-- I suppose it's just because time zooms by at such an incredible pace (which I thought wasn't supposed to happen until AFTER one had children), but it seems like as soon as I hang up the broom after sweeping, I turn around to find the floor covered in dust and grit again. Alternative explanation: the cats are digging a tunnel, a la The Great Escape. I should check their trouser pockets.

-- I'm currently reading Malcolm Gladwell's Blink, which is chock full of interesting ideas, but this line really spoke to me: By making people think about jam, Wilson and Schooler turned them into jam idiots. You don't need to know the context; jam is just inherently funny.

-- I've been giving a lot of thought lately to my list of celebs I wish I were friends with. At the top of the list is Moby. He's been on the list for a long time -- I just can't imagine NOT getting on well with him. Ellen Degeneres is also a fairly firm favourite, but I start waffling from there. Probably Alan Davies; Brian May, except I might be too starstruck; Malcolm Gladwell is new to the list, but he seems pretty awesome; and I WOULD say Steven Pinker, except he's far too intimidatingly smart. I'm not sure why I've put so much time into thinking about this.

-- After reading through a lot of my 'long-ago' bloggings, I'm tempted to make a better effort here. I really like Brian's 'Kitchen Diary' series, which is a take off on Nigel Slater's, of course, which I adore (oh, I'm adding Nigel Slater to my list!). I'd like to do something a bit like that, as well as mini 'articles' about gardening, crafts, local stuff, and genuine web-logging, when I find links I love.

It might be a good idea for me to start by seeing if there's anything YOU would like to ask me about. Maybe a shorter, FAQ-style question, or a topic with a bit more depth. If you've got a question, send an e-mail to anna.torborg @ gmail.com (remove the spaces, of course). One thing you're not allowed to ask about is the colour of my kitchen. It's Sherwin William's Meader Blue.

-- PS: The photo is for Bench Monday

For the last installment of my 'Back Then' week, I present to you a little something I like to call 'I Was So Old at Such a Young Age'. The photo has nothing to do with the post, really, except that it was taken on the same bed I laid in while cursing my noisy neighbours. Monty was such a good hamster.

The (underage) girls who live on the ground floor of our house and their (supposedly legal) boyfriends enjoy to party. And like most Stupid Young People (as opposed to Clumsy, Yet Moderately Clever Young People, the category to which I like to think I belong), their partying relies heavily on Music I Don't Care For, also known as Thumpy Thumpy Music.

Over the course of three days, I've been treated to the bass lines of, I don't know, four songs. Just kidding. It's actually about a hundred songs by people who just don't know more than four bass lines. There's thump thump thumpa thumpa and thumpa thumpa thummmp thummmp and thump th-thump thump [rest] and, lastly, THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. That last one's neat because it makes the house rattle just like the washing machine. What I find remarkable is that the bass line doesn't change for the entire song. Where's the verse? Where's the chorus? Where's the middle eight? I'm not saying you've got to stick to a formula to make good music (because, actually, I think most people would agree that's exactly what you shouldn't do.), but an unvarying bass line for a thirty minute song (that's how long it seems at four in the morning)?

Now, I like loud music just as much as the next person. But not for dancing, which I think is why I don't understand Thumpy Thumpy Music. Loud music is good for playing guitar to. It's also handy when you want to sit around with friends and appreciate good music. Loudly. But sweaty dancing with a plastic cup of beer in my hand? Not my thing. Maybe what I'll do is introduce the kids downstairs to the world of narcotics, which will open their minds to new musical horizons. Or hallucinogens! Then they'll be too distracted by the bugs in their arms to want to dance to Thumpy Thumpy Music.

Excellent. I don't see how this could possibly go wrong.

Today's blast from the (recent) past is from 2003 again. What can I say? It was a good year. I found a post from the long weekend I spent in London, exploring the city on my own. I feel like I see the city in such a different light, having lived there, but my opinion of London changed a lot even before that. By the visit I wrote about below, I was starting to like London for its quirks instead of the obvious attractions. The photo is of Soho Square, off Oxford Street (and home to Govinda's restaurant) -- I developed it myself in the hodge-podge darkroom we had in our house in Scotland.

