Elementary, my dear Watson.

After that last post, I decided I wanted to post more of my old stuff. Sadly, any of the physical manipulations I did are currently inaccessible (and not nearly as cool via the intar-webs), so the only ones I have are those that I emailed to myself.

Here's a keyboard:

Taken with the same camera, for the same assignment.

My last year of high school, I took the AP 2D Portfolio class. There are two parts of the portfolio, breadth, in which you show off your skillllllz and ability to do different things, and concentration, where you pick a theme and go with it. All of the ones I'm going to be posting are concentration pieces, because all of my breadth was done on film.
They're all pretty basic and not too exciting (and this is the least exciting of all of them), but a post is a post, yes?
Mainly, this is a chance for me to look back at what I was doing back in '05 and '06. Don't judge me.

Old school.

While home, I went on an archeological dig through the boxes of my high school past. I found all my old binders of film and prints and various projects. My intention was to scan all of them, or at least the ones that don't make me cringe when I look at them, but that didn't happen.

This may or may not be one I sent as part of my portfolio. Who knows. It is contrasty and was taken with a digital camera that would be considered a dinosaur by anyone, but I remember the fun I had working on this piece and on the rest of them, and isn't that the important thing? (We'll go with that, yes?)

I miss photo classes. And music classes. I should probably do more of both of those things than I am.

It's a dalmatian plantation!

Title in honor of the fact that this is my 101st post. Please smile and pretend I am clever, even though that may be far from the truth.

I am back on this lovely rock in the middle of the Pacific and appreciate it so much more now that I got my much needed break. Home was great. Beyond great, in fact.
I got to spend time with my family and friends and go adventuring. I tried new things. I shot zombies (...okay, so I shot one, and it was paper, but with real bullets!), I went ice-skating and bowling and paintballing and made cheesecake and baked and decorated cookies with friends I've known since elementary school. I watched movies and read books (FOR FUN) and slept in late and stayed in my pajamas until six in the evening (no really, it was great). I saw Christmas lights galore and missed the New Years Eve fireworks because my absolute lack of any sense of direction rubs off on people who spend too much time around me.
I saw snow. I shoveled snow. I froze. I also watched with delight as that snow melted.
I wore socks every single day. I even wore a coat and gloves. I didn't even mind having to wear a coat and gloves . . . most of the time. And if we want to talk about crazy- I drove a car- that has only happened about four times since I've been out here at school.

Being at school helps me appreciate home. Being at home helps me appreciate school.
There is plenty more to say about that, and lists miles long I could make, but I think that is enough for now.

Now, I'm a couple of weeks into the semester and enjoying classes and working and not being stressed out (we'll see how long that lasts). With my go-to friend back on the mainland awaiting her departure to China, I'm making new friends and doing new things. Lots of new things. Life is good.

This has been enough of a novel. Here's a picture:

This memorial is one of my most favorite-est places close to home. I shot a series here back in high school experimenting with different film speeds and when I got my lenses summer before last this is where I came out to play with them- I might have even posted some of those pictures, but I'm not sure. The two domes you can see in the distance are the Naval Academy chapel and the State House. Lovelylovelylovely.

I've gone hard...

...And now, after almost a year and a half, sixty-eight completed credit hours and one long bout of homesickness, I am finally going home.

(Picture from the first stop on the Stairway to Heaven, on an August adventure with the roommates.)

Aloha for two weeks and a half weeks, Hawaii. 

Hello, Maryland. Please, don't freeze me while I'm out there!

It's a (relatively) cold, rainy morning, which makes oatmeal and cinnamon apple tea the perfect accompaniment to writing reading responses to Marx, Levi-Strauss and the hater of an author who penned the chapter on post-modern anthropology in my textbook.

For some strange reason, my posting increases exponentially at the end of the semester in comparison to the beginning. My room is also cleaner and everything I own is more organized. At least my procrastination is productive, right?

I bet...

Rubber Ducky likes outside showers too, not just baths...

P.S. The pasta had the opposite problem this time- it was a little too tough (and the lasagna, although quite tasty, was far from pretty, thus no pictures). I feel like the Goldilocks of pasta. The third time she always likes it, right?

ADVENTURE TIME!

...that title is for Raycho and MayeHsuwimmer. Because even though I don't see the point of that show, I think you guys are a-okay.

Anyways.

My adventures of late may not be super-exciting-jumping-off-rocks-into-shallow-pools-of-water adventures, but I still think they're delightful. In recent weeks, many of my adventures have been going down in the kitchen. (With good reason, far too many of past outside adventures have ended in pain lately. Why yes, my left knee and hip are still lovely shades of purple and green, thank you for asking.)

A few weeks ago, I decided to try my hand at home-made pasta. Home made spinach pasta, in fact. The process was fun, and made more fun with the help of friends. It turned out beaaaaaaaaaaautiful.
See:

The color was lovely, and the recipe I conglomerated from a few different ones (and didn't write down... typical!) worked pretty well. I'd never made pasta before and the sources I looked at varied on drying time, so I let the noodles dry for two-three hours before sticking them in the pot. In my exuberance, I put them in the pot to take pictures and let them there while the water was boiling, which, in combination with the short drying time probably played a role in the mushy texture.

I was happy, but not completely happy, so with nothing except planning a lesson for Sunday on my agenda for Saturday night, I decided to have another go at it.

