Futbol

Last night Julie and I watched the European futbol final--Germany vs. Spain--on jumbo-trons in the public square with hundreds of other people. We were both sort of out of it (given the whole not-really-sleeping-or-eating trend we'd been following), and the game didn't start until 8:30pm, but really, how can you be in Europe for the futbol final and not watch it with people? It was totally worth it. Even though Spain won.
Today we have no plans...we're going to wander around the city a bit and see what adventures we encounter (after we get some much-needed food, that is).

Praha

Hello from the beautiful city of Prague. We've made it here at last. (For more details, see our travel blog: julieandmary.blogspot.com...I would hate to be redundant here.)
Ay. We're here. We haven't really done anything yet (other than me taking a much needed shower to become a human again), but that's okay. I'm loving the fact that I'm actually in Europe with a do-whatever-whenever-I-want itinerary. Yay for adventures.
There's free internet here, so I'll probably be uploading some pictures before too long. I just don't have the energy to go get them right now, so you'll have to wait. Consider this the teaser.
Okay, I'm off to get ready for some futbol...bwa ha ha.
Later all.

I'm off!!

Well, I'm all packed and ready to go, leaving within the hour. I decided to go with Montaigne as the alternate reading material. Sixteenth century French essays about random topics seem a good balance to quirky British detective stories. I know you were all dying to know the final decision.
I don't know if I'll be updating this much while I'm gone. It depends on internet access (and how actively I flee technology while on vacation). Also, Julie and I have a travel blog (julieandmary.blogspot.com) which, if anything, will be updated. So you can always check there.
Okay, back in a month. :)

Packing, packing, packing

The days are dwindling down to my departure date (wow, all of that alliteration was unintentional, I swear).
So far, my pack is at a tolerable 35lbs once my carry-on (with its full litre of water and two additional books) is stuffed inside.
I'm still a bit torn on the reading material. While browsing at Powell's the other day I stumbled upon the complete Las Crónicas de Narnia, on sale no less, which is definitely coming. It has the charming combination of including some of my favorite stories of all time and still requiring a long time for me to read it (the whole other-language thing does slow me down a bit). I think I'll probably bring the Complete Father Brown by Chesterton, too; it has come on every international trip I've yet made. There's something very handy about having short stories around while traveling. And the print is really small.
But I think I'd like to take at least one full-length book (in English). I thought about Les Mis, given it's long-with-small-print factor and the fact that I'll be visiting Paris (and that it's one of my favorites), but ultimately it's a bit bulky to add. Right now I'm hovering on Chesterton's The Everlasting Man, which requires some thought (and again, has small print, but with a much smaller bulk than Les Mis). But that leaves me with two Chestertons, which in turn leaves me feeling somewhat confined. What if I have a distinct not-in-the-mood-for-Chesterton day? What then? Maybe I should throw something in that's not British. Some Dumas, perhaps (I'll be in Italy, after all). The Count of Monte Cristo is rather swashbuckling. Some Tolstoy? Moliere, or Montaigne? Maybe Hugo after all?
Sigh.
I just don't know.

O Canada

I was in Canada once again this weekend, attending the wedding of Nico, one of my linguistics friends (in the middle...you know, in the wedding dress):It was a lot of fun to be back up there, hang out with my friends (like Kristina and Amy, on either end of the picture), see some of my profs, go to my church, and just breathe air of my former home. I don't particularly miss school, per se, but I miss my people up there, and I miss hanging out with Canadians. They're pretty quirky people. (Not to generalize or anything.)

Arizonians

I have decided that Arizonians are some of my new favorite people. I've talked to dozens of them this week, and I have yet to encounter a rude, unfriendly, or difficult client. It's still a desert, so I don't know that I would actually move there on purpose.
But I still say yay for Arizona.

He's back!

