tavie.com

We're off to the city to have goil-y fun. I'll leave you with some Christmas cheer, Elfquest-style.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:34 PM | shower me with attention

It's Christmas and the house is full of goils.

Not enough goils, not yet at least, but still a goodly collection.

Laughter. All the time.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:20 AM | shower me with attention

Friday, December 20, 2002

Christmas Update:

Where is my Muppet Family Christmas video?

It's not like I have tons of requirements. Yes, I have an unhealthy emotional attachment to seasonal traditions that is unshared by the rest of my family and friends. Yes, I must have a tree. Yes, I must have my Nutcracker. And yes, I must obsessively view (in ascending order of importance) How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Mickey's Christmas Carol, Pee-Wee's Christmas Special and A Muppet Family Christmas each year. Is that a lot to ask? I don't force everyone to watch Mixed Nuts and A Muppet Christmas Carol and Miracle on 34th Street and The Ref and Home Alone (shut up, it's a fine Christmas movie) every year, do I? Those are optional, rotating Christmas viewing possibilities. But I do demand my Muppet Family Christmas. I do.

So where is it? Who stole it, who hid it?

If I don't find it, Christmas IS ruined. I'm just warning you.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:05 AM | shower me with attention

Thursday, December 19, 2002

Christmas Update:

Nutcracker found! He has his wooden arm "around" the naked Venus de Milo on the piano.

Tree decorated. All by myself, once again. How many years has it been since someone helped me decorate the tree? Five? Ten?

Star-shaped beacon blinking in the window. Backstory: We have this sad, old angel that we bought when we moved into this apartment to replace the cheezy, beloved, retired, retro blinking coloured star that was always on my childhood trees in Brooklyn. (I wonder what happened to that star.) The angel hasn't lit up for at least 8 years. Her satin dress is crumpled, showing the clear plastic skirt-molding underneath. Her porcelain eyes are downcast, as if ashamed at her shabbiness. Several years ago my mom bought a cheap, cheezy $3-dollar star of blinking gold lights and gold tinsel in an attempt to replace her. I couldn't stand to have that monstrosity on my tree, so every year I plug it in and set it in the window to flash, in hopes that Michael Palin and the knights of Camelot will see it and pay me a visit. Michael has not yet come to call, sadly. But I like the stupid star-shaped beacon.

Living room is fetively decked. Still messy and cluttered and full of junk, but a festive sort of mess.

So, an informal poll for those who participate in the tree thing:
What are your views on tinsel? (We're anti-tinsel.) What are your lights like-- coloured, white? Blinking or non? Big or little? (Ours are small, white, alternate blinking and twinkling.) Star or angel or something else? (See above.) Eclectic mishmash of ornaments, or unified theme? (Mishmash.) Real tree or fake? (Real, always, no question.) Green or otherwise? (I've seen some strange-looking silver trees, white trees, pink trees. I'm against that, personally.) If fake, big or little?

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:12 PM | shower me with attention

The Christmas Report:

This afternoon my male boss (whose secretary I work for) popped into my cubicle and laid a beautifully-wrapped box of Godiva chocolates on my desk. "Santa Claus came early," he said with his characteristic gentle smile. "And it's no-cal," he joked with a wink, patting me on the shoulder and disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Well. I almost cried, I was so touched. He's just such a nice man, always smiling at me and joking in a kindly-uncle sort of way. It's not even the gift itself-- I'm avoiding sweets-- but the gesture was so lovely.

Then, as I popped by my female boss (whom I work directly under)'s desk to drop a Christmas card on her desk (and one in HelloJoeWhaddyaKnow's office), she said, "I know you're leaving for a final now so you won't want to carry this, but don't forget to take it when you come in on Monday." And she opened a drawer and showed me a wrapped gift inside.

So sweet. It put me right in the holiday spirit. They're such nice folks. I'm sorry I had to miss the Christmas party for the final.

Then I got home and, hello, there's a box from one of my old Elfquest friends, Karen. She sends me something every year and I felt immediately guilty because we haven't emailed in so long, and I didn't send Christmas cards to any of my Elfquest friends this year. Not even Tea Rose, whom I actually have been talking to lately. Everything was just so slapped-together and last-minute and I didn't have my updated address book with me, so I just sent cards to a few people. I left the vast majority of people out.

I know Christmas isn't supposed to be about reciprocating, but giving and loving and such and so I'll just feel warm and grateful about these gestures of friendship, but I do wish I'd sent her something.

I've got everything set up for the tree, which I am leaving right now to go get, but I can't find the Nutcracker. I'm worried. If anything happened to Nutcracker I'll be very upset.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:45 PM | shower me with attention

I'M DONE!

Done-bun-can't-be-undone!

Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:19 PM | shower me with attention

I love my boss. I love my boss! The one to whom I always want to say, "Hello, Joe, whaddya know?" but never do? I love him!

I am full of the magic of Christmas right now.

A kind, sweet man, he is.
More later.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:40 PM | shower me with attention

Happy birthday, Terry!

