon eyes! Corinthians, see!
My sweet bride withers at their potency."
"Fool!" said the sophist, in an under-tone
Gruff with contempt; which a death-nighing moan
From Lycius answer'd, as heart-struck and lost,
He sank supine beside the aching ghost.
"Fool! Fool!" repeated he, while his eyes still
Relented not, nor mov'd; "from every ill
Of life have I preserv'd thee to this day,
And shall I see thee made a serpent's prey?"
Then Lamia breath'd death breath; the sophist's eye,
Like a sharp spear, went through her utterly,
Keen, cruel, perceant, stinging: she, as well
As her weak hand could any meaning tell,
Motion'd him to be silent; vainly so,
He look'd and look'd again a level - No!
"A Serpent!" echoed he; no sooner said,
Than with a frightful scream she vanished:
And Lycius' arms were empty of delight,
As were his limbs of life, from that same night.
On the high couch he lay! - his friends came round
Supported him - no pulse, or breath they found,
And, in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound.

Hallow Weekend

My mom is probably waiting to board her flight back to Michigan as I type.

We had a good weekend. Friday night we went and saw the Chatham production of Agatha Christie's "And Then There Were None." The students did a good job. The sound tech person needed to learn his or her ques a little better. Watching the play made me nestolgic for the movie "Clue" and Tim Curry. Tim and I both know that the butler always does it. Why oh why did I leave my "Rocky Horrow Picture Show" soundtrack in Michigan. It is so perfect for Halloween.

Saturday, Mom and I went to a fabric store in a small town called Mount Lebanon. We got stuck there. The town was having a Halloween parade down the road that the parking garage we had parked in let out on. The parade was adorable. Highlights included the dog clubs that had their dogs dressed up and the high school marching band that played the Ghost Busters theme.

We also went to a very cool Thai restaurant with a modern style. The food resembled P.F. Chang's. Mom and I may take dad there when they visit next weekend.

We also watched both "Down with Love" and "Love Actually." I don't think Mom gets to watch a lot of romantic comedies with Dad being in charge of the DVD rentals.

I really need to start saving money for Christmas and the future in general. No more buying clothes for the rest of the year! Of course, I have to have one last purchase, so I just blew my entire pay check at urbanoutfitters.com.

Sigh. Boss called. Apparently he has the flu (poor guy), so he asked me to come in an hour earlier. I agreed. It just sucks, because I already was going to have an 8 hour shift. Note to self, stop being a human doormat. Of well, it'll be more money to set aside for "the future," right? Right.
I'm wearing a halloween costume. My manager can't stop me. I mean, I don't think people with the flu can run very fast.

Expectation

I am thinking about changing my blog title to "My Life in Irony" because my life is tres ironic. The day after my boss and I agreed that I won't have to close all by myself for at least several weeks, the same day that I went into work thinking "joy to the world, I won't be alone all night," the girl I was supposed to work with called in sick. I worked alone all night. I closed by myself.

It was funny. The first manager-type-person I saw when I arrived immediately asked, "Have you heard the bad news?" Then described how I'd be all alone. "But don't worry," she said. "If things get crazy, you can call Tom or Courtney over. And Courtney will come over at 9:30 to help you close."
"Okay."
Then I went over to the cafe where my manager is working. As soon as his eyes landed on me, he asked, "Have you heard the bad news?"
He made a few jokes, then left me. (Typical man)
For the first hour things were fine.
Then the excrement hit the vents.
Crazy mad line.
I started on the orders and tried to call Tom and Courtney because "they're there to help". Unless they're not around. Neither was picking up their phones. No superheroes to the rescue. I resigned myself to the pain. But then, Bessie, another crosstrained bookseller saw my pain and helped me. Bessie=superhero.
It was slow for the rest night.
I started closing early. Courtney came over to help. I had it all under control so, after making her do a few jobs I didn't like, I sent her away.
I like closing alone. It's really good for my obsessive compulsiveness. I heart scrubbing and mopping. Very therapeutic. It's not as much fun when someone is there with you. (But, at this point in time, I still need someone doing the jobs I don't like, because I spend a lot of time scrubbing...too long. If I needed to get out in the 30 minutes I'm supposed to have, I wouldn't make it)

My mom has just arrived at the airport. I await her arrival. I'm kinda nervous about her visit. On the grand scale of things, we don't have much to say to each other.

