What's in a name?

My archives professor has called me Ms. Gray, Rebecca, Becky, and Andy. He seems to think this is funny. He will call other students Ms. [insert last name here], and one girl he calls "Sarah with an H," but I don't believe he's called anyone else by their middle name. And I don't recall his ever actually calling me Andi. He tried tonight, but it came out as Andy, and I didn't feel like correcting him. I guess I don't mind though. It's more amusing than anything.

All Star

I have just spent way too much time here. If you scroll over the compass thing you'll find a link to design your own! How fun is that? Parents, you might find something here on my Christmas list...

I lied, and a story

Well duh, plaster doesn't fall from the ceiling for no reason. Of course water has dripped. I just didn't see it, or bother feeling the floor. But then I heard it. Now my trash can is under the leak and there is a lovely drip...drip...drip happening. I'll have to dampen that somehow before I go to bed.

Now for a little story. When I was a kid, I liked to imagine that I lived back in Little House on the Prairie days. During the summer I watched that tv show every day (I read some of the books too, don't worry), and I also liked reading the American Girl books. Anyway, when I would go to my grandmother's house (in Santa Fe) I would, for some unknown reason, pretend it was back in the day and there was no electricity. The way this actually played out was when I'd go to use her (pink) bathroom I would first pretend to light a pretend match for a pretend candle, and somewhere in the required motions to light said pretend match I would flip on the light switch. Then when I was done I would blow on the light switch and discretely flip it off on my way out. I remembered this fun tidbit-from-Andi's-childhood in class tonight, and thought I would share it with you all.

Update on the Soggy Ceiling

I don't think water ever actually dripped through the ceiling, but chunks of plaster fell off in a different spot, so it must have spread. This has obviously happened before, because there are large patch jobs around that area. I think from now on when it rains a lot I will have to stare at the ceiling. Fun times. At least the apartment people are good about fixing (or covering over...) problems right away.

Grandparent Games

My O'Brien grandparents are Rook players. My whole life a visit to the grandparents (which meant a vacation at the grandparents, since they always lived far away, until I moved in with them, of course) was accompanied by Rook playing. It's a fun game, and my grandparents make it more fun that usual, being the awesome and hilarious people that they are. Grandma loves to take the bid. Grandpa has fun sayings for just about everything. If a player calls out that trumps are black (or red on occasion) he replies "the color of my true love's hair." If trumps are green or yellow he might instead say "the color of my true love's teeth." Score sheets are often posted on the refrigerator (there are two up right now), and Grandma has been known to make long distance and awkwardly-timed phone calls to share a particularly good score.

My Gray grandparents, on the other hand, are Dominos and Trionimos players. As a kid they used to take my brother and I camping for several days at a time during the summers. At night we'd sit around the table in the camper with the kerosene lantern and play games. Granddad also created a game we played outside called "Washers." He had two short tubes of wide PVC pipe that he put in the ground after digging a little hole, and we would stand back and toss large flat washers that he'd painted into the holes, sort of like Horseshoes. Every time someone took a turn he'd pull out his little pad of paper from his shirt pocket and mark down the score. I think he usually won, too.

Nice

It's been raining buckets all day, and some of that rain has found its way between the apartment above me and my living room ceiling. Maybe it will dry? Maybe it will pool and cave in? I'll get to play the fun "wonder what my apartment looks like" game when I get back after the Thanksgiving weekend.

Some Numbers

I have been to thirty states. I do not count states where I was only in an airport. That's cheating.

I have been to fifteen countries on two continents. I also think it would be interesting to visit Mongolia, in case you were wondering.

I have had seven jobs, not counting my current TA position, which doesn't seem like a job.

I have lived in three capital cities, and a total of four states.

I have lived with three dogs. But not all at once.

I have been roommates with four girls. Again, not all at once.

I have kissed five boys all at once. No, just kidding.

I have broken a total of zero bones, and been in a total of zero car accidents. So far.

I have five first cousins, and I was the first grandchild on both sides.

