The Daily Universe Editorials: Messages from Heaven

"I wish every BYU student could have heard Jeffry Larson's talk at the Healthy Relationships Conference. I think the University should follow his suggestion to make marriage courses a requirement. All too often, we see freshman girls getting engaged to returned missionaries after few weeks of dating. In any other culture that's sick, but here in Utah it's a wonderful thing. I don't get it.

For a culture that supposedly takes marriage so seriously, I don't think we Mormons take it seriously enough. We're counseled not to delay marriage, but that doesn't mean you should go straight from high school graduation to the temple. Give it time.

As Larson said, 'just because you're in love doesn't mean you should get married,' and 'having fun together doesn't indicate that you will have marriage satisfaction.' It takes way more than two weeks to actually get to know the person you are really dating; it can take months and even years.

I'm all for marriage, but we should give it more time and effort if we really want to treat it as importantly as we say we do. As Larson says, 'Slow the relationship down ... Remember, you're the one who is going to have to live with the other person for a long time.'

Alan Peters
Oak Lawn, Ill."

Undoubtedly, the Daily Universe will receive numerous angry editorials in response to Alan Peters' editorial.

Most likely they will go something like this:

"My name is Kristy Cooke (maiden name Young) and I got married when I was nineteen. My husband and I are now in our third month of marriage and we are just absolutely shining with happiness. In fact, I'm pregnant with quadruplets because we don't believe in birth control!

I just want to tell that mean Alan Peters that he should keep his opinions to himself. He's probably 25 and unmarried and bitter about his prospects for eternal commitment. If he'd like, I can set him up with my seventeen year-old sister, Amy. She's a high school senior and looking for a husband!"

Well, something like that... (Can you see how much I enjoy making fun of the crazy people who submit those strange editorials to the Universe?)

Anyway, three cheers for Alan Peters. I believe that there is a "cult of marriage" at BYU. OK, I'm not bashing marriage and I'm not saying that people shouldn't get married at the Y, but I think some couples jump into the tuxedo and wedding dress way too soon because getting married is "just what people do" after four months of dating.

I think the danger of young brides and grooms is that most of them don't know who they are yet. They haven't had enough time away from home to figure out their dreams, their ambitions, their personal goals. Marriage is a HUGE commitment and only should be made when both parties are mature and ready to give up their selfish desires for the wellbeing of their marriage. And I agree wholeheartedly with the notion that it takes more than love and having fun together to create a solid and successful marriage.

I would like to believe if some couples took more time dating, then the percentage of divorce in the Church would drop. I think I would put some money on that.

Slate is the Best

Slate.com has these hilarious illustrations of President Bush on their website. What a fun job it would be to draw these things!

Oh Nicholas, how I want your life!

Nicholas is a guy who occupies the cubicle right next to mine. Because of our close quarters, I often overhear his phone conversations, and oftentimes these happen to be with his wife. After eavesdropping on such conversations and after chatting with Nick, I have decided that I want his life.

Nick is probably in his early thirties and he is currently a research fellow at the museum where I work. He holds a teaching position at UVA, but he will probably take a post at Berkeley come summertime. His mother is from England and his father is from Australia; he grew up in Australia, (sigh) my dream vacation spot.

Nicholas' wife is an artist, but for her day job she works for the marketing department at Whole Foods. Thus, this newlywed couple gets to eat yummy free Whole Foods all the time!

So...I think I've decided that I don't really want Nicholas' life, but his wife's. Wouldn't it be awesome to be around delicious treats all day? And wouldn't it be perfect to have an intelligent Australian husband who does interesting research all day? (Sigh again.) I'm jealous.

The Wisdom of Anna Quindlen

"Reading has always been life unwrapped to me, a way of understanding the world and understanding myself through both the unknown and the everyday. If being a parent consists often of passing along chunks of ourselves to unwitting--often unwilling--recipients, then books are, for me, one of the simplest and most surefire ways of doing that. I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves."

Oh, Anna Quindlen. She's my new idol because she sums up so perfectly everything I want to say.

I'm reading a collection of her essays called Thinking Out Loud and my favorite one, entitled "Enough Bookshelves," is about Quindlen passing on her love of reading to her three children. The essay begins when her oldest child finishes The Phantom Tollbooth and the excitement both mother and son feel over the accomplishment.

