Have you ever wanted to open a door and end up in Narnia? Or be summoned into some magical realm by a fantastic mistake? This feeling is really an emotion, and for children especially, it is a primal one. Perhaps adulthood is just finally getting numb to it, which is probably akin to overcoming a broken heart. If so, I’ll never grow up. I’ve found Wayfinder.

When I first met Peaches and Jacob, I was insanely jealous of their experiences at Wayfinder. They lived in magical realms as angels and demons and magical schoolchildren, fought with swords and wove the spells of their stories over me. After a while I got used to the idea of live-action roleplaying — after all, it was not much different from the kinds I did. But somehow I never saw myself being a part of it all.

Until Winter Game 2007. It was insanely awesome.

The camp is much like summer camp, with bunks and dining-hall food and organized activities, except that the activities are things like improv games and sword-fighting workshops. And puppy piles, because the people at Wayfinder form the most creative and loving I have ever come across. I could see the strength of their community in the fact that they embraced even the most socially dysfunctional ones with welcoming arms.

With a limited time frame (only one full day), most of the organized time was aimed at preparing for the big Thursday night game. It was set in a world where the stars are a field of battle for angels, and when the stars fall to earth they create nodes of magical power. Everything took place in and around a hospital that specialized in curing supernatural ailments. I cannot relate everything that happened, but I will try to sketch the important story arc of my own character.

I was Pye Quickfingers, a young thief who stole a cursed amulet that remained stuck around her neck, making her permanently invisible. The only one who could see me was the stuttering intern, Tyr, as played by Peaches. My doctor, Rev. Worthy, mainly tried to save my immortal soul, but succeeded only in ticking me off. To give him credit, he did bring in the angel Serafina, who suggested my life was being guided by the God of Stories, and perhaps I was on a Hero’s Journey. For the most part it was Tyr who was nice to me, sneaking me out for fresh air and keeping me informed of goings-on. The sphinx who guarded the hospital then gave him the cryptic riddle that he should try looking at me “with something other than his eyes.”

Things quickly got more exciting, however, as the Plague Goddess, her lover the Locust God, and their accompanying demons tried to steal the Chalice. This was a powerful relic possessed by the hospital that healed by removing everything impure — including any “bad” memories or personality traits, making its effects uncertain. The medical staff, under the threat of imminent invasion, came to the decision to bring the gods the Chalice in the hope that being wholly evil, they would be destroyed instead of healed.

Several patients fled the hospital, and though I could have joined their retreat easily enough (being invisible and all), I realized that I could not leave Tyr so easily. When the doctors left to confront the gods and plague demons, he used a feather to teleport to the scene of the action. It was chaotic and confusing — I tried hitting a Plague on the back of the head with the pummel of my sword, but this just amused him. Fortunately the Chalice plan worked, destroying the Locust God, and the hospital had enough strength on its side to take out the remaining demons one by one. Finally, the Plague Goddess was bound inside a book by a savant child tying together the life-line of an angel and the mind of an oracle.

But Pye had not yet completed her journey. As Tyr and I returned to the hospital through the back, Tyr glanced at me shyly, kissed me hastily on the lips, and ran inside, leaving me dazed and smiling on the steps. Had Pye thought to do so in that moment, the amulet would have easily slid off her neck.

And so I fell in love all over again.

My wisdom teeth — they are gone! Friday I got them out, in an hour-long surgery, and I spent the afternoon shaking off the drug-induced sleepiness and strapping packs of frozen peas to my face. Soon enough I felt fine, except for a weird stiffness in the back of my jaw, and the most discomfort I experienced over the next few days was insomnia caused by an ill-advised dose narcotics and the envy of watching everyone around me munch on delicious solid foods. I had the impression that I would be completely out of action for several days — I really don’t know what all the fuss was about.

Here is the dialogue I had via my computer in the minutes I couldn’t talk immediately following the procedure:

I actually feel fine, just a bit groggy. The anethestic was very weird — I fell asleep from the inside out, like I couldn’t move me muscles. And I didn’t feel fully asleep, so now it’s very off, like I just woke up from a nap I never was fully out for. I almost feel like running. My fingers are still a bit slow. I want to shake my head to get it out.

They were laughing at me, and asked about my heart rate. And if I ran. And were laughing at me. It was odd, listening to my heart rate slow down. (Darn spelling. I blame the keyboard and my less-than perfect fine motor control.)

[...]

Trying to clear my head. It’s like waking up in the middle of the night.

So when I was going under, it was odd. My body relaxed first, but my eyes wandered around and a small part of my mind was still awake. Trapped. I did not panic, I just wanted to fall asleep, but the doctors asking questions.

Will I remember this? It would be weird if didn’t.

[...]

[Now I slip into incoherence.]

Badly? It’s the darn juice-filled sticky keyboard. The words or just the dyslexia? Or is it actually stupid? What’s bad about it?

The days of break have been alternating between intense doses of family socializing and lazy hours wiled away reading books (My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell) and watching movies (Once). It’s been a wonderfully enjoyable holiday, even laying to rest my apprehension about bringing Peaches home. With no family feuds or drug-induced hazes, plus a healthy dose of holiday cookies and fancy pears, who could ask for more?

Yesterday Jim Shipton wondered if I was still interested in his Technology Reviews since I moving on to the softer sciences and arts. Of course I was interested! Did he really have to ask? That is the wonderful thing about industrial design: it combines art and technology. My dad commented that this made sense, really, since I have always been passionate about both subjects — but especially about the design of things we interact with every day. The cooking part, however, he thought came out of the blue. Yet it did not. Food is an integral part of life, just like the spaces we live in and the tools we use. I choose to pay careful attention to the ways in which I choose, prepare, and consume food. It seems terribly domestic, but there’s a geekery (and an art!) applicable to food and health just as there is to anything else. Peaches has managed to call me both a “composition nerd” and a “food nerd” in the past week — and you know what? I’m proud to be both!