I met four of my great grandparents. I just realized it's strange that a "great aunt" and a "great grandmother" are in two different generations. Hmmm...

I was a camper at six different summer camps, and went to some of them more than once.

I can only remember six phone numbers off the top of my head. Well, seven, but one of those isn't in use anymore since my mom left that job.

Besides living with my parents, I have lived in three other homes with families (ok, one family, one couple, and one widow).

I have voted twice.

Friends have thrown surprise birthday parties for me twice. I was surprised both times.

I did it!

This morning I ran around the lake twice without stopping. That's over four miles. This is a big day, people. A BIG DAY. Now wish me luck as I write my archives paper.

See how she runs

I have doubled my success rate of running all the way around the lake without stopping since I last posted about it. In fact, the last four times I've tried (Sat, Mon, Wed, Fri) I have succeeded. I am making great progress. The next step is to keep going after I've done a lap. Before you know it I will be running marathons. Yes, I made that plural. Oh, and I forgot to tell you all that the other day a squirrel dashed out in front of me and I almost stomped on him. That would have been a disaster.

Twice now I have made a crazy macaroni and cheese/squash/corn dish. I like it. I got the idea from my Rachel Ray book, but she makes it all fancy and I don't have lots of the things her recipe requires, so I tweaked it. Part of tweaking it means I use a box of Kraft blue box macaroni and cheese, rather than making it from scratch. Also, I think I use the wrong kind of squash, but I use what I've got! I have not been very good at cooking this semester. I mostly eat sandwiches. In fact, I've only made my Andilicious burritos once since I've lived here, and that is usually a staple for me! Other than the Rachel Ray thing, the only other time I looked in my cook books this semester (I think) was to see how long to cook hard-boiled eggs.

socks full of memories

Socks are more exciting when they spark fond memories. I have some socks like that.

First, there are my regular Interlochen socks. At Interlochen (a music and arts camp in Michigan) the color of a girl's socks signifies which age group she's in, so I came back from my summer there in 1999 with a whole bunch of light blue socks. I still wear them all the time, despite how worn the heels are (because seriously, unless you take your shoes off who will ever know?). When I put these socks on I'm not reminded of Interlochen so much as I'm reminded of my friend Allison from college, who also went to Interlochen and who used to notice my socks and think it was funny I still wore them.

Next there are two pairs of white ankle socks that are tied to bowling. In the summertime if you're wearing flip flops you run into a problem at the bowling alley, and that situation has led to two new pairs of socks for me. First there is the pair my friend Becca from Santa Fe let me borrow one summer during college. I washed them and tried to give them back (I think months later...) but she said I could keep them, so I did. I like Becca, and those socks remind me of her. Then I was at a bowling alley in Johnson City, TN, when I drove my friend Katie there so she could be in a wedding (but don't worry, the wedding wasn't actually in the bowling alley). We all went bowling, but the groom had to go buy a package of socks for most of us, due to the above-mentioned flip-flop situation. That was a fun time, which makes those fun socks.

Briefly I will mention my cell group socks. Cell group was my girls Bible study in college, and one Christmas our leader Machelle gave all of us fuzzy gray socks. I only wear them in the winter, but it's nice to remember those girls when I do.

My favorite socks full o' memories are my Swedish socks. They are not Swedish at all, they are actually a different kind of Interlochen socks. At Interlochen our formal concert wear was a light blue collared shirt, navy corduroy knickers, and knee-length light blue socks. When I got back to Santa Fe I wore (and still wear) those socks (in the winter, under pants, because it's cold in the winter and those socks keep half my legs warm) and my friend Celia said they looked Swedish. Then she made up a song about them, which we still occasionally sing when we're together. The end of the song goes, "Swedish socks, bagels and locks, la la la la la la la, Andi is a Swedish girl, yah!" I bet you are all wishing you had a fun song about your socks too, yeah?

A List of Things

Today I ran all the way around the lake without stopping. That was only the third time it has ever happened, because I usually end up getting a cramp and have to stop and walk. The path was covered in leaves, and it was a beautiful day.

