Wednesday, November 24th was favorite Thanksgiving ever.
My parents were at a commercial fishing conference in Seattle the week before and decided they might as well fly to Missoula while they were in the neighborhood. They rented a little house on 5th street where the three of us, plus my best friend/roommate, Maria- stayed. Everything about the four day were perfect.
The house was small and cozy. It had squishy rugs and a fireplace. The beds had way more pillows than a person could ever need. The bathroom was clean. There was even frost on the window panes. Since it was blowing, snowing and negative degrees outside, it was the perfect excuse for knitting, drinking tea, and talking with Maria and my mom for hours (This is what we usually do at home most evenings).
On Tuesday night my mom taught Maria and I how to make an apple pie and dinner for that night. The apple pie turned out to be exceptionally delicious (two people told us so).
We celebrated Thanksgiving on Wednesday because my parents were leaving on Thursday. It started with waking up and going out for a morning run with my dad and Maria up near Mount Jumbo. It was the perfect start to a day with lots of eating ahead.
The meal was yet another thing that set this Thanksgiving apart from all the others. There have been some years where I don't even eat the turkey and I just eat all the rolls and mashed potatoes, but this year I couldn't get enough of it. I ate stuffing, turkey, and even some candied yams! My mom and I spent the rest of the evening making turkey soup with the left overs.
Thursday came and was bittersweet. My parents left, but Maria and I had the campus to ourselves-or so it seemed. We watched the Macy's Parade and the dog show that followed while eating our turkey sandwiches. For the past five days we've been eating turkey soup and left over mashed potatoes.
It was by far the most memorable and delicious Thanksgiving holiday yet.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Victorious
“Flactoid Magnus Delterior 360... That sounds fun.” Victoria sat on the weight machine and did what seemed like a million preparations just to pull on some bars. Strap your feet. Adjust the seat. Crank your neck. Straighten your back. All to work an unheard of muscle deep in between the scapulas.
“Four…five…six.” As she was focused straight ahead and counting her repetitions, Victoria’s eyes settled on the two barbell sets in front of her. “seven…eight…nine.” One was empty and shining. “nine…nine…nine.” It was freshly cleaned. “nine…nine…nine” The second was occupied…by a girl. “Nine… am I really only on nine?” Victoria continued until she finished twenty five Flactoid Magnus Delterior things and sat quietly on the seat, still focused ahead, eyeing the girl doing push presses.
“Mamma told me not to come,” she sighed, still staring at the push presser. “ but I just needed to get out of the basement for once.”
Victoria’s mom encouraged her to stay away from the gym and other fitness centers for a few main reasons: One being that the family didn’t have enough hundred dollar bills to spend every month on Flactoid builders, and two being that she knew her daughter wouldn’t be able to handle the other people, because to Victoria they weren’t people, they were competition. Victoria lifted weights in their basement for a good amount of her spare time. The other good amount of spare time was spent sailing on the lake behind her house in the small, seven foot sailboat she’d saved her lawn mowing money to buy when she was sixteen.
So, there she was being silently challenged by this girl doing countless push presses- wait no, she had finished. Now she was adding plate after plate, loading up the barbell. The girl glanced in the mirror in front of her and caught the reflection of Victoria. The two made awkward mirror eye contact. She gave Victoria a smug “beat this” smile and what looked like a mild flex of her bicep as she scrunched her t-shirt sleeves higher onto her shoulder to expose more finely toned arm and lifted the last plate to put on the barbell.
“I can’t take this anymore.” Thought Victoria, and she strolled on over to the shiny barbell. For effect, she also hiked up her sleeves. She didn’t technically look at the nameless competition to her right, but from her peripheral vision she gathered that the current competition was the overhead lift. She focused on sliding plates onto her own barbell. She loved the heavy, metallic sound they made. Victoria naturally put on much more weight than she’d ever overhead squatted before because this was no day to skimp out on lifting.
“I’ll start with ten and then see how many reps I want to do,” she thought. “One, two…nine, ten.” The girl on the right was still squatting away. “Oh, what the heck,” she thought “eleven, twelve…nineteen, twenty.” Then it happened. The nameless competition met the eyes of Victoria as they both dipped down with the barbell held overhead…and smiled. It sparked just enough disgust in Victoria to get to squat number thirty. “Good thing I had my Breakfast of …Champions this …morning,” thought Victoria. She was breathing so hard that even the voice in her head was having trouble finishing sentences. She bounced a glance off the mirror and saw Nameless’s strong form and calm face. “I’m done for” thought Victoria.
But, at the same moment as this weak thought entered her mind, she heard the inspiring intro to her favorite pumpup song “Eye of the Tiger” come over the radio. Her energy returned as she remembered scenes from Rocky IV where Rocky beats Ivan Drago. She hit forty five overhead squats with who knows how many pounds towering above her.
Nameless’s elbows weakened.
Forty Six squats.
Nameless’s serene face broke into a grimace.
Forty seven squats.
Nameless let out a groan.
Forty eight squats.
Victoria thought about how much she liked Rocky’s sweatshirt in the beginning of Apollo Creed’s match. “I should get myself a half-zip sweatshirt,” she thought.
