Academia Saturday

<- This is where I study and eat crunchy peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwiches. On white bread. The room is in Suzzallo Graduate Library. It is quiet.

Please don't tell me if baby cows are this cute, because I think they're delicious.

My Outer Child

Remember when I swore I was blonde, and then I realized that my hair was the same color as my eyes, and my eyes were brown? I had to admit I was a brunette. It was horrifying.

Flying to Albuquerque, I came to a similarly difficult realization: I am not sophisticated and cosmopolitan.

I was connected to the armrest by potentially lice-ridden headphones and perusing United Airlines' radio stations. (XM? Sirius? I don't remember! Bad advertising, satellite radio company!) After a little bit of Avril Lavigne on the "Top 20" station (it's like Top 40, except half as cool), I started flipping through the channels. Then, a brilliant little ditty stopped me.

"My feet take me everywhere, take me off to anywhere, I love my feet. (Choir: He loves his feet!) Out into the street I go, dancing to the beat you know, I love my feet. (Choir: He loves his feet!) My feet, they got five little toes apiece! They bring you joy that just doesn't cease...."

It was amazing. I was smiling. Then the DJ came on. "That was Peter Himmelman with 'Feet." Before that we had They Might Be Giants. Remember when They Might Be Giants was writing songs only for adults? I'm so glad they're making music for kids like us, now!"

Yes, reader! I was loving the kids station! It's like I'm not even a graduate student who wears cashmere scarves and has learned to tolerate martinis!

So, I'm going to take away "mature-as-evinced-by-fancy-taste-in- music" from my List of Attributes. I will add "youthful." For your records, here is an abridged version of the aforementioned list:
-Youthful
-Jocular
-Racquetbally
-Accomplished
-Formidable
-Kelly Jean Waldenesque

I will hear your suggestions for other attributes to add, unless it is "Cooler-than-NicUnCool." Everybody knows this already, and I don't want to make her feel any worse than she already must, what with the personality and all.

They ask me how I do it, and simply I reply:

After a satisfying evening on the racquetball court, I decided to go professional. I looked at the women's pro league website and was even more inspired after the stirring "This is Why I'm Hot" intro.

But it's been an hour - ten minutes longer than my typical dream persists - and now I'm not sure about the pro future. I've changed a lot since I first made the goal of going professional. I've been head-butted by the cat. I drank hot chocolate. Heck, I even got into my pink sweats.

So, we'll see where the future takes me.

We agree that as a group they're rather stupid.

The KJW Analysis

New Hampshire votes tomorrow. You know how excited I am? So excited that I am AGAIN going to wear my red shirt, white camisole, and blue jeans. Last time, it was a coincidence. Tomorrow, it is pure, 100%, American patriotism.

To be honest, I don't care which of the probable candidates gets NH's electoral votes. I like both Obama and Clinton, and I will say yes when either of them ask me to run as their VP.

Hypothetical Person could ask, "But what about the Repubbers, KJW?"

I could respond, "First, Hypothetical, I'd like to applaud you for using the word 'Repubbers.' It's adorable and fun, and the right-wingers will adopt the term if they know what's good for them. As for my thoughts on the leading NH Repubber candidates, Huckabee and McCain...

"While I disagree wildly with The Hucks and moderately with McCain on most issues, both of them seem to have some level of moral fiber that Rudy 'Kelly Didn't Hate Me in the Debates But She Still Understandably Despises Me' Giuliani lacks.

"More importantly, however, is that the country would not elect a Baptist Minister into office. I would not allow it. I would put on an apron (mostly to fit in, but also because they're cute), stroll into those evangelical towns, bake them cookies, and tell them how my business-owning boyfriend hunts. Once they adored me and were convinced I was one of them...

...ok, I haven't got past the apron part. But I would think of something.

"And if McCain eventually gets the nomination rather than Hucky Huckerson, and then is somehow elected into office, I would simply frown and say, 'This is bad, but it could have been worse, and I will not leave the United States in protest.

"In sum, Hypothetical Asker, the Demmers will be fine no matter what. The Repubbers will either choose someone unelectable (and undelectable, for that matter) or someone not 100% stupid. Together, we can deal."

Hypothetical Asker could say, "You da bomb, Kelly Jean."

I could say, "Yes, a Democratic information bomb!"

Then we could watch CNN and eat unblended chunks of blueberry and banana in yogurt.

Appliance despair

My heart is broken, because my hand blender is broken.

I was preparing tomorrow's blueberry-banana breakfast smoothie, you see, when the machine stopped whirring. Clearly, it has something against alliterations. It had no problem with previous smoothies.

It's Frugal '08, so I must hold off on a replacement. If I were to buy one, though, it might be red. Or black. Or stainless steel! Until then, however, I will eat my fruit as a solid.

I'm such a trooper.