I'm realizing that if I can't make it as a writer, I can probably be an editor. Everyone seems to want my opinion on their work. So I give it to them. In fact, I have to meet someone at 12. Let's hope mom arrives before then.

I Have Adamantium Claws

Excuse the lack of blogging. I've been busy, which makes me tired, which makes me lazy, thus I do nothing but watch DVDs with my free time.

As of last night, I have decided to continue with the new version of my story. Some of you may be shrugging, saying "So what?" But for me, this was my most recent OH GOD, OH GOD, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?!? crisis.

I met with my professor/advisor. My schedule for the spring came together very easily. Let's just hope I manage to enroll before the classes fill up. I'll hopefully be taking a children's lit course, a teaching course (and coolest) a fantasy writing course.

Work is going pretty well. Right now my biggest drama is the fact that I seem to set off the security system every time I walk into or out of the building. It shouldn't be a big deal, but it's rather annoying. I've reached the point where I'm dreading walking in and out of the building. Plus, we have a new security guard who doesn't recognize me as an employee yet, so he give me the "I'm watching you, shoplifter!!!!1" glare whenever I set it off.
I can't figure out which of my possessions is causing the trouble. I keep bringing different things to read and do on break, so it can't be any specific one of all my legally-obtained books.
So, I've come to the only remaining and very logical conclusion that I have adamantium claws and I, like Wolverine, don't remember the painful surgical process in which the metal replaced all my bones. (I'm very good at blocking out unpleasant experiences) Of course, the security system isn't searching for metal weapons, but active ISBN codes. But I'm prepared to look over that fact to ensure my amusement.

Over Due Hair Cut Picture

Here is me at my prettiest! Don't I look like pure evil?! You know they say cameras can see into the soul. This will be the picture I'll put up on posters when my reign of world domination begins. Would you oppose me?

I didn't think so.

Not much has been going on. Rewatched Pride and Prejudice AGAIN.

I have my presentation tonight. Technically, I'm ready for it, but I still fear my finicky professor will find some tragic flaw in it. We shall see.

I'm worried about the essay and all of the stories that I have to write. I seem to have lost the ability to put words together in a coherent and pleasant manner.

I'm still unsure if I should rewrite the mermaid story. I got into a conversation with a random woman at a cafe on campus. She told me to never alter my vision for the benefit of getting published. As far as I know, this woman has zero writing experience. Nonetheless, I'm 3 for 3 on people screaming "Don't change it!!!"
I will hopefully talk to my professor on Monday. She has loads of writing and publishing experience. And knowing my luck she'll disagree with everyone else, just to complicate my life further.

Work tomorrow.

Slacker Excuses

Longest day ever!

Got a call at 9:20 AM from work. The person who was supposed to open never showed. I was asked to come in early. I did. Due to my early arrival, my shift ended up being over 9 hours long. I was alone for most of it.

My feet hate me.

Don't get me wrong, there were a few slow moments; very few...with lots of chaos in between. One of my customers said it best. She was the last in a long line. I'd been constantly serving people for over an hour. I apologized for her long wait and she said, "No problem. You got slammed." It was true.

Aren't Sundays supposed to be slow?

Matters were than made worse by the fact that Danny was over a half hour late. By then I was already dead on my feet, my sense of humor was six feet under with my soul and mental capabilities. He did bring me out of it a little when he threatened to attack me with whipped cream.

We had an interesting customer. I was talking to Danny and a bookseller on his break (interestingly he was also present for my encounter with Mean Lady several weeks ago. His name is Eden). A man stood at the entrance to the cafe and had a cigarette in his mouth. He asked "You got a light back there?"
I said "Sorry, Sir."
The man then shouted to the whole cafe, asking if anyone had a lighter. The cafe was busy and decently loud, so everyone ignored him.

The man turned back to me and asked "Is smoking allowed here?"

I shrugged, "Sorry, no it isn't."

The man went and had a seat in the cafe.

Eden made an anti-smoking joke, won 10 points on my coolness scale and then left to drink the mocha Danny made for him.