I can sit in a coffee shop doing homework for over five hours and still have a sip of my latte left when I leave. This happened today.

I need to go to a fun concert soon. If I hear good music on the radio or on a cd, it sometimes makes me ache on the inside because I want to experience it live.

Driving home tonight I heard "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" on the radio, in honor of Veteran's Day, and it made me cry.

When I am sad I immediately want to call my mom.

Today I learned that a burrito is not, in fact, a sandwich. But I never thought it was.

I am reading a book for class titled Managing Historical Records Programs, and it makes me excited to be a public historian.

TA

I just got my TA assignment for next semester, and I'm doing Technology in History again, but with a different professor. Soon I will pretty much be an expert and you can ask me anything. Want to know about James Watt and the steam engine? Or how about the horseless carriage, refrigerated railcar, or the ill-fated airship? Just ask me, because I know.

Piano Lessons

I'm sitting at my desk taking notes on ethics in archives and I have the classical station playing in the other room (one of the rare moments when I'm not listening to NPR). A piano sonata by Beethoven is playing, and it's taking me back to all my years of piano lessons and practice. Right now those memories are filling me with conflicting feelings. Often when I hear piano music I miss playing, but for some reason the particular piece I just heard reminds me of waiting for my weekly lesson in college and hearing music come from the other piano professor's studio. My professor was always running fifteen minutes late, without fail, so I would sit there in the hall full of dread and anticipation over my upcoming lesson. My first couple years at college were rough when it came to piano, because I didn't practice long or well enough. I didn't have enough time to practice, and piano had become an obligatory chore (I was on scholarship for it) rather than something I enjoyed. I have this great fear of disappointing people, and every week I felt like a big disappointment for my professor.

But then I think back to high school, when I enjoyed piano more. I also played the cello, and when I look back I think it's crazy how almost every day of the week I had some music-related activity to go to. One day was my piano lesson, another was my cello lesson, Sunday evening was youth symphony, and often there was some other rehearsal for an ensemble group thrown in there as well. Plus practicing, of course.

And now I don't play any music at all. I played the piano a tiny bit at my grandparents house this last weekend, and that was the first time I'd touched a piano since August. It's kinda sad.

Teacher's Pet, sort of

I don't think "teacher's pet" is the right phrase, because I'm not getting preferential treatment or anything, but I have somehow entered a special relationship with one of my professors. "Special relationship" isn't right either- it sounds sketchy even (don't worry, he's gay), but you get the idea.

The whole process is a long story (which I just tried to explain but found too confusing and boring to write), so suffice it to say it involves him and me enjoying a play together, visiting the NC Museum of Art together, and me saying things in class like "do we really have to do all these activities in the book as part of our group tour project? Don't you know we're just going to make this stuff up at the last minute?" or retorting to his comment about looking forward to laughing at our tours with "yeah, or you'll be amazed."

This leads us to tonight's class, in which he announced to everyone how we'd criticized art at the museum together; said he was reminded of me while doing tonight's reading because "Andi hates bureaucracy and rules;" and later referenced me again as being "against The Man." I think it's funny he sees me this way, because it's pretty much the opposite of how I've been viewed most of my life. My old boss at the coffee shop once told a customer "Andi is the most conservative girl I've ever met from New Mexico." Surely I land somewhere in the middle.

What do a Bee, Space Girl, Flava Flav, Monica Lewinsky, and a 40s Movie Star all have in common?

They were all at the history grad student party last Saturday! You can't see them very well, but notice my awesome tin foil-covered hiking boots. I won a small package of Mexican macaroni for "Best Last Minute Costume."

Carry me back to old Virginny

(Let's just concentrate on the title, not the rest of the controversial song, okay?)

Get excited folks, because this weekend Andi is headed back to Richmond! Hurray! It's been so long! I'm excited to see my grandparents and Danny, and I'm excited to see friends, so anyone want to hang out?!