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Amelia Jane Perkins Smith

Amelia Jane Perkins Smith

I had another strange dream. First, I should tell you that when I get into a dream that scares me, I seem to be lucid enough normally to be able to get out of it…sometimes I can just stop the dream and wake up, sometimes I can just start in on a new dream, but normally what I can do is just change my relationship to the story, meaning, the storyline changes from first person to third person. This means it’s still a scary dream, but I’m just in the audience, instead of a player. This dream is as strange as it is, I think, because of this ability I seem to have developed.

Okay, here’s the scene: we have a very ordinary woman. In the beginning this woman is me, but I’m not clear where I stopped being the woman. Very early on, because from the very beginning I was clear that this was going to be scary.

Our very ordinary woman lives a very ordinary life, except for one thing. She has these experiences, or delusions, or dreams, of being abducted. (This is probably what freaked me out and made me insist on being in the audience on this one. These abduction memories were terrible.) She’s not really sure what to make of them. She goes back and forth on whether they’re real. In the dream/experience, she is taken from her bedroom by a strong, bulky person who’s face she doesn’t quite see. Or she doesn’t remember. And she’s taken to this strange, dark, red-lit, cramped space, with a strange white glow near the ceiling. And horrible things happen there. Rape, torture, I’m not sure. But she’s terrified, emotionally scarred by it. She’s had therapy, she’s been to abductees groups, she’s read books on the subject. She’s written poetry and create works of art based on her experience. She is something of a local celebrity for these, but no one really knows about the abductions/delusions themselves. She uses the imagery as a basis for art, and they are powerful to everyone who sees them. She had hoped that by creating them she would rid herself of the need to dream, to hallucinate, whatever. But it doesn’t stop.

And this is all background information, in the strange way that dreams just let you know things. On the day in question, we see our protagonist in her stunningly average day. She wakes up in her second floor apartment, makes her breakfast, reads a book. She watches some tv. Makes lunch (a cheese sandwich.) She goes shopping, stops to talk with some neighbours on the street. As I watch this, as the audience, I feel more and more fascinated by her and her ordinariness. As I watch her, I realize that I know everything about her. I know her name, her favourite colour, her parents names, their jobs, her credit card number, her high school grades, everything. And all this knowledge is so compelling that I’m lured out of the audience. I see her walking across a field. (It’s actually the playground of my elementary school.) I smile at her, walk up to her, and say, “Hello, Amelia Jane Perkins Smith. You’re 5’8, your favourite colour is blue, you got a B+ is grade 10 English…” and so on. She’s startled, but flattered. For some reason, she doesn’t find this creepy. We talk. I tell her that I feel as though I know her. I must be a fan, I’ve done my homework. She’s pleased. She’s not a nationally acclaimed artist, just a local name. She wants to know all about me. So I tell her. We talk and talk and talk. We have coffee and talk. We flirt. We’re really enjoying ourselves, it’s amazing knowing someone that well, and never having known them. We keep talking, walking down the street. I tell her that I live just near here, we should head over to my place, perhaps I’ve offered to make dinner. She smiles, she’s thrilled, she’s never felt such a connection with someone. I walk up the steps to my brownstone building, walk in the front door. There is a large, maple bannister and staircase. We realize that live in the same building! How could we not have noticed? She lives on the second floor, there’s brown-carpeted landing in front of her door, with the sun shining on it, we can see it from the front door. (Her apartment, in this dream, is always filled with sunshine.) I lead her under the staircase, she didn’t know there was a door here. This is where I live. I open the door, and she walks in.

It’s dark, with a single red lamp, wood panelling, with one small window against the ceiling, with a white sheer. It’s very cramped, dank, smelly. And suddenly she realizes. This is the place in her abduction dreams. I close the door behind me. The reason I know so much about her isn’t miraculous at all. I’ve been stalking her for years. I’m her abductor.

Dreams

Dreams

I had the oddest dream last night. And I’m choosing to write about it just before I head off to bed tonight. But it’s been rolling around in my mind all day, so I want to record what I can make out of it…

It begins in a swimming pool. I don’t remember the story that goes with that, but I’m in a swimming pool, and I realize suddenly that an ancient ex of mine is there. I haven’t seen her in years. But I’m not sure that this person in the dream is the real, thing…but it did have her shoulder-length, luscious, glossy brown curls (which she had up until we broke up and she decided to get really dykey). I was swimming when it occurred to me how devastatingly attractive she was, how time had passed, how I had run into her when I was totally unready to deal with the prospect, and damn, how attractive she was. I think that’s what I started flirting. Pretty seriously. Pretty intense. I’m not sure she knew it was me, but she liked me.