18 April 2003

I'm not so sure that today is "Good" Friday. I can think of a few other adjectives that make more sense.

Bad Friday -- The British Library is closed. All weekend. Lame. So not what Jesus would have wanted.
Weird Friday -- The Southwark tube stop was completely empty when I got off the train. Everything was running, but there was nobody around. It's a really weird station anyway -- really big and space-agey and brand new-ish, but the only line it runs is the Jubilee.
Paul Friday-- Paul plays his first London show of this tour tonight. It's like London doesn't even care. Are they too good for Paul?
Bad SpacebarFriday-- How do Ialwayschoosethe computer with the gimp spacebar?

London is a very good place to go by yourself. We've had the best weather imaginable. It's so weird, because when I was here over spring break, I was ducking into shops to get out of the cold. Yesterday, I was going inside to get out of the sun and into the air conditioning.

I went to The Lion King last night. It really is as good as everybody's been saying all these years. It made me feel like I was thirteen again. Let's see. . . I had a donut for the first time in over a year! Govinda's treats me right, yo. I'd move to London for the egg-free cakes alone. It was just a cake donut, not a raised donut, but it had lemon frosting and raspberry jam on top.

The hostel I'm staying in is twenty-seven times nicer than the one last time. It's even twenty-three times better than the YHA hostel in Windermere. There are twelve of us in one room (twelve!) which seems like a lot, but once you get used to living with five other people in your room, another six really doesn't make a difference. The beds are like funny boxes stacked up, but they're comfortable, so it's okay. The shower works, there are sinks in our room, and they serve tri-taters for breakfast. It's really classy.

[Tomorrow will end my flashback week -- 2004! How'd it get to be five years ago already?]

Ah, 2003. A fine year. I studied in Scotland AND I got to know Rob. Arguably two of the more influential events in my adult life, no? Yes. Today's post from the vault is like a double cop-out, as it's a 'best-of' summary I did of 2003 early in the following year. Mmm, twice-recycled material. Both photos were taken on the estate in Dalkeith, where I stayed when I was in Scotland.

January
I followed the same path that Little Old Man had taken us on a couple days ago, but it was better this time. Instead of having to complain about mud and wasting time trying not to die, I was able to stop and look around.

February
Also, the majority of my roommates are big sissies. "Ohhhhhhhh my goodness," they said when I last tried to charge my MP3 player, "It's getting warm. . . . now it's warm. Oh noooo. Warm. It's warm. It's not room temperature. It's slightly above that -- yes, I'd say it's warm. The entire room is going to burn down. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. We're all going to die in our sleep." Like they've never used electricity before. . . . Now, if I've learned nothing else from my father, I've learned that it is worthwhile -- nay, essential to take risks with electricity.

March
Speaking of crazy, how about this weather we're having in Scotland? What? You're not in Scotland? Well, it's crazy, let me tell you. Sunshine and baby lambs all over the place. Maybe lambs aren't really an element of weather, but they certainly make the day seem nicer.

April
Maybe I'll make a ton of money before I graduate (you know, during that period in which magic becomes the new physics and all) and I'll be able to afford a one-year creative writing masters program. Maybe. You never know.

May
The city of La Crosse's motto is "We Have No Jobs. No Jobs for You!"

June
So, as you can see, I have now talked about walking home, my lunch, and going to work. This is what I will be doing this afternoon. If you are considering having an afternoon of your own, I hope I have given you some good ideas about what you could do on the afternoon that you will be having. Okay. Thank you. [Jessie, did we take Public Speaking together that summer?]

July
I assumed that by "Do you need your [bike] tire pumped up?" they meant, "Want us to kidnap you so you can never see anybody you love ever again?" I had to think quickly. I mean, I didn't want to be kidnapped, but I REALLY didn't want to have to walk home. So I said yes.

August
Today, I settled down to read a book I had started a long time ago, and what did I see crawling around inside the front cover? A BOOKLICE!! Er, a book. . . louse.

September
I've been busy trying to plan out my life. I know, I know, it sounds really easy, but it's shaping up to be a bit of a challenge.

