All work and no play...

Some things our conductor said in rehearsal tonight, and a Rhyming Moment

2011-11-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

1. Our conductor seems to be consistently either unnecessarily cranky during rehearsal, or striving to be the young, cool, funny guy that wants to joke around all the time. I think because we were on the cusp of a long weekend he was in a good mood.

"Alright, so this is like the little French boy trying to sneak out of his house to play on the French streets in the middle of the French night. On second thought, that sounds kind of sketchy actually. Never mind."

"What does La poupée mean, anyway? The puppet? Ok, right here I want you to just tickle the puppet, okay? What, you think that sounds creepy, too?"

"We are in SCANDINAVIA! There's mountains, and cliffs, and snow, and fjords, and there's a Big Concert Timpani playing REALLY LOUD out there!"

"What's the tempo marking on this movement? Moderato? Good. Does anybody have "rush every time you have quarter notes"? Because I was afraid the publisher had marked all the winds' parts wrong again."

2. I think that perhaps I should change the cd I'm currently playing in my car. As I turned the corner onto my street this evening I noted that not only was I listening to the same song as yesterday when I made that same turn, but I was listening to the same phrase within the same verse of that song. I thought for a moment I had lapped myself.

Charming People 5: Me!

2011-11-06T09:36:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, just so you know, I'm pretty dang charming. Want to know why? Here's some irrefutable proof:

I take my banjo with me whenever I go camping. Everyone loves a banjo at the campfire!
I donate every year to our local community radio and secretly I call it The People's Radio even though I'm pretty sure not all of the dj's are communists.
I sing to my chinchilla every night when I feed her the square of shredded wheat that she so covets. Usually I sing either "Alberta" as sung by Eric Clapton (except I switch out "Chinchilla" for "Alberta") or "Honey Pie" by the Beatles (not "Wild Honey Pie", just the regular one).
I had a speech impediment when I was a small child- who doesn't love a little kid with a speech impediment?
I make cakes from scratch for the birthdays of everyone in my office.

Did you know?

2011-09-14T23:40:00.000-07:00

I'm more disciplined now than I was a little over a month ago. Just so you know.

I've joined an orchestra (I'm last chair in my section- nowhere to go but up!), started riding my bike (partway) to work every day, and completely cut refined sugar from my life (except for family birthdays and religious holidays). Ooh! And I'm also bringing my lunch from home instead of eating out at work, mostly.

Alright, so it sounds pretty cheesy and half-hearted when you read over my pitiful list, but I've been amazed by how much I've been able to get done in the past month, and how, dare I say, easy it has been to do. I'm starting to believe that obnoxious line about if you want to make sure something gets done, give it to a busy person. Somehow, although I still have the same 24 hours in each day that I had before, I'm finding time to get it all done, and I'm finding the willpower to do it, too.

I've been wondering if one of the disciplined actions is somehow imbuing me with mystical powers, and if so, which one is it? Is the orchestra making me fulfilled in life so I feel happy about everything else? Does cutting sugar clear my system from all laziness? Perhaps the bike riding is raising my endorphin levels so I don't notice how annoying and haaarrd it is to make my own food and stay up for evening rehearsals after work.

Whatever it is, I'm just hoping that I don't end up like Allie from Hyperbole and a Half...

Charming People 4: Krystal

2010-11-01T21:28:00.000-07:00

Aside from having a name that makes impossible for her NOT to have been born in the 1980's, Krystal is a pretty amazing lady.

When I lived with her, she was the cutest mixture of party girl and midwestern mom you could imagine. She spent equal amounts of time making casseroles for our apartment for dinner, going out clubbing, working at a small-town public pool, playing Pretty Pretty Princess, and wearing her Marilyn Monroe wig to classes just because she felt like it at the moment.

One of her favorite things to do in the evenings was to watch her Best of Will Ferrell Saturday Night Live dvd, and when she wasn't doing that, she'd make us dinner and shout with us across the table. My favorite thing to do was to watch my roommates should at each other and wait for our across-the-hall neighbors to come in to see if everything was ok.

We cried at the end of the year when we all moved out.

Now Back and Better Than Ever!

2010-10-12T20:39:00.000-07:00

My computer, that is. My writing, well, we'll see. Maybe next week.

In the meantime, here's my weak excuse for new content:

Somehow I've become inspirational to multiple people lately. Or maybe I've just had good ideas? I recently got this urge to keep a bunch of journals. You know, one just for travel, one for work, one for dreams, one for bicycling. I suppose that in order to inspire people, you don't necessarily have to do the thing yourself; just spreading the word is enough, because although I've only written in two of my six journals, I've been telling everyone I know about the plan. So far at least three other people have jumped on the Journal Train, and one person went so far as to confide in my that she's suddenly started remembering her dreams when she never could before. Cower before me, for I can make people dream!

Also! Is it just me, or are there Colin Meloy's running around all over the place? Maybe it's just the glasses, but I've seen more of his doppelgangers than one can reasonably shake a stick at, and really I don't even get out all that much.

Also! Chaim Potok, as a personal favor to me, could you please not write such heartwrenching stuff? I just finished The Chosen and now I'm all dehydrated.

Psst

2010-10-01T11:48:00.000-07:00

You may be wondering why, after getting such an energetic start to my Charming People series, I suddenly stopped saying anything at all. You might guess that it's because I don't know all that many Charming People.

But you'd be wrong.

I stopped writing because my computer suddenly and unexpectedly died on me. It's been a tough couple of weeks, let me tell you. I'm taking it in to be injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected today, so hopefully we'll be back in business soon.

Just so you know.

Charming People 3: Mrs Wahnsiedler

2010-09-12T22:01:00.001-07:00

She was my Kindergarten teacher.

She taught me to read.

She had us put on a circus with hair-raising performances like hula-hooping to music. I think I was a clown.

She didn't say anything when I bought chocolate milk every day instead of regular milk for lunchtime.