Part 2: scene: a small, oval-shaped room with chairs along the far wall, and an oval table filled with little tidbits in the middle. My long-disappeared ex is standing in the room, while others are sitting. My ex is now a man. Really, a man. Well, perhaps more like a 17 year old boy than a man, so sort of still LIKE her other self, but now male. And, to top it all of, s/he’s wearing a suit of armour. What’s peculiar about all this (well, other than the fact that my ex is switching sexes before my eyes) is that I’m just as attracted to her/him as I was before. Possibly more. And the conversation continues. I remember distinctly touching his/her breast plate and being very conscious of her/him being a man. We continue flirting shamelessly. Things are progressing rapidly, we’re looking for private spots to have a rendez-vous, and s/he is looking increasingly worried. S/he says, “I should tell you….from the waist down, I’m a woman.” And I’m deliciously relieved suddenly. And…then I wake up. With a cold nose on my face, because I’m in Guelph and my dog wanted to greet me with his typical joyous morning hello.

I thought this was the strangest thing. She did have the glossiest, most lovely curls, though. She really did.

What Does your Name say about you?

What Does your Name say about you?

What does your name say about you?
This is what they say about me….

Rochelle:

You make impersonal decisions quickly, but not so with personal concerns. You like to think things over carefully, but tend to be indecisive. You have a great deal of loyalty to those you love. You have much inner strength. You are clever, inventive, imaginative and youthful. You enjoy socializing. You work hard to achieve material success through your own efforts. You can be quite inventive and quite curious. You have a diplomatic flair to your nature. Equality and fairness are important to you. You must learn the lessons of self-worth; learn to love yourself before you can love others. You need to learn to be expressive. You are a person who cannot tolerate being misunderstood.

Mazar:

You want to be productive and feel useful, and enjoy helping solve problems. You like to be busy and not waste time. You have a need to be up front. You are compassionate, highly imaginative and creative. You have a need to be up front. You have a lack of confidence in your mental abilities and do not like being forced into giving your opinion.

Apparently I really have a need to be up front. 🙂 (Is this why I blog so faithfully?)

Helga’s Cowches

Helga’s Cowches

blue found me this fabulous site, and after showing it around, it turns out that Wonder Yuka is enamoured and might even get one! The story: Helga, our friendly neighbourhood farm hand, gets attached to the cows who then are led off the slaughter. One night a horrible thunderstorm hits. She writes, when I went out to feed the cows, I found them beneath a split and blackened tree, all dead. Six little calves huddled together a few feet away. As I led the orphans back to the barn, something inside me changed. The years of accepting sad reality were over. If these little guys had survived an act of God as powerful as that storm, they sure weren’t going to be killed by an act of man, not if I could help it!

That’s how the cow sanctuary began.

Trouble was, I wasn’t a rich heiress. I was a farm worker making minimum wage. These calves weren’t even mine. They belonged to the man who owned the farm. How was I going to save the calves?

I exchanged six months’ wages for the lives of those calves. Never was money better spent, I thought as I hugged them. But what next? They were growing fast and would soon weigh at least half a ton each. No matter how hard I worked, farm wages weren’t going to be enough to feed them. “How? How? How?” filled my thoughts.

The answer came to me as I lay in the straw snuggling with my cow family: I’d make life-size stuffed cows for others to snuggle the way I snuggled with my real cows. And with that, Helga’s Cowches were born.

Living the Dream

Living the Dream

I decided to enjoy a little This American Life this evening. Thank God for streaming radio. Tonight’s chosen episode: Living the Dream: There’s a deep impulse in American culture that says that you can make yourself into anyone. Today, three stories about people who tried to do just that.

Bad Girl Swirl

Bad Girl Swirl

Bad Girl Swirl
Things to do with your old Bridesmaid dresses: Throw a bridesmaid beauty pageant for your friends, with prize categories like “most reflective”, “biggest butt bow,” and “all-around ugliest.”

Things to do with photos of your evil ex: Write embarrassing sexual stats on back, laminate, and trade with all your friends. Mail off to inmates in local prisons with a touching and titillating letter of introduction. (Include your ex’s return address and phone number, of course.) Spread one inch apart on ungreased cookie sheet and broil on high. Bury in backyard with a dead fish. Drain toilet and superglow to bottom of toilet bowl.