October
"Wot's all this, then?" I ask myself. A fat free, cholesterol free, high protein, completely vegan snack? Why, that must be horrible! So I buy it.

November
I enjoy reading about how so-and-so went into the studio today to lay down a track. That's crazy. I should start talking about how I went into Microsoft Word today to lay down some words.

December
If I ever run a calendar company, I'll put out one called "Curly-Haired Men of Rock," and it'll feature Brian May and Roger Daltrey and Robert Plant. I can think of two people who would buy that calendar, and only one of them is me.

More from the vault! This time from 2002. Some musings on spring, thanks to the Friday Five, which I used to do regularly -- my feelings on the seasons haven't changed terribly. And bookish thoughts (with a reminder of just how... focused I was on the Beatles).

22 March 2002

1. What is your favorite time of year? Probably spring.
2. What is it about your favorite season that, well, makes it your favorite season? After months of cold weather (or months of mild weather and one month of horrible, horrible, are-you-kidding-me coldness), it's so nice to be able to go outside without a jacket again. And everything is pretty. And school's almost over. Hmmm, spring.
3. What is your least favorite time of year? Winter. I've had enough of it.
4. Do you do anything to celebrate or recognize the changing of seasons? Besides my rockin' Vernal Equinox Dance Party? Oh wait, that didn't happen.
5. What's your favorite thing to do outside? Hm, nothing fancy. Enjoy the weather, when it's nice.

14 May 2002

Last summer was delicious with new books. I went to Barnes and Nobel with Ben and Steve a couple days ago and got The Catcher in the Rye. I'd never read it before -- very good. Anyway, now there are so many books I want. There's a great hardcover book put out by Rolling Stone titled Harrison, about, of course, George Harrison. It's swell. Some nice words from Olivia Harrison and great pictures. I also really want some more of Linda McCartney's books of photographs, but I can only seem to find those on Amazon, not in actual bookstores (besides The Sixties, which I already have). And I will horde little paperback books like an octopus hordes shine-y things. Yes.

Something else an academic education will do for you. If you go along with it any considerable distance, it'll begin to give you an idea what size mind you have. What it'll fit and, maybe, what it won't. After a while, you'll have an idea what kind of thoughts your particular size mind should be wearing. For one thing, it may save you an extraordinary amount of time trying on ideas that don't suit you, aren't becoming to you. You'll begin to know your true measurements and dress your mind accordingly.-- The Catcher in the Rye

Tomorrow: 2003! The most Scottish year of my life.

Hello, the internet! At some point last week, I wondered what I had been up to at this time several years ago. Lucky for me, I've been blogging since the turn of the century, and I've got all those words saved on an external hard drive. I thought I would make this week a week of looking back -- seeing what I was up to in March of the early naughts.

A bit of background: Blogging was still very new when I started; I was in college; I was funnier, but spoke a lot more nonsense back then. Oh, and I'll include photos I took roughly around the time of the original posts. A whole week of new posts of old stuff!

Here are some meta posts about blogging from 2001. The photos were taken with my Lomo and are of the marsh that was nearby my college campus.

18 March 2001

There are webloggers I know who talk about personal stuff on their sites, and after stopping myself from doing so today, I realized that I don't. --wha-huh? *shrug* Maybe if I had a wider audience I'd feel a little more anonymous, but since I think my viewing public is contained within a five person clique, it's just not so. Maybe some day I'll be one of those tell-all bloggers, but today is not that day.

On another completely different note, I took both arms off of The Chair to prepare for tonight's exciting glue-filled event [I had an excellent reupholstered desk chair which eventually fell to pieces, despite my repairs.]. It was fun until I realized the sharp glue remnants weren't arm-friendly and thus made it irritating to type. Lucky for you I reattached the right arm to deliver this fine piece of internet journaling. Good evening.

28 March 2001

I love the internet! I really, really do. It's so funny and quaint and behaves just like normal life. I can't remember if I've talked about this before. I don't think so. See, I've seen how people divide into these crazy little cliques. But, as far as I've seen, they're much friendlier cliques than in real life. I mean, yeah, some sparring goes on, but it's over much more quickly because stuff just happens like that on the internet. I guess there're people who'll always be picking fights because... well, people are like that, but from what I've seen, things are pretty decent most of the time. [Ha ha ha ha.]