When I think about my own kids (those adorable little munchkins), I often think about introducing them to the books I cherished when I was growing up: Matilda, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, A Wrinkle in Time, Maniac Magee. And even silly books like My Teacher is an Alien and Beetles, Lightly Toasted and Dear God, It's Me Margaret (only for the girls though). I hope my kids love reading so much that they'll pick Harry Potter any day over Sponge Bob Squarepants or, heaven forbid, "That's So Raven."

Isn't it amazing how little children love books? When I was a summer camp counselor at Norwood School, the kids I watched over just adored being read to. All the preschool classrooms were filled with books and we had an entire class dedicated to reading. Even when all the noisy three and four year-olds were gathered together for a combined storytime, there was an incredible hush that silenced their little lips when a teacher opened a book and read, "The night Max wore his wolf suit..."

Over fifty kids, who five minutes earlier were running around and creating chaos, sat spellbound from cover to cover. Even tow-headed Tyler, who made me have a nervous breakdown because he refused to do anything I told him to, would sit quietly for a few minutes if you read him a book.

At what age do we turn away from reading? By middle school, it seems that most kids only read the books assigned to them in English class. No more long trips to the library. No more bedtime stories. No more books for fun. The kids who still like to read are considered nerds or smarty-pants. That's sad, isn't it?

Maybe we just love being read to. Perhaps there is a magical element in the art of storytelling--the soothing voice of the narrator and how she takes us on a journey to Timbuktu, Neverland, or Jupiter even. Perhaps those of us who still love to read have been able to turn this outer-narrator into our own inner-narrator. We become the voice that takes us to far-off places or different places in time. Or perhaps those who have lost this passion have merely forgotten their love of books--a love that just needs a little bit of rekindling.

Why I Love Global Warming

I'm going to say something very selfish...

I love global warming! What's so wrong with mild winters? What's so wrong with taking a leisurely stroll on the Mall on a January afternoon? What's so wrong with leaving my parka, scarf, mittens, and ski mask at home and actually enjoying my commute to work?

The past few weeks in DC have been incredibly warm. Temperatures have reached the mid to high fifties every day. Winter nights feel like autumn afternoons. People are nicer to one another because they're not shoving each other on the streets in a bitter attempt to go indoors. I love warm weather and therefore I love global warming.

Is the Earth destined for doom and destruction if the average temperature is raised a few degrees? I think not. I'm sure the penguins would love to lay out and get a tan down in Antarctica. I'm sure the eskimos are long due for sunnier days. And I'm sure the grisly inhabitants of Siberia would be a lot happier if they didn't have to suffer from minus 20 degree nights, every night of the year.

Aren't we all so much happier when its spring and the long winter is finally over? Yes! We all love spring! Spring is a time for twitterpation and romance. So just imagine if the entire year was an everlasting spring, summer, and autumn. It would be marvelous.

Of course, I'm sure there are terrible biological consequences if global warming continues...but I choose to live in ignorance and just enjoy the nicer effects of this epidemic.

So three cheers for global warming! If I was to run for president, this would be my slogan.

Stay away from me!

Don't come close to me. I am a harbor for germs and viruses. I cough, I sneeze, and I have to blow my nose quite often.

I didn't go to work today, which makes me feel like a slacker because this is only my third week of work. But I just couldn't get out of bed because my head felt so heavy and hot. (Talk about hot face, Jana!) So, my head was hot, but my body was cold. It's a strange feeling.

I want to reiterate that I haven't been sick since my freshman year of high school. I was 14 then. I'm now 23. I almost made the ten-year mark, but this stupid disease had to catch hold of my body. This also reminds me how I went an entire eight years without throwing up. I threw up in seventh grade in my parents' van after we ate Chinese food. I almost puked on my grandma, but luckily my mom moved her in time. The last time I threw up was in May when I was in Mexico on a graduation trip. Alexis, Kristen, and I went on a sailboat to go out to an island that was inhabited by blue-footed boobies. The booby, as many of you know, is my favorite bird. Not only do they have blue feet and funny yellow eyes, they are named after a female body part! Haha!

So I threw up in Mexico---a pink mixture of orange juice, watermelon, and mango. Yum, the acidity felt so good in my throat! And the whole time I was seasick, Alexis and Kristen sipped free pinas and left me to my own devices! Haha...I'm still mad about that one. Just kidding.

Anyway, I have cloistered myself in my bedroom because my roommate has some boys over. I'm catching snippets of their conversation and all the boys like to discuss are Mormon girls and dating. Kind of boring, eh? Why is it that Mormons my age can only talk about dating and how much it sucks? Sometimes, everyone I talk to seems so bitter.

