Blasted town living. After a thoroughly fruitless and frustrating search for a place to practice archery on our own property (“This is totally far enough! There’s no way I could hit the neighbors’ kids!” “Stephanie, you cannot shoot at the neighbors’ house.” “Darn.”), I got permission to shoot on top of this dam that’s just down the road. Theoretically, this is a brilliant plan, as it’s somewhat hidden from the road, relatively unused, wide enough to drive a truck on, with no pinestraw or any other way to lose arrows (though I’m usually pretty creative about that). The only problem is that so far several neighbors have seen me hauling my target to and from my nice new archery spot. Stephanie: “Hey! How are you?” Elderly neighbor 1 with spaniel: *stony silence* A few moments later. Stephanie: “Hey!” Elderly neighbor 2 with pug: *stony silence* The next day. Stephanie: “Hi! How are you today?” Elderly neighbor 3 (2?) with a pug: *stony silence* They all look at me like I’m eating raw kittens with barbecue sauce. I suppose it doesn’t help that when they saw me I was missing pretty badly. But I haven’t had a chance to shoot a bow since last spring! I’m getting better already, and I won’t hit your pug, honest!

Pretty much all of the neighbors are retirees, and it’s a VERY quiet neighborhood. I think they all think our family is really, really weird. We’re tearing apart our bathroom right now, and late at night (which is 9pm, around here) you can hear Dad hacking at the walls with a hatchet. I’m not sure that they believe us when we say we’re remodeling. There are have been some rather odd sounds coming from this house for the past 6 months, but is that any reason to think we’re a pack of murderers? *pushes that disembodied limb back under the bushes* Just landscaping, we are.

I’m really enjoying my Honors senior thesis research, but it’s also becoming a little bit scary. I’ve read 45 books for this thing already. I still have three more books coming on interlibrary loan before I tackle the online journals and finish up gathering quotes and information from my primary sources. And I foolishly told Dr. Vaughan that I’d have a rough draft of the 20-50 page paper done over break, of which I have three weeks left, and during which I’m supposed to be working at the country club, reading several massive novels for another class, and sending out my resume to find some sort of career-type-thing for after college. I need to wrap this thing up! It’s eating my life and spitting out the chomped up little bone fragments! Break is lovely, but it’s not half long enough, and I’m not getting half enough done.

I’ve been having extremely vivid dreams again lately, mainly involving dogs. I think maybe I’m in withdrawal. I dreamed that I picked up a black poodle mix puppy, and it felt so real with its curly black fur, and it was kind of squirmy how puppies are, and I was going to bring it home to Mom and then I woke up. Then I had another dream that I was volunteering at the elementary school (shudder) and someone brought in an Akita puppy. It fell asleep on my lap and its fur was just like Gidget’s when she was that age. She would sleep so deeply that it was hard to wake her up. Yanni always put her out like a light, no matter how wound up she was, which is, I guess, what Yanni’s there for. Of course, then I had a dream where the central problem was my lack of boots. My beloved boots are currently in a state of advanced dilapidation and are rapidly reaching the point of unwearability, so this has been weighing heavily on my mind. I love those boots, we’ve climbed trees and mountains together! We’ve waded creeks together! We have walked the streets of cities in several states together! Anyway, in the dream, it was some sort of apocalyptic thing in which we were being bombed, and there were terrible shortages and whatnot, and I just made it to this store with my last gallon of gas. I was afraid it’d all be looted, but it was not, and I charged inside. One cannot face the apocalypse without good boots. Fortunately, the store turned out to be a outdoor supply type place, and I was browsing the boots when a classmate wandered up and we talked about how messed up the world was and how we missed the simple days of college. The world ended somewhere around there, but I got my boots, darnit. I’m not actually concerned about the end of the world, incidentally, but it did make the quest for boots much more dramatic than in real life.

On to the links! I spend entirely too much time on the internet.
Best bloopers ever, from Prince Caspian. “I’m Prince Caspian!” “No you aren’t, get off.” I love the doorknob coming off in Peter’s hand.

Ok, as a side note, along with the bloopers people posted some deleted scenes, and one of them was of Susan shooting a pinecone, which landed neatly on the ground, impaled by the arrow. Maybe that’s how it works if you’re Susan and you’re in Narnia. When you’re Stephanie in North Carolina, the arrow hits the pinecone, which shatters in a bazillion pieces, and the arrow does the craziest ricochet known to man, nearly taking out your cat. I’m just saying.

Crazy cool research project.
When someone first told me about this, I thought it was pretty dumb and proof that we will watch anything. Fifteen minutes later, I was going “Awww” with the worst of them. Started out with 6 puppies, now down to 3, I believe.
A little bird, a little girl, a little story. Watch this, and then watch the rest of this guy’s stuff. Do it!
The Art of Invisibility. This and a few other links shamelessly stolen from friends on Facebook.
Strangers may cheer you up.
Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. I loved this show so much. You can’t tell me you didn’t like Mr. Rogers (double negative!). I remember everything about that show. I even remember the names of King Friday’s two pet wooden birds on sticks! Really. Mimus polyglottus and Troglyoditus Aieden. I have no idea how to spell the last one, having only heard it when I was little, but I distinctly remember their names, and that they called them Mimus and Trog for short. Mimus Polyglottus is the Latin name for the mockingbird; does anyone know what the second one is, or how it’s spelled?
Awesome wallpapers.
An etymologist’s view of the world, which is absolutely wonderful.
Everything’s amazing, but nobody’s happy.

Well, I’m happy. 🙂