piccadilly kim

My personally coined word for phrases that are obvious. For example:

--rambunctious toddler
--sleepy student
--cold winter
--loving mother
--starving artist

Anyone got some more?

There's certain things you're supposed to like. Things everybody likes, like kittens and babies. Things that reveal some deeper-than-usual depravity if you don't like them. Here's my confessions:

--Dark chocolate. Why can't it just be milkier?

--Walks. They're pointless! I have so many better things to do with my time than take a circular stroll!

--Poetry. If you don't understand it, why bother?

--Candlelight, dim light, natural light. I blame my mother. For years I'd read and she'd always turn on the brightest lights she could find to save my eyes. I'm wearing contacts now, so think where I'd be if she hadn't!

--The Lord of the Rings. It's juust sooo loooooooooooooooooong.

--Gender-neutral pronouns. Just a pain. Really, I don't care if you keep it all "he." That "he or she" thing is just way too clunky and the grammarian in me balks at "they" for the singular. I'm a girl, so surely I can say this?

--Oxford commas. That's what the AND is for!--Eating late. I know, I know, it's so classy. But I'm hungry at 5 pm, why can't we eat then and digest the night away??

--Lamb. Tastes bad.

--Guitars. They're SO country-western.

--Musical boys. Well, it's not so much that I dislike them as I just hope they don't waste their talent on me. There's so many maudlin girls who'd go so ga-ga for them, I'm sure we'd all be much happier if the beat boys spent their energy on them and left the tone deaf ones for me.

--Disney World. All you do is walk around and LOOK at the stuff! Where's the action!?

--Switzerland. How can you dislike something neutral? Especially something neutral you've never even been to? I don't know. It's just so ... landlocked. It reminds me of Kansas, another very neutral place I've never been to.

--The Grand Canyon. YAWN. Show me the surf!!

And then there's things things that I don't like, but feel entirely justified in. They include:

--Knitting.

--Cadillacs.

--Cheese.

On the flip side, there's also a few things I like that I'm evidently not supposed to ...

--Air conditioning. I know nature's wonderful, but there's something to be said for technological advancement. 71 is an awfully nice temperature to watch scorchers and snowstorms from.

--Split ends. Love them! Bet you can't beat seven on one hair!

--SUVs. Not any SUV, but mine. Baby Blazer is adorable, even if she is mighty thirsty. But she can't help that, we've all got to hydrate, haven't we?

--New Jersey. It's my beach, and don't you dare say anything against it!!

--McDonalds. Not saying I go, mind you, just that I'm not adverse to the taste once every couple of years. Especially chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce.

i had a poem the other night
i wonder where it's gone
i guess it didn't want to stay
and be my muses' pawn

(originally from fall 2006)

1. Procrastinate buying the book as long as possible. Look for it at the Student Senate sale, check out all the standard online options, and go through roommates’ shelves. The edition really doesn’t matter much. If you have it by the second week of class, consider yourself an overachiever.

2. Take a nap. You’ll need a lot of energy before you can possibly begin reading.

3. Copyedit as you go. Take particular glee in adding commas, correcting the omnipresent its/it’s dilemma, and generally editing for brevity and clarity with a bright red pen.

4. Count how many pages you have to go. Keep a running countdown at the top of every page.

5. Take awhile to look at all the pictures. Add moustaches.

6. Since your book is presumably used, read all the non-scientific notes written by previous owners. Using this material, draft a quick character sketch of a particular individual.

7. Attempt reading the paragraphs again.

8. If you find yourself lost in a vast sea of dry material, ditch the book and find a "study" partner of the opposite sex. Why read when you can conduct your own hands-on experiments?

9. Return to the book. Take several deep breaths.

10. Realize the futility of this procedure and spend your time more effectively: call a fellow English major and complain vehemently in eloquent words the authors of your text could only dream of knowing.

11. Open the book one more time. Prop eyes open with thumb and forefinger.

12. Give up. Nobody really reads those books anyway.

(originally from spring 2004;
adapted from the godspell song;
for all those who remember the campaign to save the pudding)

When wilt thou save the pudding?
Oh ye of Oak Hill, take
Not fish and chips, but custard,
Not stew and rice, but cake!

