I need a metal spork

Or maybe even a set of four. After all, who doesn't want to eat off a spork once in a while.

I was making ramen last night and was just entirely indecisive about whether to use a fork or spoon. A fork grabs the noodles, but misses the warm, filling broth, while a spoon gets the broth, but all the noodles fall off. Which is when I uttered my desire for fine spork-ware. I've yet to find it through Oneida or any other flatware retailer, but I think I've stumbled on to something brilliant. Imagine just one utensil at the table for that home, quick meal. Little clean up and all scrumptiousness. I also think it would work particularly well for mac-n-cheese.

So what led up to this late-night ramen meal was my first USDA grad school class of the semester: Microeconomics. It's such a wonderful thing to actually experience intellectual stimulation in a day. I was a little worried about how I'd last through a 3 hour class on Monday evening. Surprisingly, I found myself so much more awake and engaged for that three hours than most of my previous 8/9 hour day. It's a wonder what interest and engagement can do for my energy and stamina.

What's even more exciting is my professor. He's got this wizened, older gentleman feel about him and he talks in a very deliberate, slow cadence. It's great for taking notes, but it also gives this air about him that he's in no hurry and you can take a little time to understand what he's saying. Sometimes it's funny, others take a second to go through some disagreements and apply his reasoning to them. The one thing I've always been frustrated about in economics is how you tend to learn in this bubble of theory. The assumption that people are rational and will do what's in their best interest (buy at a lower cost) just doesn't play out in the real world. The fact that he not only addressed this, but made a joke of "no, no one has ever seen two gas stations across the street from each other with different gas prices," just made my heart warm. I really have no problem learning the theory and bubble rationality of economics, but sincerely admire the admittance that it's just not the case in the real world.

I raise my spork to learning in a bubble.

Proud Ticketholder

I got tickets to one of the Obama Inaugural Balls!! Can I just say how ecstatic I am. I hope I get to go to the DC Neighborhood Ball-- so excited that it's being included. The tickets are available through the Presidential Inauguration Committee for a donation. Because I only made the minimum, I get placed in a ball based on my zip code. Well, that's fine with me. Maybe I'll even meet some neighbors.

I'm so excited I can hardly contain it. Now I have to go pick out which of my 18 gowns (no joke) I'll wear!

The Truth Revealed

One Lucky Australian.

If you want to get technical,

VODKA is practically a health drink if you just call it potato juice. . .
which it really is, anyway.

~New Year's card from my mom

Hubris

There are lots of stories about how Obamas have moved into the Hay-Adams hotel so their kids could start school at the beginning of the winter term. What remains an understated point of fact is that they were rejected from staying in the Blair House, the traditional residence of president-elects before the inauguration. They will finally be let in on January 15, only 5 days before they will be moving in to the white house.

What astounds me is the blatant display of Bush hubris. He's already been deemed one of the worst US presidents of American history. But just to rub it in a bit more, the rudeness displayed in refusing a man to take up residence for the sake of his children astounds me. And this from a "good ol' values" man just proves how disconnected he is from true Southern hospitality.

So now that the elections are over and it seems Bush will "retire" on a few boards of directors, the true New Englander returns. I wonder if the accent will disappear as well.

Resolution

I'm not normally one to make new year's resolutions. I'm very bad about keeping them. I therefore have a hard time coming up with a good resolution until around March or April and usually don't commit to it then because I've missed so much of the year already.

I've been toying around with a few things in my head lately. Of course the usualy food and fitness goals are there, but I've been bad about fully committing myself to either. But today I had a good focus on putting myself in the attitude for new year's resolutions.

I've already committed myself to slowing down and taking things easy, not let stress overwhelm me and not agreeing to do everything I'm asked and then regretting it later. I am doing pretty well on that front, picking and choosing how I want to spend my time and NOT scheduling something every night of the week and weekend.

So I picked my new year's resolution to go in line with that. I want to start journaling. Not an every day journal of daily activities, but a more occassional, personal, and emotional journal of my internal struggles and concerns. Blogging is a great way to vent on issues or share exciting ideas, but not really how I want to open myself up. I sometimes think of great things I'd love to blog, but don't really want to divulge that much or don't think anyone else would really care to read it. However, none of these things are great worries for me with a journal. Then I can take a look at what I've written over time and review how far I've come in the year, what I need to work on, or just let go.

So at last, I have a comitted, attainable new year's resolution! Now I'm looking forward to many other great things in 2009.

Jabberwocky

Isn't language a funny thing? It helps us communicate a whole range of emotions to one another. Albeit, not our only means of communication, nonetheless a vital one. Scholars have remarked on how languages change and adapt. Recently, these scholars bemoan the shrinking of the average person's vocabulary. While I would argue that the average person in modern society is far more educated and therefore truly has a much greater vocabulary than the counterpart of a century or so ago, I must admit that this brings me to another query.

Does language define our thoughts or do our thoughts define our language? Sadly, this is not my own brilliant question, but one that was raised in a particularly amazing history class that I can no longer remember it's real title and refer to it merely as "the meaning of life class." Anyway, I would tend to side with the former version of the question, having spent many instances writing a paper and trying to pull the word out of thin air. And yet, I am drawn back to my favorite poem ever since I had to memorize it for my 8th grade English class. It may be mostly nonsense, but you sure do know what it means.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

--Lewis Carroll