Someone asks me in the mall, yells at me from their little booth, "What's under your eyes?". How am I supposed to respond, "Bags, do you have anything for that?"?
I'm not going to make it that easy for you. So I say, "Nothing, usually." That doesn't throw him off: "Can I give you a sample?", is how he responds. Sample for what? The nothingness? Or the bags that we don't dare mention?
Kinda makes it harder to sell the crap, not mentioning what it's supposed to cure. Right?
Friday, January 27, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
get it?
Speaking of Newt, it took me a few years but then it dawned on me: His name is Knut, and he is patriotically using American spelling.
sinuses (1)
I'm mighty tired of my sinuses. Whenever the weather changes, they give me hell. They also give me hell whenever there is pollen around, especially tree pollen. Today I've used all home remedies I know, and three kinds of over the counter medications. The home remedies? Flushed the nose with salt water, ate spicy food, went for a walk, took a shower and let the water drum on my forehead. Also avoided stress.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
they're cool, so whatever
I just ordered a pair of on sale, yet still over-priced, updated and hipified Swedish clogs. According to the blurb they're based on a 1970s clog "found in a barn in southern Sweden."
There was a time when I refused to buy clothing that I had owned once before - basically anything 70s or 80s retro. Not only have I broken that promise to myself, now I also indulge in fake backstories and chose to believe that the barn in the above sentence was old and quaint, instead of the more realistic image of a boxy outlet where the clogs were sharing shelf space with equally unsellable take 3 pay for 2 white y-fronts.
There was a time when I refused to buy clothing that I had owned once before - basically anything 70s or 80s retro. Not only have I broken that promise to myself, now I also indulge in fake backstories and chose to believe that the barn in the above sentence was old and quaint, instead of the more realistic image of a boxy outlet where the clogs were sharing shelf space with equally unsellable take 3 pay for 2 white y-fronts.
yeah, good for you, you light skinned mestiza
During a class discussion today one of my students told the story about how at some point someone had asked her about her ethnicity, and upon hearing the she was Mexican, the person had given her a little pat on the back, and said, "You're kind of light for being Mexican, good for you!".
Sunday, January 22, 2012
rest in peace, annaa
A few days ago I learned that someone had died. I received an email with a link to a news story about a woman being found dead in the basement of an apartment building (the story is in Swedish, sorry if you don't read Swedish). The email told me that the woman in the story was someone I knew.
The woman, Annaa Mattsson, was a writer, and her stories have been a part of my life on and off for a long time. When I was in high school she was a reporter at the local paper where I lived. For the past few years I've read her blog, which she updated almost daily.
Many of her readers have said the same thing after learning about her death: That even though they never met in real life, her voice had become an important part of their lives. And now, after she has died, there is silence and emptiness in a way that they had not anticipated.
Someone who does a lot of online teaching once told me that there is a certain intimacy to online interactions. That's true. I think what the internet does sometimes is let us listen in to other people's thoughts. That is an amazing thing when you find someone whose thoughts are as refreshing as Annaa's.
The woman, Annaa Mattsson, was a writer, and her stories have been a part of my life on and off for a long time. When I was in high school she was a reporter at the local paper where I lived. For the past few years I've read her blog, which she updated almost daily.
Many of her readers have said the same thing after learning about her death: That even though they never met in real life, her voice had become an important part of their lives. And now, after she has died, there is silence and emptiness in a way that they had not anticipated.
Someone who does a lot of online teaching once told me that there is a certain intimacy to online interactions. That's true. I think what the internet does sometimes is let us listen in to other people's thoughts. That is an amazing thing when you find someone whose thoughts are as refreshing as Annaa's.
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