sailing into harbor

Well, I have navigated myself through the academic seas of Regent College and have emerged mostly unscathed! (Hopefully my GPA is in the same boat.)
Ah...I've loved my classes this term, but there is an undeniable release that comes with being totally done with everything for the term, especially when, for the most part, you feel like you've done your best work.
Now I get to return to the real world and all of those things that have been sadly neglected while I closeted myself away in academia-land. This means cleaning, shopping and mailing of Christmas presents, writing a Christmas letter, writing a family update, catching up on correspondence, and maybe a few more blog entries (lots of writing, you notice). Tomorrow I get to see Sarah and then on Sunday its down to Washington to visit Katie before heading home for Christmas.
It really is like returning from the high seas and needing to get all your shopping in while you're at port!

entering a new age!

My facebook status today: "Christina is no longer a prime age...and won't be for another five years." I thought it was rather witty. :)
So another birthday in another country. I must admit I'm suffering from a bit of the culture shock (and future uncertainty) blues so the day has been a little uneven. But! I've received many birthday wishes from friends and family, got to talk to my mom, got treated to coffee and also received this *awesome* pair of mittens.


Tomorrow...spice cake!

A thanksgiving top ten

1. My health. I have not needed to go to a doctor in...ages and Rita my dental hygenist tells me I have perfect teeth. :D
   


2. Provision of all I need--a warm, safe, and comfortable place to live; clothes to wear; access to good grocery stores; the time to prepare food. My jobs and how they have been enjoyable and managed to provide exactly what I need.
   


3. Being at Regent. Classes, lectures, chapel, community group, lunch in the atrium, working in the library, retreat, conversations, profs, peers, everything.
   


4. The chance to explore a different dimension of my gifts as a student by coming to Regent, with its goals and mission, as a unique person with a certain background and experiences.
   


5. Vancouver and its fantastic public transportation system. Also, currently, its snow.
   


6. So many opportunities--to make and hear music, to dance, to play soccer, to run, to be with people, to enjoy good food, to write and express myself.
   


7. Stealing one of Morgan's "thanks," books and the gift of literacy. There are so many great books out there with good words and beautiful stories and ideas. While my reading load at Regent is sometimes overwhelming, if anything, I feel like it's just whetted my appetite for good reading that edifies.
   


8. Putting down yet another set of roots--especially a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner tonight.
   


9. All my many many loved ones--family, old friends, new friends. My life has been and is now full of wonderful people who not only love me, but support me and push me and are half the reason I can stand wherever I am and be home.
   


10. And finally, a life in which blessings are abundant and obvious, where I don't have to work very hard to come up with a list of things to be thankful for.

yet more pictures...

I will post with actual text soon, but until then, have some pictures of:
a) snow on the mountains behind Vancouver (Friday afternoon)


b) snow on the rest of Vancouver (Saturday morning)

variable skies

These were all taken this Friday through Sunday from my back deck. Did I mention I'm living in a house with a great view?

being Americanadian, hey?

I've started to say "eh?" at the end of sentences. It's over. I'm doomed. You cannot resist the power of the "eh?" (Except, real Canadians don't say "eh?", they say "hey?".)
It's funny to move to a different country where the culture is similar to your home country. If I had moved to a place like, say, Hungary, the "moments of belonging" would be more obvious and profound: I would understand what someone said, bravely ordered something at the meat counter, given directions to a native, etc. Being here, with no language and fewer cultural differences, feeling like I belong in Canada is much more subtle. Thank goodness for hey, hey?

It's funny, but my recent trips to the States revealed to me that I have in fact put down some roots in Vancouver. While I loved my trips to DC and the Midwest (both places that are very dear to me), there was a certain anxiety to "get back home." When I flew into the Vancouver airport, I knew that I was back where I belonged.

That said, my travels to the States also revealed to me how very American I am. Because I've moved around so much, I don't think of myself as from a particular place, but now I know I'm definitely from the U.S. When I came out of the Metro in DC (on the national mall), I looked at the people around me and thought, "These people are Americans too!" and it blew my mind. How great to be among people who grew up in the same country I did, with a shared identity (no matter how small)! In Canada, whenever I talk about my past, there's a tug, a desire to explain my country so that people understand it and know what it's all about. That doesn't mean I think America is perfect. It definitely has a lot of problems. But I *care* about my country and I want to make it better.

