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So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.


The Profile


Zanzibar
Age. 39
Gender. Female
Ethnicity. that of my father and his father before him
Location Altadena, CA
School. Other
» More info.
The World









The Link To Zanzibar's Past
This is my page in the beloved art community that my sister got me into:

Samarinda

Extra points for people who know what Samarinda is.
The Phases of the Moon Module
CURRENT MOON
Croc Hunter/Combat Wombat
My hero(s)
Only My Favorite Baseball Player EVER


Aw, Larry Walker, how I loved thee.
The Schedule
M: Science and Exploration
T: Cook a nice dinner
W: PARKOUR!
Th: Parties, movies, dinners
F: Picnics, the Louvre
S: Read books, go for walks, PARKOUR
Su: Philosophy, Religion
The Reading List
This list starts Summer 2006
A Crocodile on the Sandbank
Looking Backwards
Wild Swans
Exodus
1984
Tales of the Alhambra (in progress)
Dark Lord of Derkholm
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The Lost Years of Merlin
Harry Potter a l'ecole des sorciers (in progress)
Atlas Shrugged (in progress)
Uglies
Pretties
Specials
A Long Way Gone (story of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone- met the author! w00t!)
The Eye of the World: Book One of the Wheel of Time
From Magma to Tephra (in progress)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Harry Potter 7
The No. 1 Lady's Detective Agency
Introduction to Planetary Volcanism
A Child Called "It"
Pompeii
Is Multi-Culturalism Bad for Women?
Americans in Southeast Asia: Roots of Commitment (in progress)
What's So Great About Christianity?
Aeolian Geomorphology
Aeolian Dust and Dust Deposits
The City of Ember
The People of Sparks
Cube Route
When I was in Cuba, I was a German Shepard
Bound
The Golden Compass
Clan of the Cave Bear
The 9/11 Commission Report (2nd time through, graphic novel format this time, ip)
The Incredible Shrinking Man
Twilight
Eclipse
New Moon
Breaking Dawn
Armageddon's Children
The Elves of Cintra
The Gypsy Morph
Animorphs #23: The Pretender
Animorphs #25: The Extreme
Animorphs #26: The Attack
Crucial Conversations
A Journey to the Center of the Earth
A Great and Terrible Beauty
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
Dandelion Wine
To Sir, With Love
London Calling
Watership Down
The Invisible
Alice in Wonderland
Through the Looking Glass
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
The Host
The Hunger Games
Catching Fire
Shadows and Strongholds
The Jungle Book
Beatrice and Virgil
Infidel
Neuromancer
The Help
Flip
Zion Andrews
The Unit
Princess
Quantum Brain
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
No One Ever Told Us We Were Defeated
Delirium
Memento Nora
Robopocalypse
The Name of the Wind
The Terror
Sister
Tao Te Ching
What Paul Meant
Lao Tzu and Taoism
Libyan Sands
Sand and Sandstones
Lost Christianites: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew
The Science of God
Calculating God
Great Contemporaries, by Winston Churchill
City of Bones
Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne
Divergent
Stranger in a Strange Land
The Old Man and the Sea
Flowers for Algernon
Au Bonheur des Ogres
The Martian
The Road to Serfdom
De La Terre � la Lune (ip)
In the Light of What We Know
Devil in the White City
2312
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August
Red Mars
How to Be a Good Wife
A Mote in God's Eye
A Gentleman in Russia
The Fatal Conceit: The Errors of Socialism
Seneca: Letters from a Stoic
The Juanes Module


Juanes just needed his own mod. Who can disagree.
It's My Personality That's The Killer
Saturday. 11.16.13 8:25 pm
Tonight I went out to a bar and met some weird people.

They were part of Paris' golden upper crust, the children of the wealthy, and they did whatever they wanted. First we went to a boy's father's apartment, which was at least seven times the size of mine. It was decorated with incredibly famous art, coincidentally painted by the boy's grandmother and grandfather, who are so famous that I will not put their names on this blog lest it make my blog googleable. The boy's father usually comes and smokes weed with his son's house guests, but not today. The father is being sued for something and it puts him in a bad mood.

We spent 45 minutes looking for a rentable electric car to drive, because the boy's 1960s classic car (very cute, nice in the summer) had been in the shop for 5 months and he was selling his scooter. We wanted to take the metro. He wanted to try another car stand. We wanted to take the metro. He wanted to take a taxi. If we had taken the metro, we would have already been there. He hasn't taken the metro in seven years. That's a lot of years for someone who can't be more than 25. He knows nothing about the metro. I had assumed that there were people who were too rich to take the metro, but I never thought I would meet one.

When we finally arrive we are at a birthday party for someone we don't know. She has rented out the whole bar, and there is a person manning a table at the entrance. They recognize the boy, though, so it is fine. He brought her a present-- his mom had bought it. It was a fur stole, because that's apparently what people give people for their birthdays. She loves it. She has a table of presents filled with beautiful necklaces and antique bookends. It's weird to give a fur stole to someone who you don't know very well, isn't it? he asks. We don't know. His mom had made him drive her all around Paris, and wait 45 minutes for her outside Louis Vuitton, or Chanel, or all of the other stores in the Place de Vendome. She even made him run around and open the door for her when she came back. He's her son, he says, not her driver. The kids in the bar are controlling the music from an iphone. Between each song is a long silence while whoever is paying attention searches for a new song. Boys are making out with boys and then turning around and grinding with girls. The South American guy is moving his hips and all of the girls are paying attention. They break about three glasses while I'm watching them. I try not to watch them too closely. They do whatever they want all the time. Their lives must be much more complicated than mine, I think. A guy asks me out and then he asks me that question I hate:
"Why hasn't anyone swept you up yet?"
"Oh, I dunno, maybe I lure guys in with my looks and then as soon as they learn more about me they run the other direction."
"Oh, I dunno, maybe I'm a serial killer and every guy I've ever dated didn't last longer than a week."
What are you trying to achieve with that question? What kind of information are you trying to get out of me? I'm single, ok, if you want me to explain my many personality traits that work together to make this a reality then we could be here all night.

But we can't be here all night, because the beautiful young rich people are changing bars. This place is dead, they say.

"I'm going to head home," I say.
"Me too..." says one of my fellow scientists.

"...this night has been really weird."
2 Comments.


WELL?! WHY NOT?
» middaymoon on 2013-11-17 08:07:15

That is a very frustrating question indeed...
» Unicornasaurus on 2013-11-17 02:33:08

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