And there's sub-cliques within the cliques. It's just all so funny. I'm not sure why I like it so much, but I find it interesting. Everybody's got something to offer, even if it's just ten different versions of a boring day.

Okay, that's right, I had nothing to update about.

[I'll be back tomorrow with 2002!]

It was warm today, people. Okay, maybe not going-out-with-no-sleeves warm (it was windy, after all), but warmer than it's been in a looong while.

Actually, winter didn't seem so long this year. I was dreading a winter like last years', which had built up the season as something not unlike torture in my mind. But this year? Just... not as bad, somehow. I keep thinking that it can't possibly be the middle of March; spring can't be on its way, because I haven't been properly beaten down by winter yet. I mean -- not that I'm complaining, or anything.

Today, I went for a run outside. I took the cats out for a stroll in the back yard. I put a blanket on my living room floor and laid in the sun there while I read submissions (and I had a mini floor-picnic when I ate my afternoon snack). I had the windows open, and I remembered that there are SOUNDS other than the furnace coming on. I think that was the biggest surprise -- hearing the windchimes in my backyard and birds and everything else, and realizing that those sounds are just THERE all summer long.

I feel reconnected with everything, really. When it's warm out, my world extends from the rooms of my house to the yard around me, down the street, along the bike paths -- it's incredible. My thoughts have been turning more and more to gardening lately, without any effort from me; it's an instinct now.

I opened the door to my bedroom this afternoon, and I thought, 'Hey, it even smells like summer in here!' It took me a while to realize why that was, but then I did -- I'd brought the outdoors in with me from my run and threw it in the laundry basket. It's not the smell of sweat, but it's something like that -- the way a body smells after working outdoors. Fresh air, and a little bit of dirt.

I'm not so foolish as to think we've seen the last of freezing temperature -- or snow, even. I mean, maybe. But maybe not. This is Minnesota, after all. But I still can't help feeling like hey! Wow! Spring already!

Two posts in one day! You should save this one for the next time I forget to update for two weeks.

I would consider myself to be agnostic, but Richard Dawkins says that every 'agnostic' actually leans one way or the other, so I guess I lean towards believing. At least, I think it would be nice if there were something bigger out there, although I have a hard time with the actual belief part.

Anyway, one of the nice things about believing in a god must be that you have somebody to thank for the random things. That seems like a decent reason to indulge in faith, actually -- a figurehead to receive your gratitude. It would be hard to war over that.

For example, after nights of awful tossing and turning, 'I am so thankful that I slept well last night.' A good night's sleep just 'is' sometimes, but I feel as though I ought to show appreciation for it.

I can thank my mom for taking me grocery shopping when the budget is tight (and I do!) but it's even bigger than that. 'I am so thankful to have been born into a time and place where it's possible to have food this easily.'

So I can see that as a benefit to having faith. Not that it's something one uses a list of pros and cons to decide, but you know, if one did... But mainly I'm just thankful for the big and little things that are out of my control yet still seem to (sometimes) come out right. It's nice when that happens.

A while back, my pal Monette had a 'Five Things' meme on her journal. The idea was that commenters could ask for a list of five things that she associates with them, and then they'd go off and elaborate on the topics on their own blogs. I got my list, and since it's her birthday today (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!), it's only right that I get straight to answering them.

1. Scotland -- Isn't it crazy how relatively short periods in our lives can influence us? I studied outside Edinburgh for only a semester, but it was such a pivotal time in my life. I learned to explore the world around me while I was there, and Scotland is probably one of the most amazing places to explore! The photo above is from the Isle of Arran, off the west coast of the country. I spent an incredible long weekend there in the company of friends. Scotland (and, specifically, Edinburgh) is so special and important to me; I think part of my brain will always be waiting to go 'back home' to there.