I'm sorry we have to take a final on your birthday.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:08 PM | shower me with attention

Following Jen Pardilla's example, I went through this list and pulled out all the phobias I suffer from.

I don't understand how this one can be on there:

Zemmiphobia- Fear of the great mole rat.

and yet nothing about tree sloths or holocaust/explosions.

Anyway, my list:

Agateophobia- Fear of insanity.
Agliophobia- Fear of pain.
Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place.
Allodoxaphobia- Fear of opinions.
Anuptaphobia- Fear of staying single.
Apeirophobia- Fear of infinity.
Arsonphobia- Fear of fire.
Atychiphobia- Fear of failure.
Carcinophobia- Fear of cancer.
Catagelophobia- Fear of being ridiculed.
Coitophobia- Fear of coitus.
Coulrophobia- Fear of clowns.
Decidophobia- Fear of making decisions.
Diabetophobia- Fear of diabetes.
Didaskaleinophobia- Fear of going to school.
Dishabiliophobia- Fear of undressing in front of someone.
Emetophobia- Fear of vomiting.
Enosiophobia or Enissophobia- Fear of having committed an unpardonable sin or of criticism.
Ereuthrophobia- Fear of blushing.
Ergophobia- Fear of work.
Hypengyophobia or Hypegiaphobia- Fear of responsibility.
Obesophobia- Fear of gaining weight
Social Phobia- Fear of being evaluated negatively in social situations.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:29 AM | shower me with attention

Welcome to the third blog by a person I don't know to make it to the list. Got it from Boing Boing (the first!). Cool-looking New York news blog. And god knows I don't know what's happening in my own head, much less my city, most of the time. So this is good.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:35 AM | shower me with attention

Yet more people chime in.

I wish Apple had a "four repairs, get a new one" clause like that one guy's store does. I don't think my mom even bought this one from a store.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:02 AM | shower me with attention

Wednesday, December 18, 2002

Tomorrow night we're getting a tree.

Saturday we're getting digital cable.

Yeah, baby.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:17 PM | shower me with attention

One final down, one to go.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:02 PM | shower me with attention

I've replaced music (I can get my last humanities credit later, maybe I'll try film again next semester) with Elementary French. So my long dark road into Language Hell begins.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:31 PM | shower me with attention

Oh, hey! Can anyone explain this one to me? Every single "Intro to Computer Science" section I tried to register for gave me the error message, "Section only open to GRADUATING SENIORS".

Um. Why would an intro class only be open to the people who are gone after next semester?

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, mmmsoup.

I need. Science credits. To graduate. And this is. The only science. I can stand. To take. Goddammit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:21 PM | shower me with attention

I am not the only person with Broken Ethernet Port Syndrome. Witness:

This and this and this and this.

It has to be a design flaw. So, the question is: do we shell out $250 for the extended three-year warranty so that the next time it breaks, after my warranty runs out, I won't have to pay even more to have it repaired?

This fucking sucks.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:02 PM | shower me with attention

Tuesday, December 17, 2002

I just wished someone a good weekend, and it's Tuesday.

I hope she's sitting somewhere laughing at me, I really do.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:51 PM | shower me with attention

Well, I'm back to Tom Bombadil. Tom Bombadil is the reason I stopped reading Fellowship the first time around. I got to this chapter and slogged and slogged through it and it was so ridiculous and pointless and boring and it didn't seem to have anything to do with the story. I stopped at page 167 last time. Just gave up on the book. This time I am going to grit my teeth and get through it.

I couldn't just pick up and start again after T.B. either, because I'd forgotten everything that happened before. Which pretty much seemed to be: big party, Bilbo leaves, Frodo sells Bag End, Frodo and Sam and Pippin trudge through the woods, meet some elves, eat some mushrooms, hook up with Merry and Fatty, ditch Fatty and trudge through the woods some more. Not much going on, really.

Now it's Goldberry this and River-Daughter that and o-ho-ho and a Bombadillo, I could just puke.

And yet I am incapable of skipping anything. Have to read through it. I can't skim, either. I used to be able to skim but I lost that ability as an adult.

(Yes, my sociolinguistics final is tomorrow and my theatre final the day after and there are three plays that I never finished reading for theatre and yet I'm sitting around reading Tolkien. Well. I plan to improvise my way through the finals anyway, it's too close to Christmas for serious studying, dammit.)

Stupid Tom Bombadil, just go away. I want some action already.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:11 PM | shower me with attention

Thank Scott almighty, she's free at last!

She was a hard-working pumpkin. Very hard-working, very diligent. I am terribly proud of her.

I'm really just in love with this whole post, particularly the references to this fabulous movie, which I'd never seen before and taped Sunday night as I watched it with my goils. I think I found a new Important Life Metaphor, what with The Real Party going on upstairs with only the Misfits and the Losers in attendance, not to mention how that reference relates to Brain Candy, not to mention the fact that it stars my two favourite old-timey movie actors.