So here I am, sandwiched between my surprisingly strong patriotic identity and my growing roots in Vancouver. I'm not totally moved in yet, "homey" feeling notwithstanding. There are still bits of my life that need working out. Last week (or the week before), I heard Jeremiah 29:28 ("Therefore build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce.") referenced multiple times and as my fellow student said, "You might want to think about that."

I am thinking. And I have realized, first, what a miracle it is to have put down roots. I've only been here for two and a half months now. That's a short time! Of course I won't have everything squared away. And this led to a second realization: even though I may be leaving Vancouver sooner rather than later, I don't need to rush the process. The important thing is to take each day as it comes, committed to the place and people it presents. I'm not always so good at this...but like everything else, it's a work in progress. :)

P.S. Dear Canadians: why do you shoot off fireworks on Halloween of all holidays? I understand that your national holiday may not be as enthusiastically celebrated with explosives as in the States, but Halloween? What's up with that?

just desserts

Today marked the exciting occasion of the Old Testament Foundations midterm. It's the first major test at Regent for most of us new students. We were told to study hard and I think most of us did. Before the exam, our professor remarked that the real value of the exam had already occurred by the time we were all sitting in the chapel at 1:00--we'd been sufficiently intimidated to put in the time and energy to think through our lectures and reading. Unsurprisingly, the exam is just an afterthought in terms of learning.

For all its anxiety, exam preparation is a great communal bonding experience. There's actual studying together, the exchange of random questions, and our fabulous review tutorial, where three teams (self-named "Babylonians," "Israelites," and "Anti-Theonomists") squared off, jeopardy style.
However, the greatest part of the test-taking happened afterward. When I emerged from the chapel with the first wave of finishers, there were pieces of paper (seven, to be exact), saying C-O-O-K-I-E-S, with an arrow. In the atrium there was a spread of cookies and a sign congratulating us on completing our first Regent midterm, organized by a group of kind second-years (mostly), who were in our shoes not too long ago.
If that isn't Regent (and Regent students) in a nutshell, I'm not sure what is.

Significant encounters, part 3

My last encounter is much less charged than the previous two and involves me being a lot less tongue-tied, which was a nice change.

I was walking around UBC with a UBC student as part of a part-time job I've picked up. I explained that I go to Regent and, before we ducked into the library, managed to clarify the venn diagram of Christianity and Catholicism for him (although I'm not sure he got it entirely. It is confusing).
Later, though, we were talking about how expensive things are in Canada and it opened up a discussion of why things cost so much, why taxes are so high, and why people who are homeless can't get jobs. He claimed that the best job in Canada is being a beggar, and this time, I managed to affirm that yes, while there are probably some street people who are working the system, there are probably many others who are just getting by. I pointed out that it's hard for homeless people to find work because they haven't slept, haven't showered, don't have "appropriate" clothes. I somehow managed to work the idea of the cycle of poverty into the conversation as well. We talked about education and he told me his mom's advice: if he didn't want to go to school, he could always be a gangster, but--if he was going to be a gangster, he had to be the top one. Otherwise it wouldn't work out. I think his mom was a very wise woman.

Our dialogue was good exchange of ideas and assumptions. It made me realize that my understanding of poverty (and related social issues) is rare. I'm no expert on poverty--my understanding of the various theories and explanations of, say, homelessness, is rudimentary at best. And it should be noted, in the world of social understanding, there is no one "right" answer because people are complicated, data is incomplete, theories are approximate. The only thing I know for sure is that I don't have all the answers--and neither does anyone else. Of course we can generalize reasons and come up with working theories (I think we have to, for mental organization) and of course there are wonderful social scientists doing excellent research that goes a long way towards explaining our social ills and how we could possibly fix them. Ultimately, like my conversation with my co-worker, it has to be a dialogue. We have to keep sharing what we know and figuring out which ideas make the most sense, but we need to start with the certainty that we don't know the answers.

Most importantly, however--this is a theme I see in all three of these conversations--I have to remember that all this theorizing, all this discussion is about *people.* In some sense, I stumbled over my conversation with my homeless friend because I cast the encounter in terms of roles. It was Michael the homeless man vs. Christina the child of privilege, instead of person to person. In my talk with the neighbor, it was old vs. young, not woman-to-woman.
Relating to people as people is a fuzzy, fuzzy thing. I can only think of it as an exercise in humility, that virtue that is notoriously tricky to define and acquire--as soon as you realize you're humble, you're not humble any more, because humility, at heart, is self-forgetting (NOT self-degradation, it should be noted). How does one become humble? I'm going to steal the punchline from President Wilson's talk at the first chapel service here. He cited someone (I think Thomas Merton), whose definition for humility was something like this: the proper posture of standing before God as his creature, a sinner and a saint. That's the starting point.