How to clean under the bed:
What you need:
* Endust, Pledge, or other aerosol dusting spray
* a long haired cat or small fluffy dog
* pet comb
What you do:
* Spray fur of cat or dog with Endust and bowl pet under the bed until all dust-bunnies are picked up and clinging to pet.
* comb pet’s coat thoroughly.

Things that make me smile

Things that make me smile

The tremendously wild hair I woke up with this morning (a shower for bed is always good for morning entertainment), the lovely comments in blue’s LiveJournal, my new funkis in the bathroom; a transparent red phone; sunshine in the morning; email from Evita; blooming geraniums on my balcony; clocks of all varieties and sizes; my kitchen without any cabinet doors; a new song uploaded (a Dar Williams song about Mary Magdalene, with some mistakes in it and a very drastically messed up ending); eggplant parmigiana in my fridge (only one quarter gone); Sunday morning radio; warm days and cool nights; being me!

Generics Day

Generics Day

Well…today I build a silly generic room, and finished off the last little bits of the Generic Talking Stick room. And I spoke to my lovely friend Evita today, who’s sounding sort of blue. I discovered that she works on a moo more local to her, which is sadly lacking in tools. This isn’t their fault, it’s not really anyone’s fault, it’s just that the basic moocore doesn’t come equipped with a whole lot of stuff. Well, comparatively speaking. Especially these moos that don’t have a) any programmers, and b) a whole lot of people to know what else is out there and what can be ported over.

Well, I love Evita. Though I know I shouldn’t talk about it right now, it’s one of my greatest hopes that I’ll see her living in my neck of the woods shortly. And for the most selfish of reasons. I just think my life would be so greatly improved by her presence…she’s one of those people, you know, the ones who will understand (and take seriously) some of the sillier things in your mind that you really want to take seriously. I’ve never met anyone like her. It would just be nice to be able to hop on the subway and end up at her doorstep, bottle of wine in hand, and spend an evening talking shop/fun/social/chicks and so on. But we can do that in any case, even if she’s NOT in my neck of the woods. Ah, the dissertation drama….

Anyway, so I found out that Evita has her own MOO to deal with. Well, perhaps you already know that I have commited myself to building generics of late. Initially I was commited to building Bingen, but lately I’ve been thinking about generics. This started when I built the keyword bot (which shockingly worked completely reliably!) because I accidentally deleted the parent of the fake-out kw bot I’d been using up until then. The new was was a kid of $thing only, so no traceback and no conflicts. And solid as a rock. It was pointed out to be pretty quickly (the next morning) that this bot had many more uses than just fixing my own characters in Bingen. It immediately went into use in Marlene’s Russian-English tutorial, and was a hit at the teacher workshops last week. Evita was saying today that it would be ideal for tutoring, because you can program it to repeat information that teachers don’t need to type in over and over again. This pleases me greatly. After the kw bot, I managed to get the whole world to help me get my Talking Stick Room working (it’s perfect now, thanks to leigh). I built a very simple room that you can add and remove noises from as well, for truna, another fabulous MOOprof from Australia whom I simply adore. So I was sitting on a series of generics that were, for all intents and purposes, mine.

And Evita’s moo needed some tools. So I ported them over. Because I love Evita and I want all her pursuits to be as simple and successful as possible. And a lack of tools shouldn’t stand in her way.

Besides, it feels GREAT to be the author of tools people can use. I hope someone does. 🙂

Tuscans and their Families

Tuscans and their Families

This is just unbelievable…I’m sitting in the library reading this and exclaiming aloud as I do. People must think I’m insane. But read this:

Prevailing attitudes toward children, of both sexes, also led to oversight and confusion. Adults tended to ignore, neglect, and forget their offspring; infants in early life possessed a kind of transparency. It may be that their slim chances for survival prompted adults to keep a certain distance from their infants, to avoid cementing emotional attachments with them until their chances of survival susbtantially improved. Moreover, it is probable that the scant value accorded female babies multiplied the instances of simple oversight. The underreporting of female infants may thus be futher evidence of the negligence or indifference with which a father of this epoch regarded his daughter. Herihy and Klapish-Zuber, Tuscans and their familes

You see what I have to work with? Sheeesh.

Blue’s visit

Blue’s visit

My friend blue is planning a visit to Toronto! Yay! I’ve decided to make a little list of things we could see while she’s here.