She started every new year maintaining that, like Christopher Robin, she was six, and would never be any older. She must've been in her seventies by the time she was my teacher.

Charming People 2: Jukebox

2010-09-09T00:01:00.000-07:00

For my second installment in the Charming People series, I'm casting back to my first job: Taco Bell, the first two years (two years!) of college.

Jukebox had a real name, but only his coworkers knew what it was. His nametag said Jukebox and that's how all the customers knew him. He worked the late night shift, and once business had slowed to a trickle for the evening he would sing and rap for the customers in the drive-through and chat everyone up, as if he wanted nothing more than to talk to the people who happened to be at Taco Bell at 10:30 on a Tuesday night. I think perhaps there might have been nothing he wanted better than that.

Skinnier than a skeleton and not much prettier, he was everyone's favorite, from coworkers to customers to managers to even the corporate suits that would come in every once in a while. He'd never gone to college (heck, I'm not even sure he finished high school), but he knew more about current events, history and religion than anyone else I came in contact with. He was also one of the most generous people you'll ever meet; the "he'd give you the shirt off his back" sentiment is beyond cliched, but it truly describes Jukebox.

My life was enriched by knowing this skinny white guy from Minnesota who regularly sang the chorus to Get Low by Lil Jon and Eastside Boyz, loudly, while I mopped the floor every night after closing.

Charming People 1: Bill

2010-08-30T22:52:00.000-07:00

I read once that Oscar Wilde had something to say about how to judge people. He posited that "it is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious."

I've found that in general he was right, and so in general I try to spend time around the charming people, and avoid the tedious ones. I save a lot of time that way. Every once in a while I wonder if perhaps my idea of charming is different than everyone else's, but I suppose that doesn't matter a whole lot.

I'd like to introduce a few people that I've run across in my life that have been charming. Today let's talk about Bill*.

Bill was a grad student (now an assistant professor, I think) (yes, across the country)** that taught a few of my sociology courses as an undergrad. Bill is of Greek descent, liked to watch movies and google whatever popped into his head during the middle of class, and told great stories. He found some time in the middle of all that to teach us a lot about culture and religion.

He's a scrawny guy, had black hair and a bushy beard and Buddy Holly glasses, your typical nerdy sociology grad student. He always wore these horrible pants- one pair was butter yellow and the other was baby blue- and a polo shirt, with old man sneakers.

When he was a young man, like somewhere between age 7 and 15, apparently his father took him to Greece to see the fatherland. While they were there his father decided that he (Bill) needed to be baptized, and hired some Greek Orthodox priest to do the deed in a local stream. The story goes that there he was, a geeky American kid, standing in a Greek stream in his shorts, about to be baptized, when a bus full of tourists drove up and stopped right there. He said he wanted to tell all the tourists that he wasn't an authentic Greek, but was too busy being dunked in the water to do so while the cameras pointed and clicked.

So many of his stories center around some humiliation or another (another time he was pulled over on his bike twice and fined for not having a headlight on after dark), and he told them with such indignance and obvious relish. I think that if it turned out none of those things ever happened to him, and that he was actually a compulsive liar, it would just add to his charm.

Everyone should be taught by a Bill at some point in their life. If you haven't yet, you need to start looking up classes to take at your local college. Go for a Master's, what the heck.

*I'll leave out last names, since these are all people I've known more or less in passing, and they might be creeped out to google themselves and find somebody they don't remember has been blogging about them.

**Oh, I feel sad now that I'm NOT using last names, because everyone should google Bill's name the way I just did. I got a huge belly laugh out of the different places he comes up on The Internet.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

2010-08-19T22:49:00.000-07:00

Ever since Carrie and Justin both graduated, I never find love notes on my car after work anymore. Sigh.

Frustrated, much?

2010-08-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I went to Mexico. In Mexico they sell you things cheaply, sometimes swindle you, and sometimes kill you on the highway and leave your body for the crows to find.

I didn't get killed or swindled (yet!), but I did buy a cheap hammock. It's actually a very nice hammock, I met the dude that made it, he seemed nice, and it's blue and white. And comfortable. I know this because I set it up at the beach house we stayed at while we were there.

All good things must come to an end, and being back at home I realized that there was a crucial error to my purchase. Namely, we have no trees. The house we live in, it has no landscaping at all, just dirt and many, many rocks. Likewise there are no beautifully exposed rafters or anything on our porch to attach a hammock to, so my lovely blue and white hammock has been sitting, wound up in a ball, on a shelf in my room for a few months now, completely unused since its first glorious day in Mexico.

This weekend I decided that this would have to change, and that I would buy a stand to attach this thing to NO MATTER WHAT, even if the stand cost more than five times what the hammock did, I was going to sleep in that thing on Saturday night.

Many stores and hours later, after searching high in low in every likely and unlikely spot, still no hammock stand. I know that these things can be easily purchased via the internet, but I want instant gratification! If I shell out the dollars, I want to see results that same day. Plus, I'm never home during the middle of the day, so if a package came, probably my Completely Untrustworthy Neighbors would steal it and then sit in their hammocks, laughing in a wicked manner.

I've got two more leads to try out, hopefully tomorrow- the Sports Authority (how I hate that store) and a patio furniture store I've never heard of, but drove by when it was closed the other day. If I have no luck with those, I begin to wonder if it might not be the best idea to just plant some trees in the yard and wait for them to grow.

Things I Can No Longer Say I've Never Gotten For My Birthday

2010-08-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

Rodgers and Hammerstein CD
TP'd
A New Friend
Musk
Silly Triangular Birthday Flags
Kisses from an Italian Man

In Case You Aren't Yet,

2010-07-23T12:45:00.000-07:00

You really should be a regular kottke.org reader. By NOT visiting that site, you're missing out on things like this:

A robot learning to flip pancakes from Sylvain Calinon on Vimeo.

And you're missing out on those things every single day.