This morning I started bugging my family to get our Christmas tree. I think it will be tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I can't not have a Christmas tree, even if we won't be in the apartment for most of the time that it's there. It's not Christmas without our own family Christmas tree.

Back to work.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:41 PM | shower me with attention

Spring Semester Registration Blues. Did any bluesman (bluesperson?) ever record that one?

I got ceramics (last studio art needed for minor, girl from drawing said ceramics is fun, o-tay!), intro to music (fulfills some general requirement. The first time I actually get into a film class-- same requirement-- and the film class doesn't fit into my @#&*$# schedule, so I'm stuck with music), intro to prehistoric archaeology (that would be the easy version of the class I passed at Columbia that they're still making me take here for some reason in order to fulfill my major).

Also got popular culture, which I don't need but which looks fun, except that it's on Fridays and I really don't like having classes on Fridays, I prefer a 3-day weekend. Also if I can possibly overtally into the Anthro Research Design class that I really need, I'm dropping Pop Culture. Sadly.

The saddest verse in Spring Semester Registration Blues: no class with Terry this semester. He already took music and doesn't need any art or anthro, naturally. Why would an economics major need art or anthro. I am sad, we've taken a class together every semester for the past three terms. What will I do without him?

They say the Researh Design class is "closed". I hope that means that it's closed in general, and not just closed to non-majors, because then it's entirely my fault for never getting around to declaring my major like I meant to all semester.

I suck.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:15 PM | shower me with attention

Monday, December 16, 2002

Saw a huge Hedwig poster in the subway today. 23rd street. This still. It was for the Sundance Channel. Nice.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:10 PM | shower me with attention

Oh: my iBook is back in commission. Everybody rejoice!

Can't you feel a brand new day,
Can't you feel a brand new day,

et cetera, et cetera.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:11 AM | shower me with attention

I could bring whole cities to ruin
and still have time to get a soft-shoe in

= Hinton Battle =

They got some jacket and pants, found a brown paper bag
and then they filled it with straw and to top off the drag
they gave me pencilled-in eyes, a pencilled-in nose
and then they stuck me up there and said, strike me a pose!

Ha! Sweet-Scarecrow.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:08 AM | shower me with attention

If anyone knows any special ways of apologizing to a ghost, please let me know.

(The story is: yesterday afternoon, me and Gina and Kitana were watching something on the History Channel about ghosts, and we got to talking and Gina told us about a ghost that she used to see when she was a kid, all the way up until she grew up and moved to Jersey, and her sister saw it and her aunt and her grandmother. And I scoffed and said that stories like that are always second- and third-hand, and that there are always rational explanations and it's no coincidence that you see them when you're in bed because you're dreaming, etc. Later on we went to Circuit City and Gina handed me twenty dollars for something and I put it in my wallet. Not twenty minutes later I took out my wallet and it was gone. I looked everywhere. I turned everything inside-out. I retraced my steps. The twenty never reappeared. This morning I got to work early because I left from Mint Manor, and so I had breakfast in the Lemon-Lime diner. After the waitress gave me the check, I took out my wallet. There was another twenty-- a different one-- I had taken out the day before (AFTER losing the first one at Circuit City), a five and two singles. I put the two singles on the table and put the wallet away, got my coat on, etc. Then I took the check to the front counter and opened the wallet and the twenty was gone. Yes, the wallet is falling apart and there's a hole in it, but I spent fifteen minutes emptying my bag, pockets and everything else I could empty. I crawled around the sticky diner floor. The twenty had vanished. Two twenties in two days. No. I believe in ghosts now, I do. I may be prone to losing things but never two twenties in two days in the exact same manner both times. The Man in the Black Cape turned my wallet into a Twenty-Dollar-Bill Vortex to punish me for scoffing at Gina's story.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:25 AM | shower me with attention

Dear Man in the Black Cape,

I don't know why I said it. I'm sorry I said it. I'm usually more open-minded. I really am. Maybe I was in a bad mood yesterday. I hadn't had my coffee yet, you know. Hey, you have to believe me. My father raised me to have a healthy respect for the supernatural.

I'm really, really, really sorry I said I didn't believe in ghosts.

Please give me my forty dollars back. I really need them. It's the last I have until I paid again in a week and a half.

I'm sorry. Ghosts are great and I will never disparage them again.

Your humble and sincerely apologizing,
Tavie

P.S. I hope you don't mind my posting this to my blog, I don't know how to send regular mail to a ghost. I also asked Gina to tell you I'm sorry.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:19 AM | shower me with attention

Sunday, December 15, 2002

Oh! OH! Yesterday we were all at the supermarket buying food and stuff and I saw CURRANTS!!! And I bought the currants and I ate the currants! Never saw currants in an American supermarket before.

I miss Sweden. I love currants.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:30 PM | shower me with attention

I went to put Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles on my wish list and I was looking for a complete set because I want new copies of all of them and you know what? There is no boxed set of the Prydain Chronicles in print.

Muh.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:29 PM | shower me with attention