Why can't we talk about politics or literature or even pop culture? These conversations invariably drift to dating---the frustrations of dating, the stress it causes, the bitterness it leaves in our mouths. Whatever. I'm not thinking about marriage or dating, right now. Because, honestly, it's not something I can really control, so why worry about it? Hakuna matata, people!

My one wish is for Mormons in DC to hold a conversation that does not mention dating. None at all. Is this impossible? Perhaps...but these people haven't met Caroline Tung yet! No matter how hard they push, I won't indulge their passion for all things date-y.

My Favorite Poem

This is one of my favorite poems. It's by Sharon Olds.

The Language of the Brag

I have wanted excellence in the knife-throw,
I have wanted to use my exceptionally strong and accurate arms
and my straight posture and quick electric muscles
to achieve something at the center of a crowd,
the blade piercing the bark deep,
the haft slowly and heavily vibrating like the cock.

I have wanted some epic use for my excellent body,
some heroism, some American achievement
beyond the ordinary for my extraordinary self,
magnetic and tensile, I have stood by the sandlot
and watched the boys play.

I have wanted courage, I have thought about fire
and the crossing of waterfalls, I have dragged around

my belly big with cowardice and safety,
my stool black with iron pills,
my huge breasts oozing mucus,
my legs swelling, my hands swelling,
my face swelling and darking, my hair
falling out, my inner sex
stabbed again and again with terrible pain like a knife.
I have lain down.

I have lain down and sweated and shaken
and passed blood and feces and water and
slowly alone in the center of a circle I have
passed the new person out
and they have lifted the new person free of the act
and wiped the new person free of that
language of blood like praise all over the body.

I have done what you wanted to do, Walt Whitman,
Allen Ginsberg, I have done this thing,
I and the other women this exceptional
act with the exceptional heroic body,
this giving birth, this glistening verb,
and I am putting my proud American boast
right here with the others.

Guess the Price

Why are these boots so expensive? Sure, they're Manolo Blahnik's, but $1000 for a pair of shoes?

OK, so they're made out of suede. And they're ultra-sexy. But $1000?

Were they stitched together by Queen Elizabeth II? Or created from the extraordinary hide of a holy heffer? Were they blessed by the Pope?

Why are these shoes so expensive? Tell me!

Miracle!

Well, will you look at that! My blog is fixed! Should I thank the gods? Or perhaps the wonderful technicians at blogger.com? Thank you!

Give it away, Anna

For the past few days I have been working on a post about abortion. Morbid as it sounds, abortion is one of my favorite topics to mull and ponder over because it lies at the crossroads of so many issues---church and state, federal power and state power, the right to life and the right to agency, the life of the mother and the life of the child.

But never black and white. The polarization of our country in recent decades may try to divide Americans into two opposing camps, that of pro-life and pro-choice. But the truth is, abortion deals with the gray. No one feels comfortable about aborting a fetus with a beating heart---and no one wants women to use coat hangers or cleaning liquids to flush out an unwanted pregnancy. This is a topic that is neither right nor wrong and thus it has become one of the two most social controversial issues facing Americans today (the other being gay marriage).

And so, I've written and rewritten this post about abortion, but today I found an excellent article by Anna Quindlen that sums up exactly what I want to say. Quindlen is the best at what she does and she eloquently articulates her thoughts on abortion and the necessity to have an open forum of discussion between pro-lifers and pro-choicers.

Musings on Space

To prove that I am not a total loser (i.e., a lump of flesh attached to Jack Bauer and addicted to hot chocolate), I will explore the necessity of NASA and the Jet Propulsions Laboratory (JPL) in this entry.

Today there was a staff screening of a new film that will play in the museum's IMAX theater. The movie narrates the story of the two Martian rovers from their construction on Earth to their mission on the fourth planet. The two rovers, named Spirit and Opportunity, were built to explore the Martian terrain and to discover evidence of water on Mars. Thus far, Spirit and Opportunity have proven that there was indeed water on the surface of Mars billions of years ago. Further investigation is required, but this finding brings up again the possibility of life beyond Earth. Very interesting...

But is this useful information?

I'm not an expert on Martian geology or any type of geography for that matter (I got a C in geography while at BYU. A grade that has consequently lowered my GPA by 0.5 points. Boo.), but I wonder if it is really necessary to trace the existence of water on Mars. Sure, this is interesting stuff, but how does it help us today? NASA and JPL gobble up millions of dollars every year, dollars that could potentially go towards bettering education or building homes for Katrina victims. Thus, is the government spending our money wisely when it invests in scientific endeavors that may not readily alleviate more pressing problems within the U.S.?