I didn't pay any attention to the crazy man as there were new customers to keep me entertained. Minutes later I was vaguely aware that the man had yelled something about "shooting guns" and left the cafe.

I didn't really care. My general rule in these situations is to ignore the person causing the situation. I mean, the man left. So it's all good, right?

One of the women at a table came up to the counter and requested that security be called. "He can't get away with saying things like that," she said. Apparently the man's yelling included mention of killing people.

Yikes. Missed that part.

The security guy came upstairs (Our Barnes and Noble has freakishly high rates of theft so we get a special security guard to stand around and look intimidating, hassle me for free "expired" food and occasionally round up the crazies and escort them away) Security guy followed on the third aspect of his job description. I helped him find the crazy man and that was that.

Points to me for managing to find a job at the crazy book store.

At least I have the next few days off.

Sigh. Still have to write a paper and prepare a presentation. Pain. Why oh why can't I present on Colin Firth's portrayal of Mr. Darcy? I could get into that.

Prophecy

So far two out of two people have preferred my old story to the newer version. Will wait for my professor's feedback before I freak out and die. Have had a new idea to incorporate both versions...would be a lot of work...very experimental. Need to talk to someone or send off original draft and get rejected a couple of times before I'd be willing to make the changes. Pain. Suffering. Bugger, life is hard.

I had the weirdest dream last night. It took place in my apartment.

In the dream, I woke up in bed to find a man standing in my room, staring at me. He was wearing a black suit and had short, gray hair and black eyes. He gave off VERY bad vibes.

The man: I am a shepherd of Satan.
Me: ...

I couldn't speak. The man had done something so I couldn't talk. I sat there gurgling as he moved towards me.

After enough attempts, I regained my voice.

Me: In the name of Jesus be gone!

I started to sing "what would people say if they knew I was a Jesus freak?"

The man disappeared.

I screamed.

My mom (because my parents' bedroom had magically attached itself to my apartment) came running into my room and I woke up, feeling a tad bit scared and confused.

Yeeeeeeaaaaaah.

A Poor City, The IRS, Taxes and Death

I spoke to my manager about my pay check. I opened with "Is Pennsylvania communist?" No, but apparently Pittsburgh is. The $52 tax is a new city tax of a set amount that is charged once a year because, according to my manager, "Pittsburgh is poor." He went on to tell me the story of a seasonal employee who was called in for the last Harry Potter book party. (It was his first time working since the tax had begun to be applied. After taxes, he walked away with a sum total of $1. Apparently the moral of the story was that I was better off than that guy.

At work last night, while I was walking out after finishing my shift, one of the booksellers (I think he has authority of some sort, but isn't an actual manager) asked me if I'd be interested in being cross-trained as a bookseller. Dream come true! I told him I'd like that and as we walked outside, my bag set off the security alarm. I'd also set it off when I'd arrived for work earlier. I have no idea why, but it is just my luck that when they're considering letting me near the books it looks like I've stolen one.

I know I haven't worked with everyone, but I think I have a favorite cafe work buddy: Danny. Our personalities mesh well. He reminds me a lot of ex-boyfriend number one...he's nerdy, my height and has black hair. I fear that he might have romantic ideas towards me. This would be bad because I'm fairly certain (despite being a good guy) he's not a Christian. (Plus, I think ex-boyfriend number one and I were better as a couple than friends) Also, I don't feel attracted to him and I fear I've misrepresented myself to him...but not intentionally. Take the following bit of conversation from the end of last shift for example:

Me (waving): See you when I see you.
Danny: I think we both work together Sunday night.
Me (while feeling cool that he's paying attention to when we work together): Sunday, bloody Sunday.
Danny (eyes widening and seeming impressed): Have you seen the movie, HBO documentary actually, based on the song?
Me (pausing before running away): No, but I'll try to catch it some time.

I just said the quote because it was there, swimming in my head, willing to be said. I don't even know who sings the song. I may not have even heard the song, EVER. But now Danny thinks I know stuff. Sigh. Life is difficult.

Spent all of Tuesday night not sleeping and watching Pride and Prejudice. Darcy goodness. Must rewatch....