Unexpected Worries

2010-07-18T00:05:00.000-07:00

Here's another item to add to the list of things I never imagined I'd worry about:

"Oh no, the cleaning ladies are coming today and the house isn't dirty at all! They won't have anything to do! "

"Maybe we can do a rain dance to track some dirt in for them to mop up..."

Pro Tip

2010-07-13T00:39:00.000-07:00

Want your blush to smell like blush when you get home from vacation?

Try storing is somewhere other than in your makeup bag full of freshly gleaned seashells! This will keep your makeup smelling like makeup and your seashells smelling like disgusting rotting fish, like they should.

For this and more vacation tips, check out my blog at www.areyoureallythatstupid.com !

Another day, another island

2010-07-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

Nantucket is just as sweet and 1920's as I've ever imagined it to be. Our bikes have baskets on them (wicker baskets!) and they get us across the island in a leisurely half hour. There's sandy paths through the beach grass to get to the water, and the waves are satisfactorily pummel-y on my torso. It is, again, quite chilly here, and I begin to wonder why anyone lives anywhere else than on an island during the summer. Why be hot? Why be sweaty and gross in the desert when you can be cool and charming in Nantucket? Just move here for the summer, stay in a cute hostel or maybe rent a home for a few months, and work remotely. We have computers that connect to each other anywhere we want to! Why do we not take advantage of this more often?

Greetings from Martha's Vineyard!

2010-06-29T16:28:00.000-07:00

Where the sun is shining all day long and the air smells like warm rootbeer and anyone on the street would gladly shave your back for a nickel, wokka wokka doo doo yeah!

Alright, so not really, but this place is pretty amazing. They have trees! and water! and a smallish bus service! and bike rentals! The best part? It's not New York City, the hottest place on the planet! I'm very glad to be in a place that has shade and a climate that makes me think that maybe I'd want a sweater in the evening. That thought will pass, I think, but it's still a nice thought.

The only thing that could make life better is if I had some way of getting my pictures into my computer to share them with the world right now. As it is, that will have to wait until I get home. Just imagine me with a silly boatneck red and white striped shirt on, walking around cute little towns, eating seafood near rich people on vacation.

New York is trying to kill me

2010-06-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

Uuuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhhh. I feel disgusting. I think I will probably be like 20 lbs lighter after two weeks in New England. Everything you do here is like bikram yoga. First pose: walk down the street. Second pose: wait for the train. Third pose: try not to fall over when packed onto the subway car like cattle on a train to Chicago. Fourth pose: who the crap thought that swamp coolers would be enough in this hostel when my brain is obviously coming through my pores since there is no more sweat in my body?

Aside from that, our trip has been just peachy. I walked a gajillion miles today and the Cyclone at Coney Island almost killed me with whiplash. The hot dogs and chinese food and gelato made up for it, though. Next stop, Connecticut!

Predictions on what 19 ACT-takers will learn in college

2010-06-13T17:23:00.000-07:00

You're going to learn that you need to make better friends and be careful with your money.
You're going to learn that the university is kind of hard and maybe you should've started at a community college.
You're going to learn that the community college is kind of hard and maybe you'll just go to beauty school. Do beauty schools have sororities?
You're going to learn that Engineering is pretty great, but it doesn't leave you much time for drinking.
You're going to learn that your personality alone isn't going to cut it anymore. But you'll also learn that you're smarter than you think.
You're going to learn that your chosen major will determine whether you have friends for the next 5 years.
You're going to learn that you're smarter than all the other girls in the sorority, but you won't know what to do with yourself without it, so you'll stay.
You're going to learn that you'll be the exact same person you were in high school, only older. This is not a bad thing.
You're going to learn that Insect Science is awesome, even though it's full of nerds. You like nerds even though you're not one of them.
You're going to learn that because you're blessed with good genes and good jeans, you will accidentally surround yourself with shallow people and you'll dumb yourself down for them without even realizing it.
You're going to learn that no matter what major you choose (and you will try most of them), you'll be dissatisfied and disillusioned. Your hygiene will deteriorate and you will become that creepy grad student in the Philosophy department that never finishes his thesis.
Your suspicions about the way the world works, and what your place is in it, will be confirmed. You'll graduate in four and a half years, join the air force as an engineer, and have a blonde wife and three beautiful children to celebrate your 30th birthday with.
You're going to learn that you're not really passionate about anything, but you'll graduate anyway because your parents told you to. You'll become an accountant.
You're going to learn that you are actually very politically minded, and your parents shouldn't be surprised when you get arrested at a rally that gets out of hand.
You're going to learn that no matter what your GPA, your extensive community service, and no matter how good your times, no one will know your name for being on the swim team.
You're going to learn how to convincingly lie about how you spend your nights. Energy drinks taste horrible but they really help you cram in hours of video games studying.
You're going to learn that college really isn't as hard as you've been led to believe, but it's ok- there's a lot of English Literature classes to fill up your time.
You're going to learn that, just like in high school, your protestant work ethic and above-average IQ will be exploited by your classmates. You'll learn this again in the "working world" after you graduate.
You're going to learn that the problem with racism isn't persecution so much as it is the outrageous expectations put on your academic and athletic career, and even social life, based on ignorance and reliance on stereotyping.

Stealing yet another man's words- has it gotten old yet?

2010-06-10T00:16:00.000-07:00

It's just that people keep on saying the things that I'm thinking (before I start to think the things I'm thinking). I think I might have a case of the feelings. That is all.

Another post in which I don't say many of my own words

2010-06-05T19:51:00.000-07:00

But that's ok, you like me anyway.

Having spent an entire semester studying Canadian literature (oh wait, I skipped that class for about a month and a half straight, whoops!) Having spent two non-consecutive months studying Canadian literature, I feel that I have the moral authority to say that Kate Beaton is Right On with her first sketch in today's Hark, a Vagrant!