(originally from december 2005;
adapted from luke 2:1-20 and matthew 2:1-12)

"Hear ye, oh hear ye, oh ye, hear, hear, hear,"
called Caesar Augustus to folk everywhere
"The time is coming, it’s coming so fast,
When you must to the town of your fathers at last
Return double-quick, oh so quick you must go,
Even if on the way you get stuck in the snow!"
"Oh no," thought Joseph, "this is not good!
Not good, oh not good, oh so very not good!
For Mary, my pregnant wife-soon-to-be,
Is expecting a baby – it’s a sure guarantee! –
And this baby will come very soon, don’t you see?"
Poor Joseph, poor Joseph, oh what could he do?
For Caesar was the sort of man – well, one who
Commanded respect wherever he went,
Even if his wishes left one quite bent
Out of shape, or in a rough way;
His heart was a size or two small, you might say.

But Joseph, he picked up, he picked up and went
To the town Bethlehem, where he had been sent
By this royal decree
With Mary, his pregnant wife-soon-to-be.
But when they arrived – oh but when they arrived! –
They found, oh so sadly, that they’d been denied
Any place they could stay – oh how glum, glum, glum, glum,
They did feel – for where on this earth could their new baby come?
But then at last – at so very long last –
They came to a stable, and sat down and crashed.

And then came the Baby, the Jesus, the Christ
Who arrived on this earth to bring us new life.

Then the angels, they shouted, they sang and they cheered,
For they were so joyful that He had appeared
Among humankind and they went to proclaim
This event oh so gladsome for the sick and the lame
And the troubled and sad and the hurt and the weary –
Their message was great and particularly cheery.
To some shepherds they came and told them the news
(which applied to the Gentiles and to the Jews!):
"A Savior has come – now go to him quick! –
In a manger you’ll find him, bundled up plenty thick!"
So off to seek him, the shepherds, they went,
As from heavenly messengers they had been sent.
And they came and they saw Him, these shepherds, they did
Then passed on the news on to many a man, lady and kid.

But that was not all, oh, no, not quite yet!
For the wise men – the Magi – we still have not met.
These men saw a star in the east late one night
(And it was very, especially bright)
So they came to find the One it foretold
And traversed to Bethlehem, a town ancient and old.
There they met with King Herod and ventured to ask
If he could assist in their difficult task
Of finding the Christ, the One Who they knew
Had been promised to come (see Micah five-two).
Now Herod was jealous of the new baby King
But told the Magi: "His praise must I sing!
So tell me exactly where he can be found,
That I may worship on His so-sacred ground."
But off went the Magi, off in great haste,
For they had no minutes of time more to waste.
And they followed the star this last step of the way
Where it stopped at the place where Jesus, He lay.
And they fell down and worshipped Him right where they were,
Then gave Him fine gifts of gold, incense and myrrh.
When finally they left to go back to their lands,
They purposely avoided Herod’s terrible hands –
For a dream had warned them that he was no dear
And the thought of seeing him filled them with fear.

Now that is the story, of Jesus, the Christ.
He came to this earth, and brought us new life.

(originally from summer 2006)

If I ran the circus, if I ran the zoo
I’d meet a Williamson or two.
The first would be Frank, oh Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank
With a build oh so tall (but not quite so lank –
y as once that he was) when he met the so-swanky
Gal at the office (where she was prepared with a soft, ironed hanky –
That came in quite useful for her, might I add, to dry off her hands
When she got them all brown in the hot ocean sands)
Frank, though, he never needed the hanky,
Even when he ate apples (you know the story).

And so they got married, the Esther and Frank
The Frank and the Esther, they festered and grew
And before you knew it – Thing One and Thing Two!
And they grew and they grew and they grew, grew, grew, grew
And suddenly there was a whole slew
Of Williamson children, cute little things who
Always behaved, oh always, always
(Just ask the in-laws to sing their praise-
s, you’ll see – or maybe you won’t)
Moving on rather quickly now
(oh look at the time!)
We’ll jump to grandchildren
And continue the rhyme
In the City of Ocean, the house by the sea
Where to men oh please let me a friend always be.

And a Frank, it was, a-bobbing,
A-bobbing out in the blue.
And Es began to count:
One Frank, another?, two –?
One Frank, two Frank, red Frank, blue Frank
Time to go inside.
(But shower first, be good and sure to get that sand out of your hide!)

And to think that I saw him on 55th Street
With the five hundred curlers of Grandmother Cubbins,
All pink in her hair, and her housedress on, too.
Take a picture, quick, somebody,
(then, display at the fair!)

It’s time for the dinner, it’s time now to sup –
Come on now, and hurry (but no one throw up!)
Now onto dessert, oh, do cut the pie:
Just a sliver of this and a sliver of that
And a dozen more slivers won’t make anyone fat!

But now, dear parents, grand and alike,
I will say this not twice, not treble or thrice,
(For you are all smart, there’s not one single dunce –
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha) – now hang on to your seats,
‘cause you’re only old once!