Significant encounters, part 2

Then there was the woman I encountered in the alley as I was coming back for a run. We were chatting and in the course of the conversation, she asked if I had heard about the girl who was recently murdered in Surrey. I had, but she filled in the details and then said that she hoped they caught the perpetrator and sentenced him to death. She continued to say that she thought all people who committed serious crimes like that should just be taken care of--because there's no changing them and they shouldn't be allowed to be set loose in society. I must have looked slightly shocked, because she followed that up with, as a religious person, what did I think of that?
Cautiously, I said that I would like to believe that it's possible for anyone to change and that even if it doesn't happen very often, that's not something we should take away from people. And while I agree that those who are dangerous to their society should be removed from it, I'm not sure that means they need to be killed.
She looked at me pityingly. "You're young. You're idealistic. I used to be that way."

And I didn't know what to say. Of course, afterward I remembered the many "smart" things I could have said: that jails are not crowded because of murderers and rapists, but because of injustice, misfortune and a whole set of complex causes; that no justice system is perfect and would she want her grandchildren wrongly convicted and then lethally injected?; that I know a whole lot of "old people" who still held their youthful idealism.
But in the moment, I had no words, for two reasons. First, as someone who has been fortunate to experience very little prejudice (I feel like I've managed to miss a lot of the discrimination and harassment that can come with being a woman), it was jolting to be judged by, of all things, my age. I was no longer a person; I was a demographic. I felt utterly objectified.
Secondly, I was profoundly saddened because this is what the world looks like to someone who has no God. As a Christian, I can affirm that while people are born in sin, we are also made in the image of God--even murderers. I can affirm that I too am someone who deserves to be judged--and thank God I've never been in a place to be judged by the law. And most importantly, I can affirm that even as the world is a crazy, broken, confused place, there is still hope. I don't think I have idealism--I have hope.

Significant encounters

or, three people I've met who have made me think. In the interest of making these thoughts slightly less overwhelming, I'm going to break this post into three separate posts, one for each person.

At a (very crowded) informational lunch about small Bible study groups, a rather scruffy looking man asked if he could join us at a table. From his clothing, and the fact that he was carrying a weather-beaten resuable shopping bag, I gathered that he was probably homeless. He loaded up his plate with food and I, again, guessed that this would probably be the most significant meal of his day.
He asked what the lunch was for and I explained about small groups. He looked at the list and asked if he would be welcome at them. I mumbled something vaguely affirmative. Then he said to me, "They say that I could come, but they don't mean that. I wouldn't belong there. I don't have a place in the world; I wouldn't belong there."

In a perfect world, this is when I would have confidently proclaimed the welcome of all people into God's family; in real time, I was speechless. Would he be welcome? Even if a group welcomed him, would he even able to feel welcomed, this person who has no place? How can we give a place to people who have no place? (These are questions very close to home for someone who, when asked where she's from, has no one place.)
I realized later that I didn't know what to say, because I was so worried about me I was thinking about what *I* could say or do that would be right, trying to figure out how *I* could "fix" the situation. I feel foolish now, because if I learned anything at all last year, it was that service is not about "me". It's about "you" and then "us."
I'm glad I had this conversation, to hammer home that even when I'm not working with people on the margins every day, I'm still responsible for this outward orientation, this attitude of humble service.

being Canadian

So I have now been in Canada for over two weeks. I could regale you with a list of "things that are different in the Canada than in the US" but such lists are usually fairly boring, so really, all you need to know is that cheese is REALLY expensive here. Or at least it feels very expensive for something that is so delicious and useful. Ah well, I suppose living abroad involves such sacrifices. I'll manage somehow. :)
In any case, Vancouver more than makes up for its other minor flaws by giving me a marvelous public transportation system. I'm living on two useful bus lines (one to UBC, one to downtown via Kitsilano) and have come to realize that waiting for more than 10 minutes is something to be complained about. After living in DC, land of the wayward bus, this is nothing short of a miracle. Sorry DC, you lose on this one.

I've spent most of this week going to new student orientation. All of the presenters kept apologizing for the length of orientation and the amount of information being thrown at us, but after LVC orientation last year (which was longer in terms of both days and hours per day), I thought it wasn't so bad. In fact, I thought orientation was well planned and executed. Almost all of the talks and presentations were helpful (even necessary!) and the days were nicely paced in terms of information and student attention spans.
For me, hearing again about Regent's vision, short interviews with several profs, and meeting other students really helped me mentally "move in" to Vancouver, to Regent and to the work that I'll be doing next year. I'm looking forward to the beginning of classes on Monday. That's when the real work will begin.