This is a tricky subject.

I am an advocate of space exploration because, come on, I work at a space museum! I have always been fascinated by astronomy, by the endless realm of space beyond our planet. The study of astronomy may not find a cure for cancer or help the homeless, but it does feed the human desire of exploration and curiosity. As a kid, learning about space opened a window in my mind and in my imagination. There was so much to learn beyond Earth; there was so much more out there.

But my practical sense wonders if there are more pressing matters here on Earth that may benefit from the money we give to NASA. So...what to do, what to do?

Despite these practical thoughts, I believe the U.S. government should fund scientific and art-related programs. There is a need for both these things, even if they may not satisfy immediate problems like hunger or housing. There is simply a need to gain more knowledge---and if we have the capability to explore new ideas, and in this case new worlds, then we should. Knowledge does not feed mouths or shelter the homeless, but the pursuit of it does lead to the progression of humankind.

I think about the great scientific discoveries of the past, like decoding the structure of DNA or finding out the make-up of a cell. Such discoveries have led to great advances in medicine and technology and so I wonder what advances will be generated by exploring the universe.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. On a closing and random note, I am getting sick. My throat is scratchy and I have a fever. This is shocking because I can't remember the last time I was sick. My white blood cells are like tanks! What's happening to my body?

It begins...

And so it begins... I have officially become a "24" addict.

Prescribe me some pills, Doctor! Or give me another dose of Jack Bauer.

Oh, "24", how I love you. I watched six shows last night. Six. That's about four and a half hours of my life that I have dedicated to Jack, President Palmer, Michelle, Tony, George, Kim, and that crazy wilderness man Lonny. I even cried last night when Jack said goodbye to his daughter Kim. I had to get up, go to the bathroom, and wipe the tears from my face.

And tonight I will watch three more episodes---that's my quota for the day. I'm also feeling under the weather so I figure I deserve to curl up in bed and watch my new fave show.

I've watched so much "24" in the past twenty-four hours that my mind is having a hard time distinguishing between Jack Bauer reality and real reality. Last night, I dreamt that Armageddon had arrived. Not Ben Affleck, but the true end of the world. There were cyclones and earthquakes in DC! One of the characters in my dream remarked, "This is like the Book of Revelation!" I woke up deeply disturbed and afraid.

The influence of "24" is also displayed when I am awake. On my way to work, my Metro line passes by the Pentagon station and so the train I ride is often filled with military personnel dressed in camouflage uniforms. I just looked at one of the soldiers today and thought, "He could be saving the world today. For all I know, there might be a nuclear bomb set to go off in DC and have I absolutely no idea."

Hmmmm...this is getting out of hand! But I can't stop now. I only have six more episodes to go in Season 2.

Read this speech

I like Hillary Clinton. She's intelligent and capable. Sure, she married a scoundrel, but her marriage is her business.

The press paints a picture of Hillary as a radical left-wing demon who is an ultra-feminist and an uber-witch. But she's actually a moderate democrat who represents a politically-mixed state. She's also a lifelong Methodist. We tend to think New York is a very liberal place, but the truth is that NYC may be liberal, but the rest of the state is much more conservative. (Think Buffalo.)

When Hillary first came into office, 1 out of 3 New Yorkers had negative feelings about her. Today, that ratio has decreased to 1 out of 5.

So give Hillary a chance! I think it would be amazing if we had a woman assume the presidency in 2008. Allison and I discussed the possiblity of an election between Hillary Clinton and Condoleeza Rice. Wouldn't that be cool? Let's inject some estrogen into the presidency!

If you have time, read this speech given by Hillary at an event that celebrated the 32nd anniversary of Roe v. Wade. It brings up some interesting points about abortion. In this speech, Hillary also advocates teen abstinance program. Very interesting, eh?

Anna Quindlen also wrote a commentary about the former First Lady. Read that here.

To Rule the World

"I am one of the millions of people in the world that feels my existence is less insignificant through my vain attempts at explaining the bizarre and mundane happenings in the world around me. Yay me."

My friend Allison wrote that in her new blog. I feel the same way about mine. Why do I feel that people care about my high heel adventures or my musings about art? Am I being pretentious? Do I place too much pride in my opinions? Or maybe I just like having feedback on the random thoughts and events that occur in my life. Hmmm...

