Close-up

Lisa

Okay, it's not really, but I just really, really like that scene. (Name that movie, by the way...)

But these two poems are the two that I am deciding between to use for my final paper for Dr. Siegfried's class. And they're both lovely. Any preferences on which to use? They both fit the requirements I need them to fit, I think. I'm leaning toward the first one, but we'll see.

A LECTURE UPON THE SHADOW.
by John DonneSTAND still, and I will read to thee
A lecture, Love, in Love's philosophy.
These three hours that we have spent,
Walking here, two shadows went
Along with us, which we ourselves produced.
But, now the sun is just above our head,
We do those shadows tread,
And to brave clearness all things are reduced.
So whilst our infant loves did grow,
Disguises did, and shadows, flow
From us and our cares ; but now 'tis not so.
That love hath not attain'd the highest degree,
Which is still diligent lest others see.

Except our loves at this noon stay,
We shall new shadows make the other way.
As the first were made to blind
Others, these which come behind
Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes.
If our loves faint, and westerwardly decline,
To me thou, falsely, thine
And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.
The morning shadows wear away,
But these grow longer all the day ;
But O ! love's day is short, if love decay.

Love is a growing, or full constant light,
And his short minute, after noon, is night.

THE RELIC.
by John Donne WHEN my grave is broke up again
Some second guest to entertain,
—For graves have learn'd that woman-head,
To be to more than one a bed—
And he that digs it, spies
A bracelet of bright hair about the bone,
Will he not let us alone,
And think that there a loving couple lies,
Who thought that this device might be some way
To make their souls at the last busy day
Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?
If this fall in a time, or land,
Where mass-devotion doth command,
Then he that digs us up will bring
Us to the bishop or the king,
To make us relics ; then
Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen, and I
A something else thereby ;
All women shall adore us, and some men.
And, since at such time miracles are sought,
I would have that age by this paper taught
What miracles we harmless lovers wrought.

First we loved well and faithfully,
Yet knew not what we loved, nor why ;
Difference of sex we never knew,
No more than guardian angels do ;
Coming and going we
Perchance might kiss, but not between those meals ;
Our hands ne'er touch'd the seals,
Which nature, injured by late law, sets free.
These miracles we did ; but now alas !
All measure, and all language, I should pass,
Should I tell what a miracle she was.

2 comments |

On Guilt Trips for Neglect:

Lisa

I always was a weird little kid. I had a rather overactive imagination. Think Anne Shirley--no really, I used to name different trees and walks that I especially liked and dream of a more "romantic" life. Le sigh.

Anyway, in this rather overactive imagination o' mine, I imagined that nonliving things had feelings and imaginations, in the same way that I did. Obviously, my dear stuffed animals Fluffy Kitty and Best Teddy felt and thought and dreamed like me, or else what would be the point of confiding in them or showing them all my secret hideaways as I did? Of course, I didn't confide in people who weren't important. And judging on the number of my five-year-old secrets that Best Teddy and Fluffy Kitty knew, they were the most important people in the universe.

Because I cared so much about what various nonliving toys, objects, and abstract ideas thought of me, I always especially tried to treat all of them equally and fairly. If I played a lot with one particular stuffed animal on Monday, I'd play with a different one on Tuesday, cycling through all of them before I played with Monday's child again. I wanted to be a very, very good and fair mother to all of my little charges, and this desire to be fair and equal with my attention-giving crossed into my treatment of everything in my life. If I couldn't give equal attention to all things that I felt were important, I was obviously doing something wrong or bad or cruel. Obviously.

I don't feel that way anymore. I've learned that sometimes, you just can't get to everything. And sometimes, certain things get neglected.

In the case of the past few weeks, it's been my blog. I'll try to do better at playing with my stuffed animals more fairly. But sometimes, certain ones just get neglected.

Sorry, Best Teddy. Sorry, Blog.

2 comments |

The other day...

Lisa

via

...I walked up the stairs to the Maeser building. And, well, I may have been wearing four-inch-gray-suede-heeled-ankle-boots. And I may have been walking very quickly. And it may have been snowing. Maybe.

And you know, when it snows, and you have a heavy bag full of STUFF slung over one shoulder, and you're stressed to the max about being late and you're not really watching where you're stepping and you glance over your shoulder to see what-is-that-bright-yellow-thing-on-that-tree-over-there? and you may seem just a little bit ADD because you're looking around at everything else instead of where you're walking and all the while your four-inch heels are clackclackclackclacking down the sidewalk toward the stairs and you're STILL looking around at everything except your path and you decide to take the slippery, snowy, ancient, bumpy stairs in front of the Maeser building TWO at a time because you deceive yourself into thinking you'll get inside faster and be less late than you thought you would and then you L E A P . . .

Well, when you do that...

via

this may happen...

After which, of course you immediately pick yourself up, grab the heavy bag full of stuff, sling it over your shoulder again, and scramble up the rest of the stairs, pretending like absolutely nothing happened.

Obviously.

Not that I am speaking from experience. This is purely hypothetical.

mmm...

There is just no way to regain the dignity lost from falling down the stairs. There is no graceful way to recover from that.

That's what I've heard from OTHER people who have lost said dignity, of course. I've never done this myself, of course. Of course.

