chotto dake, every day

I'm gradually becoming aware of just how much of an impact these little "greener" changes I've been making have. I started using my steel mug (only the lid is plastic) at coffee shops and for my tea. All the cups and plastic lids I avoid just make me smile a little - and I get a discount to boot. I've also been trying to use up all my teabags and switch back to looseleaf tea- just have to remember to bring paper bags or metal containers with when I buy it so it doesn't end up in plastic anyway! I have managed to bring paper bags for my bulk nuts and granola, which saves plastic but I have to remember to put it in something else when I get home. Maybe someday I'll be able to afford nice canvas sacks for that and my produce!
I've come up with a bold plan: it's hard for my to be as environmentally friendly as I'd like the way I live now, but in just two months I'll be on my own in France for a semester. I intend to use that time for an experiment: I'll try to cut out my plastic use as much as possible, reduce my impact. Expect to see plenty about that here starting in January!

hello blue sky

New iPod means new ways of torturing my eardrums. I now have the option of listening in bed sans earphones, which really is quite nice for falling asleep listening to radio plays.
Seems to me most people nowadays feel that a radio is for music and talk shows. That may not be true everywhere, but around these parts people seem to have forgotten about the audio play. Personally I love the mysteries and sci-fi adventures where you have to imagine the scenery and characters only from voices and sound effects. I think too many people have come to rely on movies and television doing all their thinking for them, and this has led to a dwindling imagination.
Unless of course they are trying to use their amazing internet powers for macroey evil... But then that's just wrong.

Things that make me wish I was still in Boulder

A few months ago I noticed an article on the BBC website about a blogger who was going to try spend a month without using any plastic. Reading her entries throughout the month made me start to realize just how much waste I went through on a typical day, and I decided to start doing something about it.
I've started simple. I bring reusable bags to the grocery store. I bought a metal water bottle to replace my broken plastic one. I've been bringing my own cutlery (pictured above) around with me and declining the plastic ware with my takeout. Actually, I'd been doing that for quite a while now - I got that spoon and chopsticks set back in Korea, and had been carrying them in my backpack for those times when I can't find any silverware. They do have quite a bit of plastic in them, but are still better than using disposable ones.
After starting to read other plastic-free blogs, I've become more committed to this idea. This isn't easy in my current state, though. I do what I can where I can, and just try to reduce my impact one step at a time. Today I ordered a glass straw and reusable tea bags and coffee filters over the internet. I think they should help me reduce my waste, even just a little at a time. I'll keep looking for new ways to change my lifestyle, reduce my impact, just a little bit at a time.

We'll see how it goes. I think it's important to look critically at what we do... Stop being so careless all the time! That'll probably be the hardest thing for me.

Do you have to be emo to be a poet?

Six weeks of analysing French poetry has led me to a simple conclusion.

Poets are angsty. Angsty and emo.

Maybe it's not their fault - some tragic happening in their life caused all ther problems; nonetheless they seem to write depressing poetry far more often than cheerful.

L'Horloge (The Clock) - Charles Baudelaire
(this page has an englsh translation for the non-francophones)

Horloge! dieu sinistre, effrayant, impassible,
Dont le doigt nous menace et nous dit: «Souviens-toi!
Les vibrantes Douleurs dans ton coeur plein d'effroi
Se planteront bientôt comme dans une cible;

Le Plaisir vaporeux fuira vers l'horizon
Ainsi qu'une sylphide au fond de la coulisse;
Chaque instant te dévore un morceau du délice
À chaque homme accordé pour toute sa saison.

Trois mille six cents fois par heure, la Seconde
Chuchote: Souviens-toi! — Rapide, avec sa voix
D'insecte, Maintenant dit: Je suis Autrefois,
Et j'ai pompé ta vie avec ma trompe immonde!

Remember! Souviens-toi! prodigue! Esto memor!
(Mon gosier de métal parle toutes les langues.)
Les minutes, mortel folâtre, sont des gangues
Qu'il ne faut pas lâcher sans en extraire l'or!

Souviens-toi que le Temps est un joueur avide
Qui gagne sans tricher, à tout coup! c'est la loi.
Le jour décroît; la nuit augmente; Souviens-toi!
Le gouffre a toujours soif; la clepsydre se vide.

Tantôt sonnera l'heure où le divin Hasard,
Où l'auguste Vertu, ton épouse encor vierge,
Où le Repentir même (oh! la dernière auberge!),
Où tout te dira Meurs, vieux lâche! il est trop tard!

Notable exceptions: Poems for children?

Wind on the Hill - A. A. Milne
No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It's flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn't keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes...
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

I don't know about that. Sure, the poem sounds happy when you're six, but if you really look at it, it feels like unanswered questions- a perfect metaphor for life.

Maybe I'm just not one who's easily impressed, but it doesn't seem like it should be so hard to write a poem that really is about nice things, not just using nice things as metaphors for pain, suffering, and death. I'd try it myself, but somehow every time I do it turns into song lyrics sans music. Maybe someone should get on that... I'll practise my bass, we could form a band.

It's still not poetry, though. Somehow it seems like that's a less desirable career than it once was.

Oh how my angsty little emo heart breaks.

Autumn

Harmony

Fall just seems like that time of year... You know, the time of year when every little thing just slows down to a trickle as the leaves shrivel up and die. Lovely, no? So for some reason this time of year I get these strange urges. I just want to sit by the fireplace, sip some tea, knit a scarf, and crank up the phonograph.

I'm not entirely sure why, but this chilly weather seems ideal for listening to calmer music - John Denver, James Taylor, Gordon Lightfoot... And of course this all just sounds better on vinyl. I feel transported, brought back to a time I never lived in, never experienced, but somehow feels closer to me than modern times do. Yet at the same time, I'm not the kind of audiophile who only listens to LPs... Most of my music is digital, on my computer.

But we can all live together, right? In, dare I say, harmony?

Welcome to my world...

So it would appear I created this blog in 2005, right as I was beginning my freshman year of college. At the time I had every intention of using it, keeping the friends back home informed of my wacky adventures several thousand miles away at the University of Colorado. However, it would seem that faded almost as quickly as it began, because I made not even a single post. It didn't take long before I returned to Minnesota and the University thereof, forgetting completely this blog and my lofty plans for it.
So I return. Now that all of this is merged with google I've had the brilliant idea of keeping thoughts here, those less private and perhaps more prose and poetic-like. I've also revived or created blogs for various languages I've been studying, because what better than to practise writing, even if no one else reads it? I'm not a professional writer, but hey... If I can share my misadventures in other languages and writings in this one, perhaps I won't have everything so bottled up and driving me mad.