My true intentions for writing a blog are much more scheming and dark.

Ready?

I plan to RULE THE WORLD. If you have ever read Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, you will remember how Valentine and Peter takeover the planet by starting their own little blogs under the code names of Locke and Demosthenes. (All right, Card wrote the book long before blogs were invented, or even the internet for that matter, but Val and Pete did rise into positions of awesome power through blog-like means.)

And this is my evil plan... "Adventures in Space" will become a must-read for all Americans and Canadians! And then my online ramblings will carefully spread to Western Europe, then Asia, and then finally, Madagascar. I will spread like the bubonic plague, creeping in dark alleys and sneaking up on my victims. Gradually, every human being with access to a computer will read my blog. I will spread my libertarian ideas to the masses!

But now, I will go to sleep. My awesome plans for worldwide domination will have to wait until the morning. Come, Pinky, it is time for bed.

Pinky says: "Yes, Brain."

(If you don't get the last sentence, you need to watch more "Animaniacs.")

***Disclaimer: I'm writing this entry at 1:30 in the morning. Most likely it is full of mumbo-jumbo jibber-jabber.***

A Little Thing called "24"

I've heard the TV show "24" is addicting. But I have resisted.

Then I read Lindsey's blog about how great it is, and the temptation grew.

And then I went home for the weekend and was a little bored and we just so happen to have seasons 1-3 on DVD. And so I watched...

and watched...

and watched for six straight shows.

It is what the Chinese say, "Bong Shi Le." All right, I kind of made that up, but roughly translated it means "it's so good, it's the best to death."

Chinese is a weird language. You put "shi le" or "to death" at the end of an adjective and it multiplies the meaning of the adjective by 100. For instance, you can say "pang shi le" or "fat to death," which means that someone is so incredibly fat that they are fat-to-death. My favorite is "chou shi le." Translation: "ugly to death," or "Your mama is so fugly that I took one look and died."

Back to "24" though... For some reason I started watching season 2 before season 1. I'm weird like that, yo. I'm so excited though to watch the first three seasons! I don't have to wait each week for a new episode; I can watch them all in one sitting.

So I guess this is my new life: space by day and "24" by night.

High Heel Adventures, Part II

I didn't think it could be possible, but I own a pair of shoes that are even more painful than my beloved BCBGirls.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. There are pink blisters on my feet and my toes have become squished mushes of flesh. I feel like I'm channeling the feet of my Chinese ancestors who had to bind their "delicate lillies" until their feet closed like a fist.

I have gotten a lot of compliments on these shoes though. They're light tan and laced with a mauve ribbon. They're pointy and have a 3.5 inch stiletto heel. They're also from Charlotte Russe---and my friend Amanda attributes this to their ouch-factor. But I wonder, are expensive stilettos more comfortable than cheap ones? Is it possible to wear high heels that don't maim your feet after walking down three city blocks? Maybe I just can't afford the comfy stiletto heel. Or maybe I just can't walk.

My inability to place one foot in front of the other was demonstrated today during my lunch break. Amanda and I were walking to H&M and in the middle of the street, I tripped on my pants and completely stepped out of my shoe. When I tried to pick up my heel, I tripped on my pants again and nearly fell over. I think I must have looked drunk or handicapped or Eastern European; either way, I looked like a buffoon.

But yet again, will such embarassments cause me to swear off high heels? No way! I saw people on the Metro checking out my shoes---men and women. The security guard on the NASM elevator said I looked very nice today. And my pants are just too long to wear any other kind of shoe!

There are so many reasons why I shouldn't wear high heels. They hurt my feet. They maim my toes. They make me trip and fall.

Yet there is one powerful reason to keep doing it---they're damn sexy and I love them.

Blog Frustrations

I'm really frustrated because my blog is misbehaving!

My entries are posted halfway down the page and so you have to scroll down to read them. I don't know how to fix this. I emailed the Blog Help people, but they must be away on business. Or ignoring me. Or laughing at me.

I also can't seem to be able to list links on my page.

I worked as a damn web intern one summer! Didn't I learn any useful web skills???

I think I need to rethink my career and become a web developer. They seem to make a lot of money--and I'd be able to fix my blog.

The Randy Life of E.L. Doctorow

Currently, my Metro reading is Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow. It is a book I read in high school, but I don't remember it very well so I decided to give it another go.