I have to prepare for a presentation that I have to give on Wednesday. I also need to write a paper for a week from Tuesday, but I don't have any classes this Monday or Tuesday. Finally, I know the joy of attending a school that has a fall break. It leaves plenty of time to rewatch P&P. Joy to the world!

Quotable Class

"We're doing well with lying to people. Let's move on to be cruel to others."
~Professor Ayres

Leah: The power went out and I screamed "save the ice cream!"
Professor Ayres: Great! The child will experience loss.
Shel: But isn't the power outage good...cause now the kid has to eat the ice cream.
Professor Ayres: It's not good if he can't find the ice cream in the dark.
Shel: Or if he gets a stomach ache from eating too much.
Professor Ayres: Or he could find the ice cream too late and it would have already melted.
Shel: Ohhh, you're good at this being cruel thing.
Professor Ayres: I've had practice.

Survey Says:

____YOUR LIFE____
[x] they call me: Michele
[x] also: Shel and (for one bad grade school year) Cookie
[x] sex: female
[x] my first breath of air: July 17, 1984
[x] age: 21
[x] status: Single
[x] occupation: Student, bariiiiiiiiista
[x] nationality: American (Russian and mut)
[x] best homeboys/girls: The SSMS group (Monica, Catherine, Anna, Miguel, Sarah, Holly, and Jeffiner); the girlies from MSU (Leslie, Rose and Britt), Elizabeth and Megan.

____REWIND____
[x] most memorable memory: Ummm, I guess deciding to go to Florida last minute
[x] worst?: Sending a very sarcastic e-mail to a professor (In my defense, he had it coming!)
[x] first word uttered: Dadadadadadadada
[x] first best friend ever: Holly.

____FAST FORWARD____
[x] college planning to go: Finish at Chatham…then there may be a PhD. Program at an unknown location
[x] future resident of: ?????
[x] wedding: ?????
[x] children: ?????
[x] looking forward to thanksgiving: Yes, cause then I get to go home!
[x] NOT looking forward to: Trying to get published, applying to more grad schools a year from now.

____PLAY____
[x] feeling: Hungry. And cold…they need to turn the heat on in the apartment building.
[x] listening: Cars outside
[x] talking: I have yet to say anything that can be considered sensical
[x] doing: This survey
[x] craving: Food in general
[x] thinking of: My stories.
[x] hating: Nothing really.

____LOVE____
[x] love is: Essential
[x] first love: Yet to occur.
[x] current love: Ice cream, popcorn, my friends and family
[x] love or lust?: Love
[x] best love song: I don’t know…PM’s Love Theme by Craig Armstrong
[x] is it possible to be in love w/ more than one person @ the same time?: I think you can love to people in different ways at the same time.
[x] when love hurts, you: Probably fake not caring and push people away.
[x] true or false - all you need is love: True
[x] have you ever been in love?: Nope.
[x] is there such thing as love @ first sight?: There is lust at first sight, but not love.

____THE OPPOSITE SEX____
[x] turn ons: Being a Christian. Smart. Funny. Taller than me. Kind to others. Not bad on the eyes.
[x] turn offs: Drugs of any kind. Partying. Being a jerk. Being a know it all.
[x] does your parents' opinion on your bf/gf matter to you?: To a degree. I’d be heart if they didn’t like the guy, but if I felt their reason for not liking him wasn’t good, I wouldn’t let their opinion stop me.
[x] what kinda hair style?: Messy, short, blond hair.
[x] the sweetest thing a member of the opposite sex can do for you?: Meet my impossible standards.
[x] where do you go to meet new people?: I really don’t meet new people. (Is that part of my problem?) Although, I have found you can really get to know a guy when you work in the café with them. Hours of being in a limited space together.
[x] are you the type of person to holler n ask for numbers?: Never.