One of the presentations on our last day of orientation was the most perfect "Canada in a nutshell" that I've ever heard. Granted, I have no basis for comparison, this being the only lecture I've ever heard about Canada, but it was brilliant. Prof. Stackhouse introduced Canada by saying that the best way to get a first grasp of Canada is to understand its geography (as opposed to say, its history or culture).
I think Canada and I have that in common. I have often felt that the best way to describe myself (and my history) is in terms of locations and where I have been geographically. I have lots of interests, experiences, and traits. But who I AM, is maybe someone who's been a little bit of everywhere and found a home and a family. I hope that happens here too.

Christina has officially entered Canada!

- checked bags at optimal weight of 45 pounds?
- three carry-ons successfully carried on?
- study permit acquired?
- canadian money exchanged?
- taxi ride taken to new house?
- new landlords met?
- groceries procured?
- dinner eaten?
- family contacted?
- blog updated?
Mission(s) accomplished! For today at least.

I am in Vancouver and it is *beautiful.* It's so green--there are so many trees--and it's just generally gorgeous. There are mountains! My taxi ride was through pretty neighborhood after pretty neighborhood and my new place is built on a ridge with an incredible view of downtown. I've seen lots of bikers and the city seems very bike friendly (yay!). The local Safeway is a ten minute walk and my school bus stop is a mere five. My landlords have been lovely and hospitable.
I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ah, that's right, it rains here. And as usual I've left behind lots of people and places I love. I guess you can't have your cake and eat it too, even if you're not a gluten-free eater.

Anyway, tomorrow's projects are as follows:
- public transportation
- finances
- unpacking
The fun never stops! Stay tuned for the next episode of "Christina experiments with being Canadian."

the simple (and well considered) life

This always happens when I come home--I think I have all this time to relax and organize my life and spend time with my family. Then all of a sudden I have three days left and a whole mess of things to do.
Case in point: dealing with my clothes. Gathering all my clothes in one place for the first time since I left for college, I have reached the following conclusion: I have too many clothes. Corollary: clothes are a pain. I am thankful that I have enough clothes to be adequately (sometimes even attractively!) clothed, but I start to wonder when eight pairs of shoes is my bare minimum to be prepared for all wardrobe (and weather) eventualities. I'm inclined to believe monasticism had it right--a vow of poverty is the best way to reduce both hassle and the burden of possessions. Fashion, packing, and matching shoes become a non-issue when you're wearing the same thing every day.
I like to think that it's my year of LVC-induced "simple living" that's bringing about this change of attitude towards my possessions, but it's more likely that I'm just tired of carting my life around in a suitcase. 100+ pounds of luggage gets old after awhile.

Along similar "life value" lines, I stumbled across this article about twenty-somethings on facebook and it made me think. I fit nearly all the descriptions of this new "emergent adult" ("un­tethered to romantic partners or to permanent homes...avoiding commitments...forestalling the beginning of adult life." Check, check and check!) and it's kind of interesting to be a subject of sociological interest. I agree with the psychological nitpickers at the end of the article: I don't think emergent adulthood is a required step of psychological maturation; I'd say it's simply a cultural phenonmenon resulting from the optimism of the Millenial generation, enabled by the middle-class privilege retained from the baby boomer generation. That said, it's real and (I think) worth studying. I'd be interested to know what the experts, and eventually history, decide--is this emergent adulthood good or bad? Is it good to be financially independent? Undoubtedly. Is it good to do good in the world and seek a life goal, if that opportunity is available to you? I think so. The million dollar question: are the two mutually exclusive? As one stuck in it I'm not sure I'm the best one to judge. I certainly have gone the route of "seeking" instead of "growing up" per se, but I hope that doesn't mean it's not possible to do both.
It is a little bit of a blow to realize that in my apparently unorthodox life path, I am actually behaving like a predictable young adult of my time. So much for being unique and thinking out of the box. I guess it's okay to be on the gospel train if you're bound for glory.

to the single ladies!

Dear Bon House girls,
We've all talked about this before, but I love and cherish you all. I'm going to miss you, as individuals and as a collective.
Thanks for the year.
Love,
Christina

graduate school?