Doctorow is a true storyteller. Ragtime is a mixture of historical fact and fiction and the author entwines the two like a Navajo weaver. You almost believe that Tateh and the Little Girl really interacted with historical figures like Evelyn Nesbit and Emma Goldman. You almost buy into the story that Father traveled to the North Pole with Matthew Peary. Almost, but not quite, because real people don't have names like "The Little Girl" or "Father."

The book also mentions sex a lot. It's not graphic; Doctorow merely tells a story and thus mentions the sexy bits just as well as he describes the weather and the Little Boy's blonde hair. Sex definitely seems to be a regular theme in the book, which has made me wonder why Doctorow has chosen to focus on it so much.

My initial conclusion is that Doctorow wants to comment on the Victorian sexuality that was was in abundance when Ragtime takes place. Gentlewomen were expected to be the epitome of virtue and chastity. When they participated in sexual acts after marriage, they were expected to lay quietly and think of gardens while their husbands committed the dirty deed.

Perhaps Doctorow is saying that this Victorian ideal was a sham. Sex is meant to be enjoyed and there were plenty of people in the 1910s--many who were women--that enjoyed it very much, like Evelyn Nesbit. American society may have projected this ideal on its citizens, but it remained merely an ideal.

Of course, however, there were men and women who bought into this Virgin Queen perspective. Mother, for example, is the model Victorian woman who does indeed lay there quietly when Father makes love to her. What is Doctorow saying about Mother? Well, I'm not sure yet because I'm only halfway through the novel.

Have any of you read the book? I'm not very good at dissecting literature because I often read books for the storylines instead of digesting the subject matter. Maybe Ragtime doesn't even mention sex as much as I think it does. Who knows? I'm not proclaiming to be an English professor or anything like that.

All in all, it is a good read and it makes the Metro ride go a lot faster.

This quote from the book made me think. It comes from a part in the book when Father is living in the frigid reaches of the Arctic, waiting for the right time to venture to the North Pole.

"Father kept himself under control by writing in his journal. This was a system too, the system of language and conceptualization. It proposed that human beings, by the act of making witness, warranted times and places for their existence other than the time and place they were living through." (Emphasis added.)

I haven't fully been able to figure out what Doctorow is saying in the last sentence! But it definitely has been food for thought.

After Kissing...Cherries are My Weakness

I suddenly realize why Cassandra wanted to marry Brian Cherry. Cherry is the best last name because cherries are the best fruit ever!

On my travels to Costco on Monday, I bought a pound of cherries. Eleven bucks. Expensive, I know, but well worth it. Cherries are my favorite fruit; in fact, they're my family's favorite fruit. The Tung's can have a bushel of cherries for dinner. When my mom buys cherries at the grocery store, they are guaranteed to be gone by morning. My sister, brother, and I will sit around the box of cherries and fight for the meatiest ones. In our household, food fights are a common occurrence. It's just that we don't throw the food at one another, but try to grab it from one another's hands to satisfy the hunger in our half-full bellies. It's a dog-eat-dog world in the Tung household. That's why my sister's so scrawny--she can't get enough food because my brother and I are bigger than her.

Anyway, I love cherries. Just two days after I bought my pound of cherries, they are almost gone. Do you think it's possible for me to have an overdoes of cherries? If I eat too much of them, will they wreak havoc on my body? Like turn my pee a weird color?

I challenge anyone to a cherry-eating contest. When it comes to food-eating contests, I am 0-1, but I am confident in my cherry-eating abilities. I really think I could win!

The National Gallery of Art

I ate my lunch at my desk today (I know, how sad) so I spent an hour at the National Gallery of Art. They've put up a few new exhibitions since I was last in town and so I decided to have a look.

The National Gallery is unlike the other museums on the Mall. I love the peace, the soft quiet that surrounds me when I enter the main doors. The NGA is a sanctuary from the museum I work at, which is filled with loud schoolchildren, flashy cameras, and unfashionable mid-Westerners who like to touch the airplanes (that's a no-no).

At the center of the NGA's atrium is a circular fountain with a statue of Hermes adorning the top. He points skyward, leading your eyes up towards the brilliant marble dome overhead. Currently, the fountain is surrounded by beautiful fresh flowers--yellow daffodils, tulips, mums, and my favorite, hydrangeas. The flowers give off a clean and light scent, sweeping away any thoughts of winter and snow.