2. Gardens -- Yes, I have some of these! In fact, just the other day I looked at a gardening magazine, and I've been shaking my fist at the frozen ground ever since. I have a hard time applying my full attention to tasks, but gardening is something that can occupy my brain 100%. I spend hours digging up sod and moving it, or on my hands and knees, planting perennials, and the activity at hand is all that's on my mind. I also can't get over the magical nature of vegetable gardening. How does a seed know?

3. Home Ownership -- I feel like I should say something topical about this, what with all the economic crises and homes going into foreclosure. But I'm still paying my mortgage every month, so that isn't really the story of MY home ownership.

I am very glad to have a place to call my own, though. I found it difficult to pick up and move so often in the years between leaving for college and the day I closed on this house. Even if you feel comfortable in a space, having that thought of impermanence hanging over your head can stop you really settling in. Well, it did for me, anyway. There was always that thought: 'When I get a house, I can x, y, z.' Now I can just do those things. I still daydream about the future and about someday having more land and living out in the country, but it's a different kind of daydreaming. It doesn't keep me from making a home for myself right NOW.

4. Cats -- Well, that's just crazy! Who would associate me with cats? Okay, I suppose it does have a certain validity. I've mentioned several times before about how I always thought I liked cats and dogs equally, but that it's become clear recently that I'm really a 'cat person'.

I guess I just find cats more rewarding (and less smelly and softer and more polite, in general). I'm always excited to go to another home that has a cat; you really feel as though you've achieved something if the cat 'takes' to you. (Although not with my cats; they're shameless attention-seekers.) Cats have standards, and I can appreciate that.

5. Books -- I LOVE a beautiful, well designed book. I don't think I'll ever willingly switch over to ebooks on a personal-use level, because that's just not what book-reading is about. I'm happy to seek convenience and technology when it comes to other things (music, particularly, although I do also have a decent vinyl collection), but if I want to read a book, I read a book. I read a hell of a lot on the computer, but that falls into a different category.

I always feel as though I'm under-read (learning to feel that way is part of getting an English degree), but I think that's partly due to having read a lot of non-fiction in my adult years. And partly because I don't get the appeal of the (English, mostly) 'classics'. I mean, I understand that other people like them, so you don't have to try to explain it to me; I just don't go in for all that.

Also, I publish some books. That's not a bad gig.

Done!

A list of like-able things, as a reminder to self:

-- These photos.
-- This cup of decaf that I brewed isn't terrible.
-- Thanks to half-and-half.
-- This.
-- This.
-- This.
-- Okay, all of flickr.
-- Packages in the post.

-- This cat has been my pal for fifteen years and still likes me.
-- Chocolate pudding.
-- Thrift stores.
-- Wiksten.
-- Door Sixteen.
-- Sending packages to people.
-- Houseplants.
-- Working on projects (instead of just thinking about them).
-- My Fabriano journal.
-- Sleep.

-- Look, I have a collection! I don't actually like 'having a collection', in the sense that one is always on the lookout to add to said collection. But this one happened accidentally: the first mini plant pot was the one with marigolds printed on it (the one in the back), which I found in a local thrift store; the second was the Petersilie pot, which came from an Oxfam shop in Mainz; the middle pot was thrifted in Florida just last week. I'm not sure what the image on it is (I know you can't make it out in the photo either); I think it might be yellow snapdragons, though.

-- I started a new lot of alfalfa sprouts last night. I made sure to look at my diary and confirm that I'm not traveling out of town in the next week or so.

-- I've been having pain in my leg (I think it's the IT band, but I'm not sure about that), so I've been reluctant to run much lately. But I went for a run today, and my leg's been feeling the best it has for weeks. Go figure.

-- I've really been enjoying working on my photo book. Once I started putting it together in InDesign, I stopped worrying about order and just DID it, and it seems to be sorting itself out. I'm glad I'm finished with the picture-choosing process, though. I generally take two or ten photos of the same thing, and matching up the ones I wanted (already edited but too small, in flickr) with the original files was like playing a dull game of 'find the differences'. Hmm, the shadow is a bit shorter in that one. No, the handle and the spoon are a couple millimeters too close here. Unthrilling, is what that is.

-- Time for some crosswords before bed. I don't understand how it's possible that I don't dream in black and white boxes.