That is exactly how I felt when reading basically everything for that course. Canadian writers are probably the most depressed and depressing lot of writers you've ever wanted to avoid meeting. Somehow I feel like a better person for reading the Stone Angel, though. Go ahead, call me an impressionistic youth! I dare you.

ALSO

2010-06-02T21:24:00.001-07:00

Recommended for me by Youtube:

Shane McGowan Christmas Lullaby
DuckTales theme song cover

How did you know, Youtube?

Know what they were listening to in space on Feb. 12th this year?

2010-06-02T20:46:00.000-07:00

That's right, it was the Firefly theme song. In case you didn't catch it from Kottke.org, there's an amazing list of all the wakeup call music played on NASA's missions over here.

Baking Habits

2010-05-14T12:38:00.000-07:00

I've recently been on this kick of only baking things that are Out of This World (or in other words, pastries that, when eaten, will take you out of this world and send you straight on to the next). Mostly chocolate things, but also lemon and raspberry things, and a few other flavors in between.

Case in point:

Yes, it's a terrible photograph. I blame the bad natural lighting and the fact that our kitchen table happens to be a similar color to the cookies.

But yes, those cookies are in a 9x13 pan. Yes, they're chocolate on chocolate. And yes, they are larger than my palm. I gave myself diabetes just looking at the batter. Now to take them to work.

My Favorite Spam Message, Like Ever.

2010-05-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

European and American women are too arrogant for you? Are you looking for a sweet lady that will be caring and understanding? Then you came to the right place- here you can find a Russian lady that will love you with all her heart. Can't find a queen to rule your heart? How about beautiful Russian ladies that have royal blood and royal look? Here you can find hundreds of portfolios of these fine women of any age for every taste. Please excuse us if you are not interested.

I think this is just great. Right from the beginning, it grabs you. Hey, European and American women ARE too arrogant for me! Maybe I should look to some other continent. I need somebody humble. How about a RUSSIAN QUEEN? She must have a royal look. The best part, though, is the last sentence.

Please excuse us if you are not interested.

This conjures up an image in my mind, where there's like twenty russian women of all ages, all with a royal look, huddled around a desktop computer circa 1997, typing out these messages in unison and sending them out, hoping that it reaches some American dude that's fed up with all those arrogant Western ladies. Psh. Can't even call them "ladies." Those arrogant Western broads.

Overactive Imagination

2010-05-05T12:28:00.001-07:00

Did you know that there are faces in my shower? Have I told you that before?

There's Stalin. He's near the faucet handle. Mustache and dorky hat and everything.

Vasco da Gama was probably the first one I saw. He's kind of in the middle of the wall, just opposite the showerhead. He always looks a little depressed, looking down and to the right (my right, not his).

Then today I discovered that kid from Where the Wild Things Are, wearing his hood with pointy ears.

In the bathroom in my parents' house, there's Bill and Hilary Clinton, a rat, and a creepy disembodied yelling head.

My query is this: are these just random happenings in the fake marble that gets put in the bathrooms that I live in, or is some diabolical marble-plant worker doing this on purpose, just to see it he can make people go crazy?

Look up, stupid!

2010-05-04T10:07:00.000-07:00

Trying to buy a bunch of cookies and milk today in a seldom-visited grocery store, I realize that I haven't given my discount card to the checkout guy.

"Wait! I have a Fry's card!" I hold up my keychain expectantly while tapping my PIN into the debit machine.

"Fry's card?" The checkout guy doesn't take my card.

I look up at him in his blue shirt, and realize. Oh. Albertson's doesn't care if I have a Fry's card or not.

Then Again, Maybe There's Nothing Wrong with Me at All

2010-05-03T12:27:00.000-07:00

I worry sometimes that people may think that I'm a hypochondriac. I read books, I make connections, and I sometimes identify parts of myself in what I read.

It's happened a couple of times recently where I suddenly realize that I'm reading about me. I get excited because FINALLY some things, some quirks, some general patterns in my life make sense. So then I tell people, and as I'm telling them, I fear that they won't believe me.

"This book is helping me understand so much about myself," I'll say, while at the same moment sensing disbelief and that vague, just go along with it nodding coming from my audience.

Don't they see that this really IS a breakthrough for me? And don't they understand the relief that comes when you can finally identify something that's been wrong for years and years, that you could never put your finger on? And don't they realize that I AM NOT A HYPOCHONDRIAC, THIS IS REAL AND TRUE?

Look Up!

2010-05-02T22:30:00.000-07:00

In the air! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's a bird. I saw more birds today than I usually see in a month of Sundays. I saw a hawk, doves, quails (how I hate them!), finches, a hummingbird, a cardinal, and an oriole. I wish I could make a joke about somebody flipping me the bird today, but alas, the people on the road were pretty civil, so no dice.

Happy Birthday!

2010-05-01T10:29:00.002-07:00

Poorly executed "whimsical" birthday

Three matches to light eight candles birthday

John Lennon birthday

Don't shoot till you see the whites of their eyes birthday

Let it out, you're turning blue birthday

Cookies make an excellent cake birthday

Triumphant birthday

Muttonchop birthday

Blow the candles out, don't kiss them birthday

Typical Email Exchange with an old Coworker and Friend

2010-04-28T22:15:00.000-07:00

RICHARD to ME

I was chit chatting with some female friends of mine, and I was explaining to them how someone rates on my "radar" (yeah, single people do silly things like that in case some of you have forgotten). After some more chatting, I somehow came away with agreeing to make a super cool excel spreadsheet that they could fill out while rating a certain guy (or it could go the other way if a guy wanted to use the spreadsheet. A much better version of the stuff like at eharmony.com). So my request to you peoples is: would you mind throwing out some things that matter when looking for someone to date/marry? I know, most of you have been married so long that you could have grandkids by now. Anything at all. i would prefer to just let the mind loose and come up with 100 things each. Okay, maybe not that many but no reason to hold back.