First, of course, the ROM has to be on the list, as far as I’m concerned…I love the ROM. Best museum ever. 🙂 Well, as far as I’m concerned. It’s got so much diverse stuff. And I love those dinosaurs, of course. And then how about St. Lawrence Market, which is just down the street from me? Mmmm….good food, good cooking, fabulous bread and cheese. Mmmmmmm…..and then…some serious cheap shopping at Honest Ed’s! Let’s see, what else…

Oh, well, Casa Loma, which was built by a very rich man who always wanted a castle. We could head over to the Art Gallery of Ontario, and the famous Bata shoe museum! But, you know it’s all happening at the zoo…I do believe it. I do believe it’s true. Or…for the historical touch, we could hit Blackcreek pioneer village. Or, for that foreign flavour, head out to African Lion’s safari, which is just the most obvious thing to have in southern Ontario. Mmmm….we could even take in a very expensive meal at CN tower! And I haven’t even mentioned the island yet….

5110294

5110294

Reader response to the Hero contemplation

Now lemmee get this straight

You say
You’re tortured because you can’t write
Or
You can’t write because you’re tortured

You say
These times have made me cynical
Or
These times confirm your cynicism

Now lemmee say one thing
I’d rather rope steers
Than talk politics with you

I’d rather get skunk drunk
Under a goose-neck trailer

Your despair is more boring
Than The Merv Griffin Show

Your sniveling whine
Your dime-a-dozen solutions to crime

Get off your tail and cook
Do time
Anything
But don’t burn mine

2/80
Santa Rosa, Ca.

Sam Shepard

Oh yeah……….

Backwash

Backwash

I have recently acquired a column at Backwash. It’s really a very amazing place…because it focuses on personality, people are actually encouraging me to talk about myself. I mean, do they know what they’re in for?

So far the only complaint i really have is that I can’t update the journal section without wiping out all the links I posted. Bah. Some of us write a lot more than that…i have to stop thinking about that journal thing as a blog and thing of it more as a column that requires more THOUGHT than a blog does. Once I get a better grip on the whole thing, yes, then you’ll see additions to this page to reflect that….*rubs her hands with glee.*

Well, I’m happily in the a/c’ed office this afternoon, though only an hour to go. The one time this shift seems to go by quickly is when I’m afraid to go outside. I’ve decided that I should definitely eat out today. It takes too much effort to make myself something to eat, so I just won’t do it.

Oh, and I should point out that it was Pound that brought me to backwash in the first place….another almost-blog that I saw listed in Bust, a mag which I should read more often, but in reality I only ever see when my sister buys me a copy.

In an hour I will have eaten something, and I might be slightly more coherent.

4942928

4942928

Layers
A whiff of lavender…Could it be that EvaB is looking for you in Tabula?
She pages, “uknow photoshop?”
She pages, “and the idea of layers”
She pages, “visible and invisible”
She pages, “well i think of people like that”
She pages, “if you save the file as mere jpg cause its for public consumption then you flatten the layers”
She pages, “if you save it as .png or .psd its a drain on the memory BUT”
She pages, “all the layers visible and invisible get saved”
She pages, “whether you have made them visible or not”
She pages, “i find that comforting knowing there are layers on layers beyond layers of psd in people”
She pages, “you forget the layer you made and then you make it visible and you realize yeah it was always there”
She pages, “moral: you have enough memory to remember just because you are not seeing some layers now they dont exist but maybe she is not ready to see them”

4922203

4922203

Deleting stuff isn’t usually good
I got frustrated and deleted my a-dock last night. That wasn’t wise. It was just doing it’s job, and I like having it. A-dock is a small bar that floats on my screen and tells me what programs I have open. I really, really like it. I think it also acts as a launcher, but I don’t like that. I want something very clear for that. If I just have one program open, that’s all I want to see. I usually let it float on the right side of my screen, under my apple list of what’s open. This is a fake out version of something that’s in OS X. I really, really like it.

I also deleted what I was using as a launcher. I want a separate launcher that comes up as a small screen that I can open with a hot key and close when I’m finished with it. I had been using something that was a non-floating strip of icons, very small, that I could snuggle on one side of my screen and call up with a hot key. But I was never really thrilled with it. I’m not really sure why. So I downloaded a new one called x-launcher. So far I really really really like it. It’s small and you have folders that when open show you icons of the items you can launch. And it has a ‘main’ folder for stuff you use a lot. Fab. I have it hotkeyed. That’s better. I have both of them in aqua themes, and they look very clean and clear. I like I like I like.

So maybe deleting stuff stuff isn’t always bad.