Blue ball jokes are always funny.

To celebrate the likely getting of a racquetball partner, I am going to show you this awesome picture I found online:

You're welcome.

Georgia O'Keeffe says,

"Singing has always seemed to me the most perfect means of expression.... It is so spontaneous. Since I cannot sing I paint."

Santa Fe: It Was There

I'm back in Seattle. It's cloudy. In New Mexico, it is not so cloudy.

I'll post more pictures, but here are a few taken on our Santa Fe day. (Intentional rhyme.) All are camera phone quality. In fact, a few are camera phone after margarita quality. Forgive me.

All the buildings we saw in Santa Fe were pueblo style. This was one of my favorite hotels. The lights are luminarias. They are, in my always-correct opinion, the classiest holidays decorations.

Here are the fellows in the Plaza. (Maybe it's just the "plaza" - lowercase. I refuse to spend time on official names.) (Well, any MORE time. You know.) Gabriel is on the left, my brother is in the middle, and John is on the right. I love them. These folks took my trip from pretty swell to I-need-to-go-back-immediately swell.

This is the Saint Francis of Assisi Cathedral. Actually, it is MORE than a cathedral (which, for you non-Catholic weirdos, is the church for the bishop of a certain archdiocese) (and you might not exactly know the definition of a bishop or have even heard of an archdiocese, but I am done being responsible for your education). It is a basilica! And no, a basilica is not some poison from Harry Potter. According to J & G, it's "a really old cathedral." Fancy, fancy!

Here, Brother and I hold on for fake dear life on a fake innertube being fake floated in by a fake woman. That was fun. This sculpture was one of hundreds (maybe) of art pieces along Canyon Road. Canyon Road is like the art version of... well, let's make it an analogy.

Kelly Walden's Room: Awesome
Canyon Road: Art

More to come, you sweet, sweet darlings.

Post #2 of 2008 is a doozy.

Ok, Brother taught me how to run like an iguana, so now it's out of our system.

After Carlsbad Caverns, we ventured over to the White Sands Monument, nestled snugly in the White Sands Missile Range. No thanks to a few coffee breaks, watching real cowboys buy burritos, and stopping to take unbelievable views (pictures to come), we arrived as the National Monument was closing. Boooo!

Here were the upsides:
1. We were not the victims of friendly fire via missile test.
2. The sunset was possibly the most gorgeous, purpley, Barbara Kingsolveresque sunset either of us have seen. (Us = you and me. I make assumptions about your sunset experiences.)
3. Sand dunes are weird and fascinating. They sprung out of nowhere in the middle of a valley between two mountains. The sand may or may not have originated from goblins. I'm not sure. Let the Google researching begin! But after this post.

Oh, ok, turns out I am done with this post, so the Google researching will begin now.

Edit: Some lake is responsible for the dunes. I don't like that. I will get together with the folks who named the Boston Massacre the "Boston Massacre" (there was no "massacre"! and the British soldiers were justifiably afraid for their lives!) and alter textbooks to better reflect the Dunes' goblin beginnings.

2008 has more cacti.

I am in New Mexico. I am in a wool hat. I am in teresting. Interesting.

Brother and I just returned from an overnight adventure in Southeast New Mexico. Our first stop of note was the Roswell Wal-Mart, where we peed. In the bathroom, I met this tiny green person who said, "Kellllly! Fly away with me to another universe!" I responded, "T. Green, I'm sorry. I am on my way to the Carlsbad Caverns."

(INTERRUPTION: "That was the night with the iguana in the bathroom!" exclaimed Andy. "Yeah! Yeah, in my bathroom! I came out of the shower, grabbed my towel, and there was the iguana! So I jumped on the counter for the second time," said Naomi.)

So, Tiny and I parted ways, and Bro and I got back on the road. We arrived in Carlsbad around 8 PM, reserved an affordable room with black mold (but no cockroaches!), and ate at Chili's. It was not delicious.

I am getting bored and I want to hear more Andy and Naomi stories, so I am changing tone and going to be succinct.

("For every shot we passed, he took it."
"It was the economical thing to do!"
"You could have poured it back."

"Not at that point.")

We explored the Carlsbad Caverns. At one point, I could not see my hand in front of my face. I tried really hard. Whoooa. Stalagtites! Sulfuric acid! Stupendous scenes! Look at this picture, and realize it is a 1,000 times cooler. That is how amazing it is. I will go back.

("She drew the plans in feet, but the construction workers built it in meters! It was three times as big as it was supposed to be!")

Ok, I am enjoying this conversation too dang much. You'll hear about White Sands later. Probably. And remind me to tell you about New Year's Eve, especially the fake bull in the neighbor's backyard. Yeehaw, 2008!

("Do you remember how the iguana moved in Rescuers Down Under? That's how they really ran! Like this!" [Awkward flailing.])