I will be dividing these topics into four categories, examples below:

Physical Attractiveness-height
-body shape
-smile

Spiritual Attractiveness
-supports activities
-does his home teaching
-reads scriptures everyday

Personality Attractiveness
-similar hobbies
-respect for not killing sharks
-does not have annoying laugh

Shows Interest Attractiveness
-laughs at my jokes
-makes an effort to say hi to me
-remembers things that we talk about

Let me know if you need any clarification. Remember, the more cool topics the better I look to these girls...and maybe I will sell the silly thing to the Utah dating coach.

Go to town!

Thanks,

Richard

ME to RICHARD

Richard, what a great diversion from work for my lunch break! Here we go:

Physical Attractiveness:

- good hands. This could mean a) strong , b) orderly fingernails, c) evenly calloused or d) prominent knuckles. No short fingers. I don't know why this is important, but it is.

- stands like a man, and not a wimp. This doesn't necessarily mean perfect posture, just being comfortable with who he is.

- his smile makes other people happy.

- deepish voices are always good.

- his body, and the way he uses it, lets you know that he would not die if you left him alone in the forest for a week.

Spiritual Attractiveness:

- you know that he does have a spiritual side because it comes up in conversation in a non-awkward way.

- not patronising.

- magnifies his callings.

Personality Attractiveness:

- CAPABLE: is able to physically, intellectually, and emotionally navigate situations he hasn't necessarily experienced before. He can figure out how to find a job, how to go snowshoeing, how to find his way to Pittsburgh, how to give a eulogy for a pet rat, how to make meatballs out of tofurkey. He doesn't have to do it perfectly the first time, but he does have to do it without being guided. This is by far the most important thing on this list.

- has his own interests and hobbies.

- not afraid to have a differing opinion than others, but also isn't combative about it.

- likes to involve others in his interests and activities.

- likes to learn new things.

- confident in, but realistic about, his abilities.

Shows Interest Attractiveness:

- he is excited to see me.

- he smiles at me.

- he asks me out.

- he looks for ways that we can be together, and makes it happen.

That was kind of fun. Hope my input helps:)

RICHARD to ME

yeah, I have always thought thinking about people you want to date is fun, perhaps it is feminine, but I deep down think everyone likes it.

I remember when Roommate 1, Roommate 2 and I used to sit around talking about the girls we liked. Random conversation that really did not amount to anything, but still fun. Roommate 3 and Roommate 4 (Ed. Note: both now married) really never got into that. I would almost think that would be an indicator...but Roommate 1 is trying to break that mold.

I do appreciate all the insight. It is hard to think as others, and I wanted this master list to compile a range of thoughts and ideas. It is really not going to be complicated, simply the weight you want the topic to have times the values you givea person, and presto! a rating from 1-100. I think someone needs to be in the 80% or above for a relationship to take form. But I also think that is not hard to happen when you like someone (the ever popular X factor.). But since it is my list, I get to break it down to the four categories since I feel they are all important. I know some people have already said stuff like "look don't matter since it is the lasting qualities that matter when you are old and wrinkled". Important, but it is easy for them to say since they are married.

Thanks again,

Richard

Thoughts I had during tonight's show

2010-04-24T01:03:00.000-07:00

Why do there have to be so many people here?

Hurrah, we got here just in time for the band to come on!

I sure hope S. likes this, considering how much he just shelled out for a ticket without knowing who the band even is.

I hope my big silly grin isn't freaking him out. The spectacle and the music is just too much!

No, wait, NOW it is just too much.

Looks like S. is enjoying himself. Whew!

Wait, wait, wait, is that guy really playing the keyboard, or is he faking it? Shoot, it's fake.

Wait, it's real.

Fake?

I guess it doesn't matter. It still sounds good.

I like their footwork, with the bouncing from side to side like happy little kids.

EVERY band should have a standing cellist. Awesome.

Wait, they know Roll in My Sweet Baby's Arms? Awesome again!

With a disco ball? Inspired!

Silly grin just keeps getting bigger. I hope there isn't cilantro in my teeth or anything.

Why are they leaving?

Wait, why aren't they coming back on stage? The power of expectant applause is failing us! Quick, we need more applause!

Oh good, they're back!

That was good.

That was really good.

I may not be able to sleep tonight that was so good.

Why do there have to be so many people here?

Maybe you don't need to know this

2010-04-19T23:22:00.000-07:00

Last night I had this secretly awesome dream in which some jerk of a girl* did something selfish (she waited for me to go to great lengths setting something up [a trampoline!], then got up on it and used it before I had a chance to) and I got TOTALLY PISSED and yelled shouted bellowed** at her, this extended string of angry vitriol until I was hoarse and unable to speak anymore.

I woke up feeling incredibly satisfied and powerful, then wondered if I should start shouting people down for little things more often. Perhaps I would be happier?

* no recognizable face, which is interesting considering the number of people whose faces my conscious self put in there after I woke up.

** like the horn of a huge cruise ship, or no! like the horn of Helm Hammerhand!

I'm just skipping over March completely. What has March ever done for me, anyway?

2010-04-04T23:40:00.001-07:00

Here are some things that I've wished I could say to various roommates, past and present:

Grow up!

Could you please clean up after your margarita parties? I hate the sticky pink stuff all over everything the next morning.

Maybe wash the dishes once in a while.

Please wash the dishes a little less often.

Learn to live within your means!

You could do so much better than that guy.

How come *I* can't have that guy?

You know what your problem is? You don't care as much about other people as you do about yourself.

I hate your freaking soap operas. No one really acts like that.

Seriously, the way you leave hair all over the bathroom floor makes me late to work because I'm obsessive compulsive about where I put my wet feet after a shower. How hard is it to clean up your own damn hair?

I am NOT your mother.

You are not my mother.

Why can't you think more like I think?

Please never try to fry chicken wings again. I like my apartments not burnt down.

I love you.