This year of LVC has been like a graduate course in "real life." I haven't missed college this year because my mind has been so engaged with all the new, real-life stuff that I've been learning about through my work, my housemates and living in DC. At our house retreat last weekend, Nora shared something she'd written for her school's alumni network--alums were invited to post mock-courses that described what they were living and learning in their time after college. Aha! I said. It's not just me. So this is my list of "courses" that I have taken this year (with thanks to Nora for originating GWS/MUS 287).

EDUC 350: Advanced Topics in Adult Education (no prerequisites)
RMCS 230: Washington Natives: the story of Washington D.C.'s black community
MATH 005: Elementary School Math for Former Math Majors
ENGL 200: Basic Grammar and Usage for Writers of GED Essays
ECON 215: Simplicity and Sustainability in Collective and Personal Budgeting
GWS/MUS 287: All the Single Ladies: Female Empowerment through Communal Living, Pop Music, and Learning to Like People Different from You Even Though They May Drive You Crazy
PE 207: Urban Biking
HEALTH 115: Cooking for Food Allergies and Picky Eaters
EVS 010: Composting for Dummies

an embarrassment of riches

Blessings of the weekend: having Friday off, having a van, having a van with 7 seats/seatbelts, having a van with tons of storage space (even enough for Alli's bike), having a van with a not-crappy engine, having a van with a/c, stopping at McDonald's on the way out of the city, listening to 94.7 Fresh FM, getting to Callie's family's farm in Palmyra (our destination), lounging in the house a/c, petting the house cat, swimming in the pool, making Emily swim, making gaga faces at Callie's niece Lucy, hot-tubbing, watching a lot of disney movies and then doing feminist critiques of the heroines, playing Beatles rock band, reading books, running around on the ATV, hiking, writing, eating ice cream, listening to our "bon house music mix" on grooveshark, drinking wine and cocktails, having dinner together, having "intimate" conversations, complimenting each other, sleeping, doing Buddhist chant, giving/receiving massages...coming back to a city where we have jobs (at least for another week and a half), a house and hopes/dreams for the future.
For people who only make the equivalent of 4.86/hour, I'd say our lives are pretty good

wendell berry - questionnaire

I have started reading Wendell Berry. This poem is from the book I randomly checked out from the library, entitled Leavings.

"Questionnaire"

1. How much poison are you willing
   to eat for the success of the free
   market and global trade? Please
   name your preferred poisons.



2. For the sake of goodness, how much
   evil are you willing to do?
   Fill in the following blanks
   with the names of your favorite
   evils and acts of hatred.



3. What sacrifices are you prepared
   to make for culture and civilization?
   Please list the monuments, shrines,
   and works of art you would
   most willingly destroy.



4. In the name of patriotism and
   the flag, how much of our beloved
   land are you willing to desecrated?
   List in the following spaces
   the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
   you could most readily do without.



5. State briefly the ideas, ideals or hopes,
   the energy sources, the kinds of security,
   for which you would kill a child.
   Name, please, the children whom
   you would be willing to kill.

much needed laughs

Email sent round at work today:

"Thank you for a great first day. You deserve a chuckle, particularly our math and science folk."

This was exactly what I needed to keep me going today. The first one is horrible, yet somehow funny. The last one KILLS me. Oh math.

a hospital kaleidoscope

In LVC we throw around the word "community" a lot but it can be hard to know what that really means. As cheesy at it sounds, this week I got to see community in action.
The setting? One of my housemates was in the hospital. The hospital was far away. We were all busy with work. It would have been easy to just carry on with our lives...but that didn't happen. Everyone pulled together and did what it took to make sure that we made it out to visit--whether that meant missing work or taking two buses back to the house at eleven at night. I was waiting for the bus with two of my housemates after a hospital visit and realized that (at least for a little while) my priorities had become community-first, self-second. For someone who lives very much in her own head, this was an incredible thought. And considering we've only known each other for nine months, I can only marvel at a) my housemates (who are quality people) and b) how we are slowly becoming greater than the sum of our parts.
That realization also made me see how far I have to go. It took some prodding to work up the energy to make the trek to the hospital. I also realized that community-focus and my compassionate attention shouldn't just be a hospital thing. A person zoning out in the living room may need my company just as much as my physically isolated housemate in the hospital.
Our hospital visits also hammered home another lesson that I've been learning this year: the more narrow your "problem" or interest, the wider your world. For example, my job is pretty specific--I teach adults. However, education with adults, especially when centered around attaining a high school credential, becomes a swirl of other issues including parenting, relationships, fair housing, just wages, employment, child care, and much more. In the same way, going to the hospital became much more than one housemate being sick. It made me realize (not for the first time) that there are very few hospitals actually IN the District, especially in the center of the city. Those hospitals that are in the city are generally dismissed as inferior. My housemates and I thought that our hour-plus commute to Sibley was arduous--but for some people, that's how long it takes to get to school/work every day. We spent three days with a 'second job' of hospital visits, but some people spend years visiting their loved ones who are sick. And what happens when concerned family members don't have the privilege of taking two buses to see their loved ones? Or the luxury of taking off work?