One of the newest exhibitions is a collection of bird etchings by John James Audobon. A collection of pictures of birds doesn't sound like the most fascinating exhibit, but I went anyways because I've always been an animal lover--and I do like birds. The etchings themselves were finely executed. All of the birds were depicted in life-size proportions so I got a sense of how big these animals actually are. My favorite was the pelican, whose flesh Audubon described as "rank, fleshy, and nauseous...unfit for eating." Mmmm, fresh pelican. I'm sure nothing beats that taste.

The Audubon exhibit is adjacent to the sculpture galleries so I decided to take a stroll through them. I've been through these rooms many times, but I stumbled upon something new during this visit. I must have winded myself along a new path because I found myself in a Versailles-looking chamber, full of gilded paintings and delicate vases. I felt like I was right back in Paris.

On my way out I also caught a glimpse of three Vermeer paintings, which is quite an acquisitioning feat for the NGA. How many Vermeers' are there in the world? Something like forty? And to think, there are three of them right in a row, right here in Washington, D.C.

I came to appreciate sculpture during my study abroad in London. Before then, I thought sculpture was boring--just a bunch of static marble statues in fixed poses. But in London, my professor Dr. Marshall taught us to appreciate the 3D quality of sculpture, of how it changes when you walk around it or view it from different angles. I became obsessed with Bernini, whose Apollo and Daphne and The Rape of Persephone are about the most breathaking pieces of sculpture--of art-- that I have ever seen. Anyway, I bring up Bernini because they have a bust of his in the National Gallery. It's not an Apollo and Daphne by any means, but the bust exhibits the intricate detail that Bernini is so well-known for.

I thought a lot about my London semester abroad when I walked around the National Gallery. Now wasn't that the life? I spent my days visiting museums, shopping at trendy stores, and watching plays and musicals. If only that could last forever... But, at least I have a job where I can have a little taste of that everyday.

My Babies...

These are my ouch shoes. Imagine them in black with white stitching. OUCH.

The photograph makes the heel look shorter than it really is. Four inches, baby! I'm walking on my toes.

(And OK, they don't have the "I can kill people with my pointy shoes" stiletto heel, but whatever, close enough. Still painful.)

High Heels and Hot Chocolate

The world is a bigger place when you wear high heels. This is not necessarily because you feel empowered by wearing sexy stilettos, but because your feet hurt like hell. Distances seem longer, staircases are endless, and uneven sidewalks become treacherous territory.

Today, I'm wearing my new BCBGirls black & white pumps. They are adorable and only cost $30 at a sale at Hecht's. (I saved sixty dollars!) My new shoes make me look and feel cute, but they come at a high price.

I don't know whether to embrace or smack the inventor of high heels. Undoubtedly, he must have been a man with an awe-inspiring sense of fashion, but also with a streak of sadism. Did he enjoy the whimpers of rail-thin models as they tramped down the runway in four-inch stilettos? Or did he merely whisper in a French accent, "I am a genius! This shoe will change de world!"

And indeed it has. The stiletto is both delicate and sexy, feminine and powerful. It's something you can't live without, but then again it's something you can't wear everyday--unless you want your feet to whither away like a dead leaf.

And although my feet hurt and although I've decided to hold in my pee rather than walk thirty paces to the bathroom, I will undoubtedly wear my BCBG's over and over again.

On another note, it is raining outside today and I am sans umbrella. I forgot to bring one to my new apartment and so I'm using my coat as a make-shift poncho. I don't mind the rain though because I'm inside and sipping hot chocolate. This is my morning ritual--get to work, check email, make hot chocolate. It is sweet, creamy, and warms my belly. Delicious!

Wanted: Friends for Caroline

Now that I have moved back to DC, it is time to make some new friends. Of course, my old friends who are still here are awesome and the coolest (ie Amanda), but I would like to expand my circle. (A circle that as of now consists of me, Amanda, my sister, and a few roomies.)

I like friends who:
1.) like to talk about politics, religion, literature, and art.
2.) like to discuss controversial topics like abortion, affirmative action, gun control, and Toby Keith.
3.) like to go out to eat.
4.) think I'm funny. (Hehe.)
5.) ask me how my day was.
6.) lean to the left.
7.) like to travel and who want to pay for my airfare to New Zealand.
8.) are open-minded. (Allison is a great example of this.)
9.) have cute guy friends who are not sweet dudes.
10.) accept my weirdness. In fact, they embrace it.