A thing that annoys me and a thing that charms me

2010-02-28T23:48:00.000-07:00

1. Mormons that are somehow unable to give thanks for RAIN in their prayers. If I hear one more person appreciate the "moisture" I am going to scream and charge out the door of the chapel. I will not wait for the amen.

2. Actually owning The Color Red and The Lost Year by Andrew Rose Gregory. New quiet time music!

DID YOU KNOW THAT...

2010-02-22T22:29:00.001-07:00

When you finish loading the dishwasher and start it, then turn around to find a peanut buttery knife in the newly emptied sink, it usually isn't who you think it is? Today I learned the truth about the mystery knife user.

It's Satan, trying to get you to fight with your housemates.

NOW YOU KNOW.

Things I am in Love with recently

2010-02-14T14:51:00.004-07:00

My new perfume! I finally moved away from vanilla, and got two great smells for myself. One is Pure Grace (it's all over the internet, I think, or was several years ago at least), which makes me smell kind of like laundry, and the other is Harajuku Lovers Lil' Angel, which reminds me of pineapple and a bunch of other stuff (Plus! It comes in the coolest bottle with a doll for a lid).

My laptop-using spot, on my stomach on the floor with my banjo stand right in front of my face. I'm still getting over my cold (argh, it's been a whole month now) and when I sneeze my banjo reverberates and makes fun noises in sympathy.

My yellow earrings that I bought a few weeks ago. They're big and yellow and go really well with purple sweaters.

I got to sit between a bass and a tenor in sunday school today. Not only are they amazing singers, but they were also the two most attractive men in the room. Don't know how I worked that.

My newly nail-less big toe. You're so cute with your nail-shaped indentation and leftover cuticle! Since the nail came off all in one piece, I'm thinking of turning it into a banjo/guitar pick. What better material to make one out of than a human nail?

Perhaps two hours at the bookstore is inadvisable

2010-02-14T00:28:00.006-07:00

Why can't I find a good photography book that tells me just what I need/want to know? Please don't condescend (Photography for Dummies and Grandmas!), please don't be a users manual (I already got that with the camera), please don't be like from the early eighties with the haircuts in the example photos to prove it. All I want is something to explain what the mechanics of things are (please tell me about shutter speeds and aperture and how to mess with exposures) and also some helpful composition tips (maybe I need to take a class for this kind of thing. Theory of Making Things Look Good 101, perhaps). I do not need a book that includes a chapter on how to choose the right point-and-shoot for you. That is a waste of pages and I don't really feel like buying ten pages worth of book that I will not read. I ended up getting The Photography Bible by Daniel Lezano, because it is pretty dang close to what I'm looking for. Looking through it again now, after purchasing it, I'm happier than when I picked it up in the store. Good.
I think that there is something wrong with bookstore culture? sociologists? the buyers for national bookselling giants? me? I guess what I'm trying to say is that out of the whole shelf full of books in the section marked Sociology, not one of them appealed to me, even though it is the field that I chose to earn a degree in, and I truly do enjoy the field. I suppose there's a difference between academic Sociology with a capital S, and pop sociology sold to middle-aged ladies who quit college after getting their Associate's degree and never looked back. It's just a bigger difference than I thought it was. Again: is it too much to ask? Can we not have both academic and pop literature in the same bookstore? Must we dumb ourselves down for the masses?
So many freaking journals! Blank books of so many shapes and sizes! How much do they think people are writing anymore? Granted, the average person today probably records more of their thoughts for the enlightenment of others than the average person of ten or twenty years ago, but I am certain that over 97% of that is happening online, and not in journals. So either (a) I am wrong, and there are legions of people there still keeping Old-Tyme handwritten journals, (b) I am right, and there are a bunch of bookstores across the country with ten years' worth of journals in stock, or (c) people are buying journals for themselves and their friends, but then never actually using them. Depending on how long These Troubling Economic Times last, the empty journals could be made useful by burning them to heat houses and cook dinners.

At least I did find them

2010-02-06T22:58:00.003-07:00

The other day as I was riding my bike into work, I had my purse, several hair ties, a year-old newspaper, a banjo capo, some antibiotics, a headlamp, a bottle of honey and a loaf of bread in my bike bag.

And yet somehow, my debit card and driver's license were missing for almost a week before I found them tonight under a pile of clothes in my bedroom. Perhaps now is the time for, if not a Spring Cleaning, then at least a Spring Organizing.

I want some cheese with my whine

2010-01-14T21:44:00.002-07:00

Really? Am I really (really) that disconnected from every other human being? I'd say from all the other human beings on the face of the planet, but you have to account for those guys up in the space station, too.

When you wanted quiet and focus in the office, I wanted to fidget with anything, with everything, on your desk.

When you wanted to go out for mid-afternoon ice cream all I wanted to do was work on the project and get it done already.

When you were driving home from work with your fiance I was sitting in my office weeping ugly tears alone.

When you were talking about the Rain Man I wanted to talk about Fahrenheit 451, but I didn't.

When you were talking about autism and social cues and stemming I wanted to bring up Oprah neurons, but I didn't.

When you wanted to sing that Celine Dion/Barbara Streisand duet I wanted to bray like a donkey, and then maybe sing an Irish drinking song instead.

When you brought up the Age of Innocence I almost told you about A Room With a View and Where Angels Fear to Tread, but you changed the subject too fast.

When you were talking about your sweet husband and your sweet son and your exciting pregnancy all I could think about was how you smelled like hair products and how I never smell like that and how maybe you always smell that way. Maybe all normal women smell that way and that's maybe why I'm not married with a son and a pregnancy of my own, is because the men can smell that my hair isn't styled and therefore my hair (and the rest of me, by default) is unmarriageable.

How can everyone else in the world just live their lives like normal when I alone am so put upon? How?