Well, almost four hours and an expensive fan-purchase later, my computer is finally back and working (better than it has in years, actually). It was horrifying to see how much dust had accumulated inside the air vents; there was a solid block of compressed dust next to the fan which was completely blocking the air passage. No wonder he kept overheating. (Seeing it made me feel rather embarrassingly untidy, but my dad claims that it's just a bad design to collect dust in such a way; in either case, ew.) But now he's all cleaned out and set with a new fan. I've decided that taking computers apart and putting them back together is fun (especially when they actually work better when you put them back together than when you take them apart...Dad might have had something to do with that part).
Anyway, I'll probably actually blog more often again, now that I have a computer. Of course, I'm leaving for Europe in less than ten days, so the revival may be short-lived. Oh well.

Fathers

Happy Father's Day!
For Mother's Day, I shared a poem. I don't know of any father-poems off the top of my head. I'm sure there must be a sentimental one or two somewhere...
Dad's are definitely great enough to deserve some poetry in their honor, and much better poetry than the Hallmark people give to us.
Oh, here, I just thought of one, not from Hallmark at all:
Dad is great!
He gives us chocolate cake!
Short and sweet.
:)
We did Father's Day yesterday, really, with a nice taco lunch and some barbecue (there's nothing quite like freshly grilled corn on the cob...mmm). But I think we're having waffles today, and there are rumours that we're going to go on a photographically-inviting outing this afternoon so he can play with his camera. Which is great, because then I can play with mine, too.
I took some pictures the other day in Champoeg State Park (while I was trying out my backpack by hiking with it all packed, and deciding that it works wonderfully but that I'm really out of shape), but I haven't had the chance to post them yet, what with my computer being broken and such.

Computer Woes

My computer finally died. Well, the fan died at least (a horrible, slow, noisy death). It looks like it can be replaced, but it has made staying consistent with this whole blog thing a little more difficult. I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to hear more from the life of me, so I'm sorry to have disappointed lately.

Phone Adventures

As a pseudo-telemarketer, I have a new pet peeve: answering machine and voicemail-box messages which don't tell you who you're calling.
I left a few dozen phone messages today. Only two--yes, two--said who they were. The rest were friendly generic electronic people telling me "Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voicemail system. Please leave your message after the tone and your call will be returned."
Or there are the cute but equally useless ones: [cute little kid voice] "You've weached my Nonny and Poppop. The'll call you back. Okay, bye."
Or the people themselves who still don't bother to say who they are: "Hi, we can't come to the phone, but if you leave a message, we'll get back to you. God bless." (I get blessed a lot in my job. It's an extra perk.)
Sigh.
For all I know I spent all day leaving perky phone messages for random households all over Nevada who have never even heard of my employer, much less created a trust with them. Hmm. Maybe I should look at it as spontaneous advertising.
Oh, I think my favorite phone call this week was this one, though (names have been changed so I don't get fired):
me: Hi, may I please speak to Rachel?
female: Sorry, I think you have the wrong number.
me: Okay, thanks.
female: You mean Rachel Perkins?
me [confused voice]: Yes...
female: Yeah, she's not here right now. I'm her roommate.
me [more confused voice]: I'm sorry, did you say that I have the -wrong- number?
roommate [you're-obviously-stupid voice]: Yeah, you've reached her -roommate's- number. Can I give her a message?
me: Sorry, do you have her number, so I can just leave her a voicemail message, or reach her at a better time?
roommate: I don't know it by heart.
me [still more confused voice]: Oh...
roommate: So, do you have a message?
me: Well, this is Marybeth with Financial Planning Ministry, and I just have a quick question about her trust. Can I leave a number for her to call me?
roommate [happy-excited voice]: Oh, you're the people from that church? Aw, that's great. Yeah, I'll totally have her call you. I'm so glad you've called!
me [extremely confused voice]: Great...
--
People are weird. And I really wish they'd just take the two seconds to say who the heck they are on their answering machines.