These people need not apply:
1.) People who can only talk about dating and marriage.
2.) People who are narrow-minded ninnies and think they're right about everything.
3.) People who take up all the conversation and drone on and on about their life, their views, their opinions.
4.) People who like Toby Keith.
5.) Canadians.

All right, Janice, you can still be my friend even if you live in Alberta. :o)

Well, that is all I have to say. I think this is my fifth post for the day and that is far too many entries! But I do love writing and I do love blogs. And most likely nobody is reading this, so I'm basically just talking to myself! Which may be a sign of schizophrenia, but oh well, I like schizophrenics. They're my favorite kind of peeps.

Adventures in...Costco

I can already tell I'm going to be a blogaphobe. Heaven help me.

Anyway, I went to Costco yesterday to buy food for my empty kitchen. It's just across the street from my apartment and the closest grocery store I could find. I went by myself too, which is an oddity at Costco where entire families and clans can be found together searching the aisles for a shank of ham or large cans of Crisco.

I liken my Costco experience to Disney's "Jack and the Beanstalk," where Mickey, Goofy, and Donald Duck feast upon the giant's gigantic dinner. Do you guys remember that movie? It was one of my favorites as a kid because I love food. The concept of jumping on top of green jello and eating peas the size of basketballs sounds awesome. I'm always hungry and there never seems to be enough food to quench my enormous appetite. But in Costco, perhaps my appetite can be quenched. Unbelievable.

Just imagine...piles and piles of lunch meat, thousands of spinach nuggets in white plastic bags, aisles of fruit danish, crates piled on top of crates of Chilean cherries, and three-pound containers of cream cheese. Mmmm, cream cheese, the perfect condominent. It can be eaten with salty things and sweet things, or just out of the tub.

I couldn't help wonder though---who needs all this food?

Caterers? No doubt. Orphanages? Yes, please. Polygamist families? Most definitely. But the average American household?

I bet if we emptied all of the Costcos in America, we could feed the entire population of Ethiopia. We have such an abundance of food in the U.S., yet people are starving everyday. It's so ironic.

Anyway, I'm happy to have a Costco so nearby, but I wonder how often I will go. I can't just stop in to pick up a toothbrush or some contact solution---unless I want a dozen toothbrushes or a gallon of contact solution. Thus, Costco is truly not for the young and single.

On a closing note, I think the plural of toothbrush should be teethbrush. Eh, eh?

On Second Thought...

Hmmm...I'm a little wary about posting my employment sagas over the web. Seems like I could get fired over this if I say anything controversial.

So, I'll stick to my personal life and perhaps sprinkle in a few details about my job. Everything will be in secret code form, of course.

Moving Out, Moving In

I am officially an independent woman! Yesterday, I moved out of my parent's place and into my new apartment in Crystal City, Virginia. Doesn't Crystal City sound like a magical place in the Wizard of Oz or the Chronicles of Narnia?

I'm paying about $600 a month, which makes me sad, but now I live with three fun roommates, which makes me happy. I figure, if money becomes an issue, I can always move out after a few months. I probably will only stay until the end of June or July anyway because I want to get ready for grad school in the fall.

Speaking of grad school, I am applying to two universities in London--King's College London and the London School of Economics and Political Science. I don't know if I have a first choice yet... The King's College faculty seems very nice and I really like their American Studies programme. (I know, I know. Why study American Studies in the UK? That's another blog entry...) But LSE also has a great programme (an MA in the History of International Relations) and I think it would help me broaden my historical perspective. Additionally, LSE is probably one of the best schools in the world--perhaps in the top ten or top twenty--and that would look good on my CV when I apply to PhD programmes.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. I haven't gotten into any of these programmes!

Anyway, back to my new apartment. If you want to look at pictures, go to this website: http://www.archstoneapartments.com/Apartments/Virginia/ArlingtonCrystal+City/Lofts+590/PhotoGallery.htm?cid=216

I plan on painting the walls soon, so please give me any advice if you've painted before. Should I use a primer? Should I paint the ceiling? (That's what I learned in a magazine.) Right now, my place looks like a college apartment, so I'm excited to update it and make it look trendy and awesome. Which is hard, because my decorating repertoire is basically empty.

My Very First Entry

How exciting! My new blog. I figure I will have a lot of free time at work so I will be adding new entries in here all the time.

Does my blog look space-y? I thought the navy blue and circles harkened to astronomy. Kind of. And this Verdana font looks futuristic.

I'll probably spend a lot of time discussing topics that aren't related to my job or to space. I may work in Space History, but I won't let it consume my life!