All in all, I come away from this week feeling undeservedly fortunate. I think that's what they call blessing.

Really good books I have read this year, novels and non-fiction edition.

So I was trying to read more books this year. It has kind of been happening. I've noticed that while I still read fantasy, young-adult and children's literature when I want a quick book fix, some of the most satisfying things I've read this year are what I consider "grown-up" novels and non-fiction.

- Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell
I wouldn't call Outliers brilliant non-fiction writing but Malcolm Gladwell is a journalist by trade, so it's interesting and easy to read. Outliers is about success and how it happens. Gladwell's main thesis challenges the idea of a meritocracy, instead claiming that success is a combination of being in the right place in the right time and working hard. It's a thought-provoking read, and seemed especially apt during this LVC year because we're all about dissecting privilege and discovering the root causes of things like poverty and success.
I've also read Blink, by the same author and it has confirmed my suspicion that his books are all similar in tone and content. I'd say you'd only need to read one to really enjoy. Because Outliers is about success, I found it more interesting than Blink. However, if you're more into decision-making and psychology, Blink might be the better recommendation.

- Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World, Tracy Kidder
Everyone should read this book, for a variety of reasons. For me, I learned more about Haiti, public health and grassroots change through this book than any college class could teach in the same amount of time and pages. In addition, simply reading about the issues, I started to care about world health and the situation in Haiti (this was before the earthquake), which was a personal change for me. But most importantly, Mountains Beyond Mountains showed me both the variety and complexity of problems facing the world (tuberculosis in Haiti and Chile, who knew?) but also the change that can occur when one person bends their will to a very specific task. An enlightening and empowering read.

- Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
I could not tell you plot details of this novel or exactly why I remember it as being so good. But it was. It's a slightly dark, cob-webby kind of novel, taking its cue from its namesake--a book named "Shadow of the Wind" within the story. (At work today I learned that there's a word for titles-related-to-contents-of-book--eponymous. But I still don't know enough about the word to use it casually in writing. /tangent) The story is a heady rush through the back streets of Spain, hidden libraries and ghostly mansions; my highest praise is that it evokes my memories of Spain, only with a fantastic magical lens, and it is glorious.

- The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
I'm tempted to compare this to Shadow of the Wind because a) it is not an American novel in style, setting or author, b) I read it really quickly and c) it has the same atmospheric, evocative quality of Shadow of the Wind, firmly established in a place as part of the story.
However, I read The God of Small Things more recently, so I can also say that Arundhati Roy is a master storyteller, cleverly revealing the plot in bits and pieces as she simultaneously paints a portrait of a family and a place. The language and imagery is fantastic, perfectly suited to the Indian setting.

- Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky
It took me at least two months to finish this book, mostly because Dostoevksy is all-too-brilliant at putting the reader inside the mind of an insane man and I couldn't read more than a couple of chapters without needing to rest my head. I also needed to remind myself that one does not read Dostoevsky novels for plot--they're all about character and ideas. Once I'd spent a couple of weeks slogging through those two parts of the Russian-novel-reading training regime, I breezed through the end in a week or so.
Dostoevsky, how do I love/hate thee? Let me count the ways. I'm pretty sure I would never read him if he wasn't considered a "classic" author. I also probably wouldn't get as much out of his novels if I wasn't deliberately looking for depth. But because it *is* Dostoevsky and I *am* looking for profundity, I thought Crime and Punishment was brilliant. His characters are incredibly real. You may have to wade through a swamp of words to get there, but Raskolnikov is REAL, from head to toe, crazy actions and crazy thoughts. Dostoevsky also deals with some heavy stuff in Crime and Punishment--you know, murder, alcoholism, prostitution, rape, the usual--and because the characters are so real, I was completely in sympathy with them. Then there's the actual political and religious ideas that Dostoevsky plugs into the mouths of his characters--questions of utility, order, and forgiveness. I'll need to read Crime and Punishment again to get a handle on what he was trying to say there.

New computer!

Here she is, my new laptop!
I think her name is Penelope. My next computer can be Ulysses. :D