3 comments |

The forsythias are almost blooming or, Notes to Self:

Lisa

via

1. Roommates are not meant for surgery. Try to keep them in good enough health that they can stay out of the Emergency Room.

2. Papers are all well and good, but doing them the day they're due is not a practice I generally endorse. And today I remembered why.

3. Hats work wonders for messy hair. (Siblings--hats are good for Jesse Bear?) :)

4. Jason Mraz, Carla Bruni, and Corrine Bailey Rae are excellent musics to listen to when you're feeling springtimeish.

5. Task completion is the absolute best stress reliever ever. That could be because very few things stress me out that are not obscenely long lists of tasks to complete...

6. Happiness is a choice.

7. Whatever It is, It is probably not as big a deal as you think.

8. Lovely weather makes all the difference.

I'm excited for a lot of things today. :)

"Happiness is excitement that has found a settling down place. But there is always a little corner that keeps flapping around." ~E.L. Konigsburg

0 comments |

Happy Holidays

Lisa

http://blog.holidays.net/index.php/2010/03/03/march-03-today-were-celebrating-what-if-cats-and-dogs-had-opposable-thumbs-day/

Apparently, today is "What if Cats and Dogs had Opposable Thumbs" Day. Who knew? All I can say is, I'm glad they don't.

What do you guys think of crazy weird "holidays" like these?

1 comments |

One of THOSE days.

Lisa

(found here.)

Dear Stuffy Nose,

I respectfully request that you abstain from hindering my intellectual and physical progress any longer. You have already overstayed your contract (which I NEVER signed, by the way), and I insist that you allow me to attend to other more pressing matters in my life. I think this struggle has gone on quite long enough. Think of this as an order of eviction.

Cordially,
Your landlord(ette)

Dear Theraflu,

Please work? I know that Stuffy Nose is an inexorable guest, but please do your best to get rid of him.

Encouragingly,
Lisa's head (aka, the annoyed neighbor upstairs)

Dear Pile of Papers on my Desk,

I apologize for not giving you the attention I promised you a week ago. I really do plan to get to sorting you all out and assigning you your proper places. Stuffy Nose and Paper to Write have been more tenacious guests than I'd originally planned on. Meanwhile, if you felt like getting started on putting yourselves away, that would be fine with me.

Sincerely,
A Disorganized Student

Dear Robert Shaw and Samuel Barber,

Thank you for beautiful choral music that heals the soul. You still do more good than you know.

Gratefully,
That Tired One

Dear Dr. Siegfried's Midterm,

Even though you are disgustingly intimidating and a frightening monster to behold, and even though my research group does not wish to study together, and even though I am extremely fearful to attempt accomplishing you, I intend to rock your world. So just quit trying to scare me, because it's already worked, and now I'm going to throw my fear to the winds. Or something.

Unabashedly yours,
A Resolved Student That's Quivering in Her Sneakers

Dear Will,

I never do this. But...Come home? I miss you terribly.

Yours,
Lisa

4 comments |

I have a testimony of nerdiness.

Lisa

I have spent most of my time lately doing this:

(found here.)

I would love to be as classy as that lady when I study. But I sit here in the library...with unkempt hair, a floral hat paired with a striped shirt, and pants that are unfortunately short on me when I sit down, revealing my blindingly white, bony ankles. Sigh. It seems I missed an appointment with the fashion deities this morning.

Perhaps because of my extraordinary ability to be un-put-together, I've noticed lately my extraordinary affinity for all things generally classified as nerdy. I don't believe that nerdiness is a negative thing, however. I certainly hope it isn't anyway, because lately, I've developed a powerful testimony of my own nerdiness.

*Exemplary examples:

-In my Writing Fellows class today, I was asked to show the class how to use JSTOR database, because I use it for every paper that I write. I got really excited about showing them the wonders of JSTOR's bounties...and I also got blank stares from most everyone in the class. Oh well.

-I like to use weird words like "scintillating" in casual conversation, even though I don't always know what they mean. I'm generally talking about English-y things when I use these words, but still. (I do actually know what scintillating means though. I looked it up. Go on. Look it up yourself. It'll be scintillating, I guarantee you.)

-I ecstatically read the title of a scholarly article out loud to my roommate last night...before I realized she was staring at me with raised eyebrows and starting to laugh.

-I go to academic conferences and lectures for fun. Why do I do this?!? It's just like more class! (And the one today about Milton's treatment of temples and sacred spaces was awesome. Even though John S. Tanner is lots smarter than I am and I didn't understand nearly everything he said.)

However, despite my nerdiness, I feel like I am so behind and stupid in most of my classes. Everyone else always has better ideas. But I love their ideas, and I love finding out all these cool things from everybody else, so I'm just the nerdy class slowpoke, trying to keep up with everyone else. Hopefully I'll have things more figured out by the time I have to graduate. It kind of goes back to something the speaker at a stake RS meeting last night talked about--we have these crazy difficult weaknesses, but we want so badly for them to become strengths that we just keep attacking them, no matter how weak we feel when we do it. I want so much to learn and know all these cool things that I hear about in my classes that I just keep clinging on to the hot-air-balloon of smartness by my fingertips and try to stay on. Even though I'm closer to falling off than actually being the basket, I still want to go along for the ride and see wider vistas.

Sigh. Is it normal to love your major this much?

P.S. This is a more accurate depiction of me most of the time, I think. Minus the glamor. :)