Saturday, June 21, 2003

Glowing blue book... yay... spent all day reading it. Will resist... temptation... to shoot spoilers... actually, will say that too many sentences end in ellipses... but nevertheless, the best HP novel since Prisoner of Azkaban. (Andrea shuts up now, before anything else escapes her rebellious fingers.)

Meteorologists who need any excuse to throw a party, Andrea.

If I'm not around in the next week.. I think you can all figure out why. Between work, HP5, and the wedding, I'm gonna be busy. *Glances lovingly at the glowing blue book*

BTW: I look killer in my bridesmaid dress. The alterations that cost more than the dress itself may have something to do with it. Thankyou, Sophia. :)

Friday, June 20, 2003

Now, here's an anniversary I don't see how we could possibly forget to celebrate:


Seriously, who thinks these things up?

Thursday, June 19, 2003

Hello, all.
I haven't done very much lately besides transcribing Latin and waiting for HP5 to show up on my doorstep. Therefore I have very little to say, except that if you can't tell "f" from "x" in a script it's a bad sign.

Meanwhile, will the sun ever emerge over the northeastern US again? I don't have statistics for how many rainy, foggy or partly cloudy days we've experienced since March, but rumor has it that some people are experiencing Seasonal Affective Disorder - in late spring! - due to the lack of sunlight.

Two more class days, next Monday and next Wednesday, and then I will never attend another class for my MA degree..

This does not, of course, preclude my attending courses for the PhD in fall.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Dear Nuns,

I have posted something for you which is not published......

And now to things more fit for the public eye. Or is it ? One of the defining features of us nuns, is our protracted singleness. Hence the name. Hence Sister Iris' blog. Among other things. No, I am not fishing for dates.Thank you.

My CD walkman has crashed on me today. This is nothing short of a catastrophe for this music junkie. hence i cna't listen to my ear throbbing rock music on the Tube and the busses, but must endure the sounds of the Underground, London traffic and people, people, people....everywhere. I am a music junkie, but part of the reason I listen to music even just walking down the road is because it does, to som extent, drown out the noise of the crowded streets and pavements, the newspaper sellers, people having intimate phone conversations on their mobiles, beggars and those annoying charity workers that stand on every street corner and hassle you to subscribe to giving £5 every month to their charity. Without it to even just dim the sounds of the city, it hits you full in the face, surrounds you like a swirling mass of clouds, jerks you back and forth. In the city, a walkman is a life saver - it cuts you off from the world so that you don't have to deal with so many obstacles and impressions at once.

I can't afford a new disc man. In fact, this is a particularly nice one my x gave me for Valentines. Symbolic it should stop working just as our relationship falls apart. Sweet music no more.....

I am still not fishing for dates.......

Sister Scarlett

Monday, June 16, 2003

Welllll... school's out for the summer, and I'm beginning to put together a new collection of songs for a good Interfaith Nunnery Summer CD. Ladies, place your ideas on the board; My first addition is The Atari's cover of an old favorite, "Boys of Summer" by Don Henley, with slightly altered lyrics.

Sunday, June 15, 2003

Back now from a few rejuvenating days in the mountains, with my traveling companion, the honorary nun Erica. The weather didn't really cooperate, so we only managed a few hours worth of hiking per day, but we did meet interesting people like the Ukrainian-American artist Andrei Protsouk. Protsouk's art explores the sensuality of women and the sensuality of food, sometimes both at once. Consider "Undine", a half-clothed woman with the tail of a shrimp, or "Pear-Lady"a fertile-appearing figure with pears nestled in her braid and another in her hand. The style is vibrantly colored, a neo-Cubist landscape of curves and lines resembling a sharp-edged Chagall with a love for treif. In person, the artist is friendly, talkative, with a charming accent. Of course, we two impoverished twentysomethings couldn't really buy any of the art, but we bought notecards which Protsouk signed for us. Lovely.

It's a squooshy! I have a squooshy! And it will be my squooshy, and I shall call it Squooshy...

[If I have misquoted, forgive me and know that I've been misquoting all week.]

I don't know that I've ever enjoyed a movie so much as Finding Nemo. Erica and I were squeaking, "That's so CUTE!" at each other every five minutes or so. Those readers who know me know that squealing in precious little voices is something that I prefer not to do, but, shall we say, Nemo broke down my inhibitions.

Vacation over, back to the Latin manuscript transcriptions... I showed a friend the manuscript I'm trying to read, and asked him what punishment was worthy of a scribe who wrote so illegibly. He thought for a few moments, and then said, "The scribe should be doomed to transcribe hundreds of pages of philosophy. From a Wingding font."