Finals are over… let the vacationing begin. Most of my gifts have been taken care of, my Christmas cards have been printed, there are cookies in the oven, and Peaches is taking me out to breakfast as soon as I wake him. It is cold and crisp outside, a nice reprieve from the constant rain. It even almost looks like snow.

Over the weekend I saw The Golden Compass. It was gorgeous — not half bad — but my standards are amazingly high. I expect stories to inspire me, no matter what the production value, and this movie just didn’t cut it (though the books did). Avatar, on the other hand, threatened to jump the shark during the first half of Book 2, but returned full force as soon as I had given up on it. I’m still being impressed, episode after episode, now that I’m on Book 3. However, since Avatar isn’t in theaters, The Golden Compass is certainly not a bad way to spend an evening out on the town.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Peaches loves gingerale, especially with cranberry juice, so I decided to try making it myself. This recipe gets his seal of approval — it tastes great, gingery and lightly carbonated.

Ingredients:

• 3/4 tablespoons grated fresh ginger root
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/8 teaspoon active dry yeast
• Juice of half a lemon
• water

Directions:

1. Pour ginger, sugar, yeast, and lemon juice into an empty 1-liter container, and fill the rest with water.

2. Screw on the cap on as tightly as possible. Shake the bottle well, and leave at room temperature for two days.

3. Refrigerate. To serve, pour through a tea strainer.

(Adapted from Allrecipes)

Ingredients:

• 1 (29 ounce) can pumpkin puree, approx. 3 1/2 cups
• 3/4 cup apple juice
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• Juice of half a lemon

Directions:

1. Combine pumpkin, apple juice, spices, and sugar in a large saucepan; stir well. Bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer for 30 minutes or until thickened. Stir frequently. Adjust spices to taste. Stir in lemon juice, or more to taste.
2. Once cool, pumpkin butter can be kept in an airtight container in the fridge.

(Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup blackstrap molasses
• 1/4 cup honey
• 1 cup applesauce
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 1 tsp ground ginger
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1 3/4 cup whole wheat flour

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Combine molasses, honey, and applesauce in a large bowl.

3. Combine dry ingredients separately and stir into the liquid. If the batter seems very dry, add a little more applesauce or a little water.

4. Bake in a nonstick or greased 8 x 8 inch baking pan for 30 - 45 minutes.

(Adapted from Recipes for Natural Health)

Givings gifts is hard. The commercial infrastructure seems set up for spending more than $50 per person, even and especially if you’re buying things homemade or eco-friendly. As much as I want to escape Christmas materialism, my non-materialistic ideas aren’t always feasible. Donating to a good cause, for example, seems weak when the contribution is only a dozen or so dollars, and then there’s nothing tangible to wrap up and hand over. Such a gift would still leave me feeling empty-handed.

I plan to make a large number of gifts myself, but I’m afraid most of these will be have to be mass-produced just to free me up to focus on a few special items for a few people on my list — and I mean no offense by doing this, though I feel a tad guilty not being able to think of “that special something” for everyone. The problem is that I still can’t think of special somethings for many on my short list, either.

There is stress in not giving, and stress in giving, and the only way to do away with this Christmas stress is to do away with gift-giving altogether — a plan that will never work, of course, because I’ll never get all my family and friends on board, and I’ll be left feeling a bit selfish every time someone else goes out of their way to be generous. Perhaps the best solution is to bake vast numbers of cookies to pour on people’s heads with holiday cheer and warm thanks.

Or maybe I’ll pile on Satsumas instead, if Peaches doesn’t eat them all first. We’ve already gone through a five-pound box of them in less than a week, bought at one of my favorite places to shop: the People’s Food Co-Op. It’s a friendly, inviting place with Seussian architecture and piles of fresh produce. It feels so wholesome just to walk inside! Being local and organic, things tend to be more expensive, but it’s worth it when you’re saving the world (via Swiss Miss). Heck, if more people I knew only lived in Portland, store credit would make an excellent Christmas gift.

Doom. My Qual, that wonderful horrible thing, is over at last, but it will be a long time before I stop thinking about fish and all those stupid E’s. Just… don’t ask. I have been waiting for over two years to take the Junior qualifying exam, an intense test to see if you’re good enough for the department you want to major in. Frankly, I was looking forward to the Linguistics Qual, which consists of a text in some unknown language that you have to say as much as you can about. It sounded like fun. It’s why I wanted to be a linguistics major.

After a day of staring at the thing, I had a small breakdown. Instead of a complex jigsaw puzzle with things slowly but surely falling into place, it was something from Myst — something with no mental footholds, no leads, and no hope. It promised only to be a showcase of my incompetency.

I suppose it’s not too late to fail, but after a bit of crying, running, and sleep, I found my spirits raised and the patterns in the text easier to spot. Things progressed steadily from there — I even finished early! Technically it’s not due until tomorrow afternoon, but I can never bring myself to look things over that “one last time.” Now I just have to worry about my paper on Algonquian puns and wait for judgement on my linguistic competence.

One thing that helped pull me through the dark times last week was Avatar: The Last Airbender. I honestly don’t know how this show evaded me for so long, but let me say now, it is brilliant! The animation is fluid, the characters are complex, the fight scenes are purely awesome, and the world is imbued with a casual creativity that impresses me every single episode. Heck, I’m geeking out just thinking about it. Time for season two!