Corvallis

Yesterday I headed down to Corvallis again to hang out with my friend Julie and do some final Europe-planning. It happened to be the same day as her OSU Chamber Choir concert, so I went to that (which was beautiful), but generally I just hung around and distracted Julie from her upcoming finals. Bwa ha ha.
This afternoon before I drove back up to Portland, we watched Disney's The Rescuers (you know, cute little mice--one with a charming Hungarian accent--rescue a poor little orphan girl from the psychotic pawn-shop-running, crocodile-raising, diamond-obsessed villain Medusa?). Ah, memories. Some traumatic memories, it's true (she's one scary lady), but nostalgia-inducing nonetheless.
Sunday school at her church was also really fun this morning. It's taught by a prof at OSU, and they're going through the ten commandments. Today was on the "Do not kill" commandment, and we had a lively (and pleasant) discussion ranging from imago dei to vegetarianism to capital punishment to retribution. Very interesting. It almost (but not quite) made me wish I was still in school right now.

Ballet

Tonight I went on a date with my dad to see Oregon Ballet Theatre's Russian program. It was lovely.
I love going to the ballet. It always makes me wish I could dance. (Not dance in front of thousands of people, though. Just dance, in general.)
Some of the duets were particularly beautiful, and--as always when I watch dancing--I was in awe of the strength and precision it takes to do something so incredibly graceful.
Also, one of the dances was set to a piece composed by Leo Tolstoy. Perhaps I reveal my ignorance when I say I didn't know that Tolstoy wrote music. Maybe it's a different Leo. Or maybe he just has talents hitherto unknown to me (like C.S. Lewis' hidden poetry-writing).

Clouds

Tonight the International Space Station flew over our house. Too bad I live in Oregon, and it's cloudy.
-looking into sky expectantly-
It did manage to peek between two clouds at one point. So I did see it. That's something.

Happy Birthday!

It was Amanda's birthday today. We went out to breakfast, did some used book shopping at Booktique, and made a fabulous tossed lasagna for dinner. (And icecream cone cupcakes, a strange phenomenon which apparently constitutes a tradition in the birthdays of Amanda.) I like it when other people's birthdays mean I get to eat really good food. Mmm.

Packing

It's funny. Regardless of where I'm going--remote villages or big cities or university, familiar or completely unfamiliar situations--one of the most stressful parts for me is packing. It doesn't phase me much to know I'll be entering a place where I don't speak the language or if I'm not sure what I'm going to eat when I get there...I'm always just paranoid that I'll overpack. And really, it's just because I want to be all hip and minimalist, and distance myself from the image of the notoriously overpacking/high-maintenance female. My pride gets really into this one: I'm not materialistic and vain and needy like all those other North Americans; I can live out of a single handbag for a month, just you watch.
But I am, and I can't.
Sigh.
Clothes are the most annoying part. I really would be happy with one set of clothes to wear and another to wash, but then there's the issue that I'll be hiking and museum-going and attending shows and experiencing the sweltering heat of Rome and the unpredictable downpours of Scotland all in the same trip. I have to bring three pairs of shoes on this trip, just to be culturally- and terrain-appropriate. Three. The very thought fills me with horror.
Of course, I'm finding this particular trip a bit more difficult in that it's the first time I've had to pack for international travel to a developed country. It's different. I'll be able to drink the water. And buy things there (although with the dollar as it is, that's probably not my first choice). And my emergency supply probably doesn't have to be as extensive. So maybe I'll be able to pack lighter after all...
But I still have to bring three pairs of shoes. Bah.

Posthumous Publishing

I started reading Stephen Jay Gould's The Hedgehog, the Fox and the Magister's Pox when I found out it was a posthumously-published book. I never quite know how I feel about that. What if he would have drastically changed parts of it, given the chance? What if he would have fixed things or omitted things or added important points? What if he never intended for this stage of his work to go before the public?
I write things in drafts that I never actually intend for people ("people" in the general audience sense, at least) to read.
Yeah, I just never know.