Tired of ads? Upgrade to paid account and never see ads again!
04 February 2009 @ 03:14 pm
Happy day-late birthday, El Jay! You are six years old today <3
12 April 2008 @ 08:12 pm
Guys, Edith Wharton's house is facing foreclosure proceedings. I know you're all poor like me, but even a few bucks will help. Please, please, please help save this beautiful landmark. It'll be an important victory for historians and literature buffs everywhere.

Go here to donate: www.edithwharton.org

Current Mood: concerned
01 January 2007 @ 04:15 pm
    Francie grabbed her mother and Neeley. "All together now," she ordered. The three of them leaned out the window and shouted;
    "Happy New Year everybody!"
    An instant of silence, then out of the dark a thick Irish brogue shouted, "Happy New Year, youse Nolans!"
    "Now who could that be?" puzzled Katie.
    "Happy New Year, you dirty Irish mick!" Neeley screamed back.
    Mama clapped her hand over his mouth and pulled him away while Francie slammed the window down. All three of them were laughing hysterically.
    "Now you did it!" gasped Francie, laughing so hard that she cried.
    "He knows who we are and he'll come around here and fi... fi... fight," gurgled Katie so weak from laughing that she had to hold on to the table. "Who... who... was it?"
    "Old man O'Brien. Last week he cursed me out of his yard, the dirty Irish..."
    "Hush!" said Mama. "You know that whatever you do when the new year starts, you'll do all year."
    "And you don't want to go around saying, dirty-Irish mick like a busted record, do you?" asked Francie.
04 October 2006 @ 12:31 am
For those of you just tuning in, I tend to keep this thing locked down pretty tightly. If you want in, knock three times on the doorpost and whisper the password to the statue of Athena - or, you know, just request that I add you as a friend or something.
11 September 2006 @ 12:06 am
"Poetry is meant to be spoken or sung. We do violence when read it silently." -my Spanish 120A course reader

27 February 2006 @ 11:38 pm
Dear LJ hooligans,
Some of you may have noticed a couple things changing around here. Number one is that, yes, I'm going back to friends-only. It's mostly due to the fact that I've grown increasingly concerned in recent months about who's reading my journal and I'd like to have a bit more control over that readership. Also, let's face it, the world doesn't need to know all my personal business.

ethnichybrid suggested, however, that I keep "the pretties" public, so after going through and making this thing secure, I'll read back through them and find what I think is worth sharing. I suppose she's right - I shouldn't hide EVERYTHING about myself.

That's it, really. I'll post a somewhat more attractive friends-only banner once I've got the spare time, but until then... knock yourselves out kiddos, and if you want to read my boring stuff, add me to your friends list. If you don't have an LJ, what the hell are you waiting for? Make one already!

17 January 2006 @ 01:22 pm

So the Bruin Democrats are co-sponsoring a human trafficking event here on campus tomorrow at 6:30 pm in Royce 362. We have some amazing speakers (including a survivor of human trafficking within the United States) and it should be a really special evening. It's only an hour and a half of your time. Please, please, please come. PLEASE.
12 October 2005 @ 01:06 pm
"...This is the island where dreams come true."

"That's the island I've been looking for this long time," said one of the sailors. "I reckoned I'd find I was married to Nancy if we landed here."

"And I'd find Tom alive again," said another.

"Fools!" said the man, stamping his foot with rage. "That is the sort of talk that brought me here, and I'd better have been drowned or never born. Do you hear what I say? This is where dreams - dreams, do you understand - come to life, come real. Not daydreams: dreams."

There was about half a minute's silence and then, with a great clatter of armour the whole crew were tumbling down the main hatch as quick as they could and flinging themselves on the oars to row as they had never rowed before; and Drinian was swinging round the tiller, and the boatswain was giving out the quickest stroke that had ever been heard at sea. For it had taken everyone just that half-minute to remember certain dreams they had had - dreams that make you afraid of going to sleep again - and to realise what it would mean to land on a country where dreams come true.

On a somewhat related note: Vheissu has officially rocked my world.
Current Mood: pensive
11 June 2005 @ 01:39 am
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Current Mood: so in love
Current Music: I want one!
27 March 2005 @ 09:49 am
"Too much and too long, we seem to have surrendered community excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our gross national product ... if we should judge America by that - counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for those who break them. It counts the destruction of our redwoods and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm and the cost of a nuclear warhead, and armored cars for police who fight riots in our streets. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children.

"Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages; the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage; neither our wisdom nor our learning; neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it tells us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans."

Address, University of Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas, March 18, 1968

Hey Carney kids, sound familiar? This is the fullest text of the Kennedy speech I could find (after over an hour of Googling, no less), and yet I want our entire passage. So, to those of you who delivered it as an eighth grader and still have it memorized; to those of you who may have a copy of it tucked in your old five-section notebook; to those of you who know somebody that might, please please please help me get my hands on it. I've managed to find the Faulkner speech, but Kennedy is being elusive and I've desperately needed to quote it on more than one occasion in recent months. HELP!
Current Mood: sad that I can't find it! =*(
Current Music: Suzi's watching cartoons