Mythology

A few more pieces of Reed tradition. They just keep turning up. First off, it is about the time of the senior thesis deadlines. One of the college's requirements is that all final year students write a substantial thesis before they leave, and then it gets filed away in the fancy fancy thesis tower in the library for all eternity. This means stress for seniors around now, and I noticed that when they've finished their thesis, they get to wear a pretty golden laurel wreath about the place. People run up and congratulate them, and they have a satisfied thesis glow. I do feel a little sorry for those people who haven't yet finished theirs though; everyone can tell.

To celebrate the happy occasion, and also because all our classes have finished for the year bar reading and finals weeks, this weekend is Renn Fayre. I think once upon a time it used to be one of those cheesy renaissance fayres that Americans seem to like, but now it has evolved into a massive history-free three-day partay. People have been telling me about it all year. Things happen there. Tell you about it after the event, if I can remember anything.

Plus, a senior told me the other day that apparently there are treasure boxes hidden in the library. You pick something up, leave something there: notes and candy and toys. Apparently they are in strange and secluded corners somewhere in the labyrinthine depths of the library. I really want to find one now!

Oh, and last week at Reed it was Nitrogen Day. Go figure.

Good sentence, Bad Sentence.

I've realised that now whenever I read a book for fun, to let my brain have a few precious moments away from the schoolwork, I can't escape from the mode of looking at each sentence according to whether I should underline it, or possibly write a paper about it later. I'm going to find myself highlighting passages in Entertainment Weekly next. Bloody Reed mentality.

Notes on Food: Part IV

Dear hearts, I want to talk today about something that is very important to me. Something that has become integral to my way of life. A thing infinitely precious in all its incarnations, bringing joy to me at every appearance. Yes, you've guessed it, my friends. I'm talking about Twizzlers.

God, they are so good. I just really like Twizzlers.

Thing is, I just can't actually work out why I like Twizzlers. They claim to taste like either strawberry or cherry, but really they are only notionally like these things; all they truly taste of is vaguely sweet berry, and 'essence of Twizzler', something which does not appear in nature. Plus the texture is kind of rubbery, if I'm honest. Reminiscent of lino, one could say. And yet I just can't stop eating them! Especially in movie theatres I can eat an awful lot, and I don't seem to be able to stop myself. I might as well face it, they're going to be a fixture for life. I must bring back truckloads to England with me; I don't suppose they ever go off.

A couple of Twizzler notes: Red Vines, while they may appear to be exactly the same item, are rubbish. If it looks like Twizzlers, is packaged like Twizzlers, but says 'Red Vines', step away from the product. Jeez, they might have actual flavour, can't have that.
Secondly, I got the Rainbow Twizzlers once for curiosity and Pride reasons, but it was a mistake. They taste just awful, despite bravely trying a new flavour for each colour of the rainbow. Indigo was especially bad. I guess I don't like all incarnations of Twizzlers after all.

Yet Another Post About Basketball

Heehee, I heart the basketball. But this is about the final Trailblazers game of the season last Wednesday, so it should be the last. Until the playoffs, hahahahaha! No, just kidding. Probably.

Kaia, Garon and I went to the last Blazers game against the Golden State Warriors, who are from Oakland California. The Warriors totally killed us, it was pretty embarassing. Although the Warriors are very good, and possibly destined to be in the playoffs, and I liked this beardy player they had callon Baron Davies, so I didn't really mind them winning. Oh! And they also had these really snazzy shiny orange shirts. I can forgive a team I approve of sartorially. Brandon Roy wasn't playing, but I also like Sergio Rodriguez and Travis Outlaw (Announcer: "Oooouuutlaaaaaaww..."). And that is all I know of the game. Also that I had a hotdog. (My description of basketball the other day: "Tall men bounce a round thing while you eat your food".) Don't make me a sports pundit quite yet.

After the game we went round to Garon's place, and drank hot chocolate with whisky in it, and he played his guitar. I like Garon's house, and it made me feel like I haven't been off campus enough. I was starting to forget that students live in places other than dorms. A lot of Garon's paintings were up on the walls, including one of himself as Napoleon.

Visitors From Outer Space!!