4887237

4887237

Neanderthal child recreated in Switzerland….from that picture, it looks to me that it wasn’t imaginary fairies running around pre-modern Europe. They were neanderthals. Cooooool. In my head, the word ‘neanderthal’ still means dirty, hunched over, scary-looking dude. This is great….look at how useful computers can be in traditional disciplines…

4881281

4881281

Happy Birthday to me
Well, I went out for dinner with salmon tonight and had a lovely time. Yack yack yack, I talked my head off about stuff I don’t usually get to talk about much…school stuff. And then it hit me…I’m EXCITED to talk about school stuff again. Amazing! And I’m not even taking any pills of any kind anymore. It’s my own joyous goodness. All me. I’m saddened that it didn’t strike Heidi has a nice idea to wish me happy birthday today, seeing that I flew my ass out to do the same to her. I knew today would be bittersweet because of that anyway….

But here’s a strange omen (what do you think of THIS, Eva?); this evening the city was filled with aphids. FILLED. Swarms and swarms of aphids. By the time we ambled back home again they were gone…but during the day, it was insanely strange. I mean, they weren’t doing anything, they weren’t biting or anything, but it was just strange that we were wandering around in clouds of tiny little bugs. And first no one was sure what they were…even the entomologists. But it was finally determined that they were aphids, but no one’s sure why they dropped in all at once. Something to do with the weather, and possibly migration. Surreal. Eva, I really do need a reading on that….

Did I mention the dream about being a butcher and slicing off my hands for money? How odd. 🙂

Well, I’m 27 years old now. I’m anticipating a very good year.

MOO teaching: Rochelle style

MOO teaching: Rochelle style

Alright, I was talking to salmon about this and didn’t manage to really remember what I was originally thinking. How would I do it? I can totally justify the blog thing, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I would use blogs for a history class. To me, it’s a given at this point. Now, at that point I would hope that we would have edublog fully underway (by then it would probably be at 3.0 or so)…now, if we could have edublog work along with achieve, we’d really be rocking. Because then I could tell students to get a char first, which would generate them a blog. Yeah. But anyway….MOO teaching…

Okay. Assignment one, which would be the weeding out assignment and intro to MOO #1; login in (through Bingen’s own login screen) and wander through Bingen. I would want a short written report on three historical elements that they saw; I’d have to think more about how to word that question so that they get the most out of it. I might hand out a scavenger hunt, and have kids go complete it and hand it in. It would be a fairly specific sort of hunt, and it would be a hunt for historical fact. No no no, I wouldn’t hand anything out. I would tell them that our first assignment would be a field trip. I may or may not insist that they meet in a specific lab…I expect most students would have internet access at home. I think that will depend on how comfortable I feel about directing moo experiences online at that point. My goal with the MOO right now (as in, this summer) is to make the MOO user friendly to the point that if students come on without a better introduction; well, I would like the MOO to require less introduction. I would like it to be easier to figure out. And I think we’re getting there….it will get better and better as we tweak and fix and so on. More about that later….okay, so that would be assignment one…

The next thing I would do is set up office hours at a fairly un-fun time. Like, first thing monday morning or Friday afternoon, or something like that. And I would set up much more fun office hours online, and let students know that I’m available at Achieve during those times. There would probably be a lot more of those hours.

Then…I would set up a series of tutorial times. Tutorial #1 would be to send them through the tutorials I’m writing right now and build a home for themselves. I’d like to do something to get them working together on something….maybe I would just have them build homes in groups of 5 or something. Undecided.

Then….real assignment one. Mid-term assignment: Pick two historical moments covered in the course to date. Recreate them. I’ll have to create an generic justification object (!!) so they can drop one of those somewhere and tell me why they think each moment is so significant. I would give them two weeks to do it.

Then: mid-term exam. This would probably happen about a week or two after the assignment is handed in. This is in class, and it would be held in a lab. I would pick from the scenarios the students created, drop an object in each of them with the exam question on it that relates to the incident in particular. I might also link three or four projects together, and ask for an answer that incorporates all of them. Ah, so they would be in segments: There would be an exam room; with an exit to a short answer questions room (pick 5) and essay question room (choose 2 of 5). There we go.

Term 2: Well, we need a research essay. Essays are important, I realize that. So they would write a research paper. But I still want them to build something relating to it. I want them to build a key point of their essay, with no justification object, I want the building itself to do the justifying for it. The written part is the research paper. Final exam: propbably similar to the mid-term.

Hmmmm…