Favorite Moments in 2009

2010-01-02T18:00:00.002-07:00

Making it through the first year at my job. Not only did I not get fired during the first year, but I also didn't quit! I think that's a hurrah.
Making my first cheese. It was a cheddar.
We made the move back from an apartment to a house. With a backyard! Putting up the Christmas lights on our house made me happy.
Traveling with my friend Cammie. I keep needing to pinch myself to remember that this most fabulous of women is actually my friend. San Diego, Los Angeles, Barcelona, Madrid, Lisbon.
Seeing Ira Glass. I felt kind of grownup, paying to see a man tell stories I could've just listened to on the radio for free. I liked it.
Hurrah, two weeks with Krista.
I can overcome physical challenges! 80 miles on a bike, 14 miles on a hike. Maybe in 2010 I will learn to overcome these challenges with some shred of grace and dignity. Bring it on, 2010!

This Book is Exploding my Mind

2009-12-07T12:53:00.002-07:00

From Nerds: Who The Are and Why We Need More of Them by David Anderegg:

The nerd/geek stereotype assumes, in its very essence, that nerds and
geeks, those who are "born to" a passion for precision, are somehow inhuman or
sick. But of course Melnick's work suggests an alternative explanation:
Nerd-labeled kids are those who have not had the indoctrination about the "cold
hard world" and the "warm soft mommy." These may be kids who have been lucky
enough to feel nurtured by precision, by exactitude, by detail, the ones who
have a warm, soft mommy (or daddy) whose favorite exciting thing to do with them
is not to cuddle up and make up stories but to look things up in a dictionary,
read the encyclopedia, or construct a machine and make it work. The degree of
brainwashing to which we have been subjected by our metaphoric entailments is
apparent when we think about the unlikeliness of this picture. But it is not
impossible; it happens all the time in nerd-labeled families. Perhaps we have
come to a time in human history when, as teachers and as parents, we need to
find a way to erase the distinction between the "cold hard world" and the "warm
soft mommy" once and for all, and impart the warmth and humanity of precision
and technology to our children.

Happy Saturday of equal parts housework, sleep, eating and loafing

2009-12-05T13:30:00.003-07:00

I'm not usually a major fan of specific flash games- I like them well enough as a slack-jawed time-waster and something to keep me from thinking too much, but I've never really thought, "wow, that game is really well designed and challenging to my intellect."

Until last night, when I came across this game, via Kottke.org, and became so addicted that I fell asleep in the middle of a level, sitting in our living room chair, and woke up at 5:40 in the morning, computer still on my lap, lights still on.

You should try it. I've gone through all the levels once now, and I've got a feeling that although I found some pretty creative ways to get through each level, there's a lot more possibilities.

Vague Feelings of Discontent and What the Heck am I Doing with my Life

2009-11-30T21:12:00.002-07:00

Also, Is This the Way It's Supposed to Be?

I was talking to my boss today (who else would I talk to?) and he was chastising me for something that plenty of other people have chastised me for, but something that really isn't hurting anyone so LAY OFF, PEOPLE, when he did some quick mental arithmetic about the amount of time a regular office-working type person spends awake and asleep at home. He came to the conclusion that most people only average about 3 awake-time hours per workday at home. I think he's overestimating the amount of time people spend sleeping, so I'd probably up that to around 5 hours per day, if you don't go out or do anything else after work.

Either way, this seems somehow wrong. Why is it that the place where we "live" is only a place where we stop by for a few hours a day? Shouldn't Home be the place where we spend the most time? Again, maybe I'm way off base here. Perhaps I have a weird, idealized 50's version of reality in my head and I don't really know what I'm talking about.

Perhaps I should just sleep less.

Favorite parts of the Sunday after Thanksgiving

2009-11-29T23:02:00.002-07:00

Did you know that NOW IS THE TIME for Christmas music? I spent so much of my day today with Christmas music. And it's wonderful!

1. Wake up and take a shower. Listen to Christmas music in the shower.

2. Go to church. Oddly, no Christmas music there. We still seemed to be in Thanksgiving-land, as far as hymns were concerned.

3. Stay after church for choir practice. Christmas cantata!

4. Go home to make delicious leftover-turkey soup. Christmas in my iPod and my headphones!

5. Go to a different singing group (not choir) rehearsal. Christmas music that's kind of hard to learn. Also lots of laughing and giggling and weird-noise-making and other juvenile things. Because we're classy dudes and dames.

Although this was a great day, and there should probably be more days like it in my life, I think I might need to take a step back and pace myself. I've still got a hefty three and a half weeks to go, here.

Favorite parts of the Saturday After Thanksgiving

2009-11-28T22:59:00.000-07:00

1. Burritos for dinner! No turkey at the table.

2. Hanging Christmas lights on my house. We are cheery!

3. Pulling massive Weeds From Mars out of our side yard and stripping all of their leaves off into the compost heap. Some of them were taller than me.

Gasp! Is America better than Canadia?

2009-11-27T11:58:00.004-07:00

I think that perhaps the best part of Thanksgiving is that night, after you've stuffed yourself full, and you're sitting there on the couch, watching a movie or reading a book, and you get that sudden rush of happiness when you realize that... the next day is FRIDAY.

If I hadn't been full to the point of exploding, I would have jumped up and done some gleeful capering at that moment.

As much as I love Canada, this is one area where America has them beat: we were wise enough to put our Thanksgiving on a Thursday, giving us a nice four-day weekend. Take that, you Monday-Thanksgivingers!

Quick addition to my Christmas List

2009-11-26T10:11:00.001-07:00

The Color Red by Andrew Rose Gregory. He just changed his website around so you can't just listen to the whole album. Sigh.

Giving Thanks and the Airing of Grievances

2009-11-25T23:48:00.000-07:00

Things that are great:

My family, even though they criticize me

Sour Patch Kids, even though they give me cavities

My job, even though it's driving me to an early grave or an asylum

My neat body that can do things like bake bread and ride bikes all over creation, even though I could kill my elbow right now (if it doesn't kill me first)

Things that kind of suck:

The timing of life in general-- why is it that you can never have leisure, youth, and money all at the same time?