Right now the lasagna noodles are drying out in the kitchen, and this is me desperately hoping that even though the dough was a completely different texture and they're not as thin as they maybe should be, it all works out and tastes great.

And yes, in case you were wondering, this is a pretty typical Saturday night for me. At least I went to the beach today in combination with hanging out in the library. My life is so exciting.

Non-sequitur: I am flying home in twelve days and couldn't be more excited. I guess to be more accurate, I'm flying to visit my grandparents in twelve days and driving home in fourteen, but GOOD HEAVENS it has been a long time since I saw my family. I like this rock in the middle of the ocean and all, but it being a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean when my family lives on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean does put a bit of a damper on face to face interactions on a regular basis.

A Day Late

Yesterday, I thought about Thanksgiving. It makes sense, seeing how it was Thanksgiving.

I thought about our school Thanksgiving dinner in second grade, where we lined up our desks in the hallway outside the classroom and half of us got to be pilgrims with black and white construction paper hats or bonnets, and half of us got to be Indians, with brown headbands and red feather shaped cut outs jutting up from the back of our heads. I thought about the dehydrated and rehydrated mashed potatoes, the turkey and gravy and the half pint chocolate milk cartons on the white styrofoam trays that was all the same as the regular cafeteria food, but it felt special and different because it was Thanksgiving. I remembered how as first graders, we were so jealous that the second graders got to do that, and how as I moved up the ladder of elementary school, I wished we could all have that same Thanksgiving lunch in the hallway.

I thought about the Thanksgivings growing up, where we would all pile into the car and drive down to North Carolina to spend a couple of days with my step-mom's cousin and his family. There would be turkey and pumpkin pie and a little backyard football. We would play a few rounds of the Great Dalmuti and Settlers of Catan and my dad would usually wander off to another room to read. I think I remember going on walks around the neighborhood and that there was a big pond or a small lake that we would go down to (literally, because they lived on a killer hill). I remember how we used to hate climbing back into the car because it meant we had a seven hour car ride ahead of us, and it didn't matter how many books or pillows we had, there was no way it was going to be fun.

I thought about the Thanksgiving I had in Hungary, where I went to school, but probably not for very long, and then the two other exchange students in the city came over to my apartment and we baked peanut butter cookies and ate some of the Japanese treats Motoko's family had sent her. A little later that evening, the six missionaries and some of the young adults and I met up at one of their apartments and we had a pseudo-Thanksgiving dinner, with a big chunk of turkey meat cooked on a baking pan and square pumpkin pie with phyllo dough because the sisters didn't have time to make pie crust. I shared the cookies I'd made and the mint chocolate covered Oreos I'd gotten in a care package from my mom and we all sat around speaking a mix of Hungarian and English. I remember it as being one of my favorite days I'd had in Hungary so far and maintain that it is still my favorite Thanksgiving.

I thought about the faulty premises of the holiday and that although there might have been a day that the Pilgrims and Indians, uh, I mean, Native Americans, sat down together to share a meal, they were also at extreme odds as to what exactly was going to be going down on this continent, and that to this day, the relationship is a little shaky.

I also thought about how unthankful I am, and how helpful it is to have a day set aside to reflect on all of the many things I have to be grateful for, and that even though the myth (and I'm saying myth in the Barthe sense) we pass down is dubious at best, it can't be all bad if it brings people together at a sit down dinner to share their gratitude for each other and for the great things in life.

Yesterday, I was thankful that even though I live 5,544 miles away from my parents, I have people out here that I can call 'ohana and who gather together for beautiful Thanksgiving dinners outside. I was thankful to live in a gorgeous place where 70 is cold. I was thankful for long chats with my family and short texts with far away friends. I was thankful for my rad roommates who spent all day cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I was thankful that the preceding week had been filled with good friends and good food. I was thankful that even though the week wasn't the best academically, there's still another two weeks for me to redeem myself.

All those things I was thankful for yesterday? I appreciate them even more today.

Probably the thing I'm most thankful for is that Thanksgiving is over, because now the next big day is Christmas, and I will finally be back on the East Coast to enjoy the company of those family and friends I have missed so much in the year and a half since I've been home.    

Also, I doubt your Thanksgiving dinner was as pretty as mine. Check it out:

  

Adios, amigas.

In honor of friendships chock full of late night chats, nail-parties, lots of laughing, lots of eating, beach Fridays and night-swimming, among many, many other things, two of my favorite people and I did a little photo session last Saturday.

To make the photos a little more interesting (because we can be pretty boring people, y'know!), we had classy, classy cardstock mustaches.
To make the world a more entertaining, when we were done, we stuck them to a handrail on campus and drew faces. Last I checked, they were still there, a week and some change later.

 

The cheese-tastic, requisite photos with the school motto were also done, in the most serious manner possible. Clearly, we were all meant to be models. 

(Somehow I conned my roommate into taking some photos for us, even though she had a full day of studying planned. She is wonderful, clearly.)

I've been preparing myself for a life of solitude and study once both of these lovely ladies leave, I think it'll work out quite well for me. 

Mmmm, mmmm, good.

Certainly there are incredible, awe-inspiring, adventurous ways to start a day off. Today, making a avocado, cheese, tomato, lettuce mustard sammich on a whole grain bagel (and having friends around to laugh at my camera in hand through the whole process) was a pretty good way to welcome in the weekend.