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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.
A Tale of Summer
Wednesday. 6.13.07 8:47 pm
The three of us moved slowly though the field, our feet feeling for purchase in the dewy grass and soft mud. It was very dark; the summer moon had not yet risen above the horizon. I was between the two boys. My sandals lit up if I tread on them hard enough, an other-worldly series of green flashes that glowed through the nearby grass enough to plan another step. The air was cool and the darkness stretched around us as we moved into it, passing us ever closer to the sound of running water.

We reached the bridge, this bridge that the boys had made with their own hands; it was solid and sturdy and the extra traction coupled with excitement quickened the one pace it required to cross it. There was a small hill of thick, black mud. They took off their rubber boots and I slipped off my sandals, and the cool mud squished between our toes as we scrambled up the hill to the sauna. This exercise set us to laughing; the sound was hemmed in by the dark night and the shady trees that just now began to appear in my adjusted vision.

We entered the sauna and perched ourselves on its shelves like merchandise in a store. There was a light inside and it leaked into the darkness, providing less of a shine than a flickering glow. The older boy went to work pouring water onto the coals in the corner of the sauna, filling the already sweltering room with hot steam. It was filling up the sauna, this sauna, that the boys had built with their own hands.

Hardly any time had passed before the heat became unbearable. Surely that had to be steam condensing on my skin: it was impossible to sweat that much. The younger boy was looking at his watch. He kept shaking his head. It was not time yet. Wait a little longer. With a mischevious smirk he took the water cup and emptied it over the coals. Steam filled the sauna so fully we could hardly see one another. The air was heavy and scorching in my lungs.

It was time! We went to the door and spilled out onto the slippery hill. Sweet cool air on my skin! What bliss! But that was not enough. Come, they said. We slid down the mud to the edge of the brook. Here, they said, take a hold of the side of the bridge and go into the water. It was cold, my toes reported... oooh it was so cold. The water was higher than either of them had ever seen it- there was no space under the bridge, it was like a roughened pathway through the river itself. I dropped into the water. My nerves went haywire. In a loose crouch it came up to my neck. My breath, just a moment ago languid with humidity, became sharp, shallow, and quick. Following instructions, I ducked my head swiftly under the water. Electricity!

I leapt from the rippling darkness and onto the slope. There was another instruction. Look up! I threw my head back to the sky, the sky of midnight black, peppered with a million stars like an inverse of cinnamon on toast. The Milky Way used to be there, and the summer constellations. Now they were completely unintelligible for their bobbing and weaving and pulsing with my madly beating heart.

We city kids have drugs for this kind of stuff, I joked.
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