Forty nine squats.
Nameless’s barbell met the ground.
Fifty squats.
Victoria’s barbell hit the ground. Nameless was sitting on the ground. Victoria silently put her plates away, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door. She never entered a gym again. “Living up to my name is so demanding,” she thought as she walked out the door.
Note: the name Victoria means winner or conqueror.
I read A& P by John Updike and Stillwater. I also read the beginnings of a few others. Both stories were pretty entertaining. I don't know if either of them heavily influenced my writing, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did and I am just unaware of it. My story wasn't really an imitation of any of the stories I read, but they definitely inspired me to be creative.
“Four…five…six.” As she was focused straight ahead and counting her repetitions, Victoria’s eyes settled on the two barbell sets in front of her. “seven…eight…nine.” One was empty and shining. “nine…nine…nine.” It was freshly cleaned. “nine…nine…nine” The second was occupied…by a girl. “Nine… am I really only on nine?” Victoria continued until she finished twenty five Flactoid Magnus Delterior things and sat quietly on the seat, still focused ahead, eyeing the girl doing push presses.
“Mamma told me not to come,” she sighed, still staring at the push presser. “ but I just needed to get out of the basement for once.”
Victoria’s mom encouraged her to stay away from the gym and other fitness centers for a few main reasons: One being that the family didn’t have enough hundred dollar bills to spend every month on Flactoid builders, and two being that she knew her daughter wouldn’t be able to handle the other people, because to Victoria they weren’t people, they were competition. Victoria lifted weights in their basement for a good amount of her spare time. The other good amount of spare time was spent sailing on the lake behind her house in the small, seven foot sailboat she’d saved her lawn mowing money to buy when she was sixteen.
So, there she was being silently challenged by this girl doing countless push presses- wait no, she had finished. Now she was adding plate after plate, loading up the barbell. The girl glanced in the mirror in front of her and caught the reflection of Victoria. The two made awkward mirror eye contact. She gave Victoria a smug “beat this” smile and what looked like a mild flex of her bicep as she scrunched her t-shirt sleeves higher onto her shoulder to expose more finely toned arm and lifted the last plate to put on the barbell.
“I can’t take this anymore.” Thought Victoria, and she strolled on over to the shiny barbell. For effect, she also hiked up her sleeves. She didn’t technically look at the nameless competition to her right, but from her peripheral vision she gathered that the current competition was the overhead lift. She focused on sliding plates onto her own barbell. She loved the heavy, metallic sound they made. Victoria naturally put on much more weight than she’d ever overhead squatted before because this was no day to skimp out on lifting.
“I’ll start with ten and then see how many reps I want to do,” she thought. “One, two…nine, ten.” The girl on the right was still squatting away. “Oh, what the heck,” she thought “eleven, twelve…nineteen, twenty.” Then it happened. The nameless competition met the eyes of Victoria as they both dipped down with the barbell held overhead…and smiled. It sparked just enough disgust in Victoria to get to squat number thirty. “Good thing I had my Breakfast of …Champions this …morning,” thought Victoria. She was breathing so hard that even the voice in her head was having trouble finishing sentences. She bounced a glance off the mirror and saw Nameless’s strong form and calm face. “I’m done for” thought Victoria.
But, at the same moment as this weak thought entered her mind, she heard the inspiring intro to her favorite pumpup song “Eye of the Tiger” come over the radio. Her energy returned as she remembered scenes from Rocky IV where Rocky beats Ivan Drago. She hit forty five overhead squats with who knows how many pounds towering above her.
Nameless’s elbows weakened.
Forty Six squats.
Nameless’s serene face broke into a grimace.
Forty seven squats.
Nameless let out a groan.
Forty eight squats.
Victoria thought about how much she liked Rocky’s sweatshirt in the beginning of Apollo Creed’s match. “I should get myself a half-zip sweatshirt,” she thought.
Forty nine squats.
Nameless’s barbell met the ground.
Fifty squats.
Victoria’s barbell hit the ground. Nameless was sitting on the ground. Victoria silently put her plates away, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door. She never entered a gym again. “Living up to my name is so demanding,” she thought as she walked out the door.
Note: the name Victoria means winner or conqueror.
I read A& P by John Updike and Stillwater. I also read the beginnings of a few others. Both stories were pretty entertaining. I don't know if either of them heavily influenced my writing, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did and I am just unaware of it. My story wasn't really an imitation of any of the stories I read, but they definitely inspired me to be creative.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Cathedral
Raymond Carver uses the metaphor of blindness to say that sight isn't how you see the things that matter. I liked this metaphor and I think it is so true. The husband was skeptical and judgemental of Robert for the majority of the story, yet when his wife fell asleep and he started talking to Robert, he was intrigued. By the end, Robert had the husband describing a cathedral and even drawing one with his eyes closed. The story finishes with the husband being perfectly content to not open his eyes again. This is because he found that he could truly see and feel things when he couldn't see anything at all. I think if we were to close our eyes or just shut out some distractions, we would begin to see the things that really matter.
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