Ok, so they're not from outer space. I lied about that. I just thought that space would be more interesting than Huddersfield. Not that I don't love my home town, but it's just not Saturn, is it?

My friend Nick has been visiting for about a week and a half, Nick who I have known since we went to High School together and he used to nick my bunsen burner in Chemistry class and I used to pull his ears. Sadly he left yesterday, to visit San Francisco for a while before heading back to The Hudd. He enjoyed himself I think, and seemed to like Portland. I seem to remember he found it laid-back and full of hippies. What did we do with Nick? We showed him Powell's immediately, fed him pizza, took him to a wild on-campus party where there was much random smooching (I kissed several of my close friends, seemingly from a feeling that we might as well get it over with), showed him some sights, found him some romance, and ignored him in favour of work. I am sure it was educational. And now Nickleby has gone, just as he was starting to feel like part of the Reed furniture. Cruel fate!

Also, my parents are here. I saw them on Saturday, and then told them that I must ignore them til Thursday because of essay deadlines and social commitments. I am such a bad daughter. Well, I will see the parents tomorrow night when they will generously, and with no choice whatsoever in the matter, pay for dinner. Kaia finally gets to meet them too, hopefully Dad won't say anything too weird or museum curator-y. Ma and Pa are here for almost three weeks, so there should be plenty of time to catch up the many many months since I saw them. (Mind you, they wake me up with a phone call once a week, so I don't know if there's anything new to tell them.)

Field Trip

Last night we piled seven of us into Garon's not-so-large car and drove up to Mount Scott, a high point close to here that looks over Portland. We picked up some beverages along the way and arrived up there around 10:30ish; the aim was to watch the moon rise up beyond the city. Standing around in a dim field, drinking ginger ale and having a succession of group hugs to fight off the night time chill, we just managed to be a little merry before the yellow almost-full moon showed itself over the horizon. A short drive to another field and we could see the entire city spread out before us, all shiny. It definitely felt like the weekend. I love Thursdays.

Stupid Naked Reedies

I swear, there ought to be a 'nudist' box to tick on the Reed application form. Reedies, especially the irritating freshman Reedies, like to get naked at the least opportunity. Today they got naked because it is kind of sunny. Eating my lunch outside commons, I tried very hard not to look at the tree filled with about a dozen naked people behind me. Kaia mentioned that it was really an issue of invading one's eyeball space; she was also suspecting that some of the naked people were coming to her next class.

Eh, I don't mind really. I just seem to be rife with anti-hippie sentiments lately, and this lot were clearly feeling themselves very bohemian. I think the nakedness was partly a form of Prospie- baiting, since this week we have a lot of prospective students and their parents on campus. Being catcalled by a lawn full of naked freshmen is probably an informative part of the Reed tour.

Is Utaz Full of Jazz?

I think I must have more posts on this blog about basketball than any other topic. Bizarre. Does anyone remember me as any kind of sports fan back in England? I think you will recall me feeling the same about sports as I did about vegetables, and now here I am loving to watch the NBA. More than that, I even like carrots now! Both sides of my equation of dislike are compromised. What has this country done to me?!

So last night we went to the basketball, and had a fab time. It was one of the last three home games of the season, and the Portland Trailblazers were playing Utah Jazz. I have no idea why the Utah team is called that. Please let me know if Utah is in fact the birthplace of jazz, rather than just Mormons. We got very good seats for the game because Garon found us some $131 dollar tickets from a scalper for $30 each. I take back any misgivings I may have had about the illegality of scalpers. We were about 15 rows back, we could see the players so well; we could even see their tattoos clearly, and some of them were really bad. It was a great game, quite tense, and the final score was 79 Utah, 84 Portland. So chuffed that we won! It was all down to Brandon Roy, that bloke is a genius. Vote him in for Rookie of the Year.

Oh, my old friend Nick from Hudds is staying in Portland right now, I took him to the game. He's doing a tour of the states, mostly west coast cities for about 8 weeks. He's been on my floor for a while, but now he has moved on to a hostel on Hawthorne, so I'm free to sing Britney songs in my room again without fear of offending him. Excited to see him, and also looking forward to the fact that my parents are going to be here for a visit on Saturday! I haven't seen them since August, it seems like a very long time.