____PICKY PICKY____
[x] dog or cat: Cat.
[x] short or long hair: Long
[x] innie or outie: Innie
[x] sunshine or rain: Sunshine with the occassional storm.
[x] moon or sun: Both.
[x] basketball or football: Neither! (But, I can follow basketball better)
[x] righty or lefty: Righty
[x] hugs or kisses: Hugs
[x] 1 best friend or 10 acquaintances: 1 best friend. But I’ve been blessed with both.
[x] bf/gf or best friend: Best friend. People depending solely on a member of the opposite sex for their worth is one of my biggest pet peeves.
[x] tv or radio: TV to relax, radio for back ground noise when I’m doing work.
[x] starbucks or jamba juice: Starbucks. I think I’m required to say that.
[x] mc donalds or burger king: I avoid both. But I liked McDonald’s french fries more.
[x] summer or winter: SUMMER!!!!!
[x] written letters or e-mails: I use e-mails, but I like the thought of letters.
[x] playstation or nintendo: Neither.
[x] disney or nickelodeon: Disney.
[x] car or motorcycle: Neither.
[x] house party or club: Neither.
[x] sing or dance: Dance!!!!!!!
[x] freak or slow dance: Slow dance
[x] yahoo messenger or aim: AIM
[x] google or ask jeeves?: Google

____MISCELLANEOUS____
[x] can you swim?: Yes
[x] whats your most embarrassing moment?: I blocked it out.
[x] what are you scared of?: Failing.
[x] what is your greatest accomplishment?: I don’t know. Traveling alone. Living alone in a new town. Graduating in three years with a 3.9 GPA.
[x] what kinda roof is over your head?: Apartment roof (I’m the top floor)
[x] do you like tomatoes?: When they are mixed with something.
[x] how many TV's in the house?: 2
[x] how many phones?: A land line and my cell.
[x] how many residents?: One.
[x] how many DVDs do you have?: Lots.
[x] last dentist visit: May.
[x] last phone call: Last night to my mom, to let her know I got home safe. (Despite the fact I’m in one of the safest areas of Pittsburgh, they still worry.)

PA=Jerk

$34.33

$34.33

$34.33!

I can spend that in less than five seconds. I've spent three times that amount in less than five seconds.

$34.33!

The working world is stupid and PA Emergency and Municipal Service owes me $52.00. I want my money back, you jerk! The national government only stole eight dollars. Why do you need $52, plus another six dollars "withholding"? Why? Why? I don't even have the right to vote in this silly state. Give me my money back!!!

$34.33!

I made twice that in one night of baby sitting 5 years ago.

Mother of pearl!

Rant over.

Wednesday, work was fun. I worked with the other newest cafe employee (Danny has me beat by about three weeks). Anyway, we joked the entire time. Good fun.

Thursday was much more painful. Due to someone canceling, I had to work all by my self for the first time. I did okay. Nothing burned or caught fire, but that was the busiest night I've seen. I was constantly working. A couple of interesting customers made up for my pain.

I also got a hair cut on Thursday. I had wanted a trim, but half way through the cutting part, I realized she was taking off 3-4 inches. 3-4 inches!!!!! This was not a trim! This was the elimination of a year's worth of trying to grow my hair long! The woman was nice and we were having a good conversation, so I tried to look at the bright side. I decided to get a new style. I have bangs. BANGS! I have many moments where I like the cut and many where I miss my 3-4 inches.

Friday I did nothing. Slept. I should have gone to the library and checked out a book I'm going to need for a presentation (as of Thursday night, the book was listed as being in the stacks). I did try...at 5 PM...the library was closed. Punks.

Went back Saturday and book was checked out. Double Punks! Since the date the book is due back is in mid-December, a grad student checked it out, most likely someone from my class. Triple punks! I'm the one doing the presentation! I should have the case study! (I costs 20 bucks on Amazon...that's 2/3 of my paycheck...not worth it) I'm hoping the professor will help me and photocopy a section of his edition of the book for me.

This morning I had to get up and go to work for a meeting at the ungodly hour of 8 AM. We're getting a new computer system just when I figured out the old one. Yeah! Any way, most of the information didn't apply to me, but if you answered questions right you got a prize. I felt rather idiotic carrying a Homer Simpson Rubik's cube under my arm on the walk home, but I do like my new "Reading is Cool" T-shirt.

Anyway, I have to work again this afternoon, so I should go and do homework or something.

The World is Systematic and Meaningful

Ha ha!

Got an e-mail this morning. A wonderfully nice girl has found my ID card. Have plans to meet her at 12 to get it back.

Yeah! Starvation may be avoided.

Complications Follow

Meet an obsessive girl, me. Girl has music player on Mr. Compy. Songs on music player are arranged in certain order. Songs have been in this order for girl's entire relationship with Mr. Compy. Today, girl accidentally pressed shuffle. All gone. Life is pain.

In other news, plan to get a new Chatham ID have been stalled. Apparently the machine needed a new part. Not wanting to starve to death, I asked if I could have some proof of my meal plan so I could still eat in the caf. There is no financial record of meal plan. Was not charged. Oops. That's about to change. But in mean time, I'm still starving. My stomach didn't appreciate chips for breakfast. It's true, I'm incapable of taking care of myself.

Hope to get ID card tomorrow. If not possible, I fear my time in this world will be short.

Am listening to music now. Seriously, this is upsetting. I had the music arranged by my moods. Now there is chaos. It frustrates me and makes me want to listen to my angry music section. Angry music section is dead, dismembered to sit beside happy music, and complaining girl music. They do not mesh. I repeat, life is pain.

Working Girl Part Dos

Today was the longest day ever.

My shift at work felt forever long. There was very little to do and the time went so slow the planet started to reverse.

There were also a number of firsts:

-I had my first crazy long line of custumers that I had to handle all by myself.

-I managed to get chocolate on the back of my shirt. (How? How?!)

-I had my first rude custumer. Here's the story behind that one:

It was a part of one of my long lines of people. It was partially my fault as I screwed up a guy's order. I made the mocha hot instead of on ice. He was okay with the situation, actually apologizing that I had to remake his drink. I assured him it was no trouble. And I didn't think the lady behind him would mind too much as she was talk-talk-talking on her cell phone. Either way, I apologized in her direction for the delay. I set aside man number one's hot mocha as it was now useless.

Midway through remaking the man's drink I heard the woman say "You know what? I don't care. Goodbye!" She slams her cell phone shut. I silently think okaaaaaay.

I brought the first man his drink. I went back to the woman and say "Thanks for waiting. What can I get you?"

"Small coffee." She spoke in a clipped tone.

As I rung it up I ask "Would you like anything with that?"

Mean Woman explodes. "I just want my coffee! I just want my coffee! Is that so difficult?!"

Okaaaay. That's about when I realized I'd entered crazy town. I told her the amount due, exchanged a look with the guy in line behind her (also a B&N employee) and immediately got her coffee for fear that she'd slap me if I waited for her to give me the money first.

As soon as the coffee was on the table she was gone. Zoom. A trail of smoke and flames in her wake. The exact amount left on the counter.

I exchanged pleasantries with the other B&N employee and convinced myself that the woman was not worth getting in a bad mood over. I sipped man number one's discarded hot mocha. Might I say, I make an awesome mocha. And I began to feel amused by the mean woman's behavior.

-I also had my first weird custumer.

After ordering a large coffee. The man asked the girl I was working with (Courtney)and I to pick between two statements. I chose "I could not sleep." Weird Man began reciting a rather long poem about love and bumper stickers. Courtney seemed scared. I was trying not to laugh. People like Weird Man are why I wanted a job that involved people. (I have to admit, Mean Woman is also an interesting character)

When Weird Man finished, I clapped and he went off on his merry way.

I also had a good conversation with a man from Ohio.

I liked working with Courtney. There were a few times that we made each other laugh. She's a little more into alcohol and drugs than I would typically like in a friend, but I wouldn't mind having more shifts with her.

Don't get me wrong. I also like my manager, but he's "the man." And now matter how laid-back and cool "the man" seems, he is still "the man."

Tips: 20 cents.

So, that was my day. Plans for tomorrow include class, reading at least 100 pages of one book and getting a new student ID as my old one is still MIA.

Working Girl

I'm busy and stressed.

Work is going well so far. Am still a long ways from knowing exactly what I'm doing, but (depending on what is ordered) I can serve customers all by myself.

Friday was very slow, but I managed to make $2.13 in tips! I was rather excited, because I never knew cafe workers got tips. Although, I'm fairly certain the one guy just didn't want his 13 cents back.

Work again tomorrow.

Not sure I'll get all my homework done.

No theater within walking distance is playing Serenity. I don't know what to do, cause I needs to see it.

Have lost school ID. Very inconvenient.