Our dumb internet connection at home-- we are paying you people money so that we can connect to the internet, so why is it that we have issues with people unintentionally kicking each other off the wireless connection every single day?

Food-- why must it be at the same time so delicious and so fattening?

My skin-- how is it that some parts of me (forehead, armpits) can have so much moisture, when other parts of me (elbows, knees, heels) are drier than the Sahara?

This is my Grown-Up Christmas List

2009-11-24T18:57:00.005-07:00

Please buy me:

1. A black French Bulldog that I can name Rufus Wainwright.

2. A VPU? We've got this wall in our house that would be great to project things like The Endless Summer and Muppets From Space onto. This might also require some sort of speaker setup, though.

3. Some ulcer medication, because I'm definitely going to need it by the time Christmas rolls around.

4. Terrible Earrings to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies and desire into the hearts of the men around me.

5. A day at the spa or something.

6. A portrait of Hippy?

Please don't buy me:

1. The Planet Earth series. Amazon was selling it for $30 today and I couldn't resist.

2. Long-john-looking pajama bottoms. I've got enough of those. Slacks-shaped flannelly pj bottoms are welcome, though.

3. Non-Terrible Earrings

Things You Can Sit On (alternately, things that can be flushed)

2009-11-23T00:53:00.001-07:00

A toilet

Your car's radiator

An embarrassed person

Your liver

A surprised game fowl

Say What?

2009-11-22T13:15:00.003-07:00

Last night one of my roommates interrupted my story of the race to ask what the word gump meant. I gave her my "are you really that dumb" look that I probably use too often (and probably should work on not giving anymore), and explained what it meant.

Then I saw Canofjam's comment, pondering on the same word. I generally give her more credit on those kinds of things, so I started to wonder. Maybe this word isn't as well-known as I thought it was.

I checked The Internet.

Nothing.

Crap.

I googled "gump." Lots of Forrest Gump references and Return to Oz references, and even one for Weird Al.

I googled "gump definition." All I got was about dunces and oafs. Even the slang dictionary only gave that definition.

Huh.

I started writing this post up, shaking my head and wondering what other fake words my family has taught me, what other family folklores there are that I think are universal but really don't make sense to anyone else.

I tried The Internet once more. I googled "gump toilet."

Ah Hah! Southern California company that rents out portable toilets. Andy Gump Toilets. The world starts to make sense again, why my friends wouldn't know the word that is a solid, if not integral, part of my language.

For all you non-Southern Californians out there, a gump is a portable toilet. I guess Port-a-Potty is a less regional name for it that people might know.

So now you know.

Now I have to go see about the clothespin on your mother-in-law's tongue.

I saw it on my bike today: Race Day Version

2009-11-21T16:09:00.002-07:00

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Lady getting ready to flash someone from the side of the road
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People holding trays full of bananas and watermelon and creepy PBJ's
Gumps
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Scary crash a few yards ahead of me
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Aid station with people I know. Brusquely happy talking.
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Dad's cell phone falling to the ground
Cyclist face
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Battered cell phone
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My bicycle's computer falling to the ground
Dad riding against the current to get my computer
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Balloon archway
Dad's palm, ready for a finish-line high five

A la Mimi Smartypants

2009-11-20T18:49:00.003-07:00

1. Today was some sort of Balloon Glow on campus that apparently was advertised more strongly at elementary schools than actually on campus. I saw the (in?)famous Remax hot air balloon and waded through a sea of bad-mannered pedestrians on my bike. I count the evening a success because I didn't run over or yell at any children or their parents, and also didn't get inconvenienced too much. Also, marching band music!

2. I am sad because although Breaking Away is probably the perfect thing to show in the historic theater the night before a bike race, many of the people who would want to watch it are wanting to rest up and prepare for their grueling day ahead. I wish I could go to the Theater, but I've got jerseys to wash. Hmph.

3. I heard one of the more awesome reggae songs on the radio tonight. I can't say for sure, but I would guess that it's called Free Marijuana. Some of my favorite lyrics: "the whole wide world, crying for ganja to be free!" and also the gem, "it's good for glaucoma!" Who can refute such well-stated platforms as those?

4. Ganja Tales! Sorry, I couldn't resist. From the reviews: "It's not solely a pot book- it's about universal human experiences," and "never trust a pit bull tripping shrooms."

5. I have begun the Christmas Shopping Process. The first thing I bought was actually something that I think will be perfect for the recipient, rather than my usual beginning-of-shopping experience where I go to the bookstore and wander around aimlessly, purchasing books that I think look cool and then trying to decide who to give them to afterwards (although that also happened tonight).

6. Probably my favorite part of my job is when I get to make updates to our website, and I sit there clicking Refresh over and over and over again until the changes take effect and I can see new stuff pop up where there wasn't stuff before. It's the little joys in life that make it worthwhile.

7. Pugs and Donuts!

What in the world does Richard Do.doc

2009-11-19T21:05:00.004-07:00

My old co-worker, Richard, was really a sweet guy. You couldn't ask for a more honest person, or more entertaining personality, to share a workplace with. When he left the office for bigger and better things, and I took over his position, he left me a Word document outlining the various duties that I should know about. Here's a little taste of what in the world Richard did (names of people and other things have been removed to protect the me). He sure left some big shoes to fill:

1. Website updating
a. You have updated content on the web using text pad and it is only easier using FrontPage. I am no web master, I simply link things or type text. In fact, anything complicated should be done by (our tech people), in fear that we will destroy the world.

2. (Routing program)
a. Ugh, I dislike this a lot. You know this is where we send Registration the course sections that are cancelled, some that have enrollments and the rest that MIGHT have enrollments. I miss (co-worker from another office) just picking them up. It seems like more work this way.

3. Student Schedules and Supervision
a. Well, I don’t know who will be doing this. Obviously supervision means supervise. Collecting the student’s schedules and making sure there is coverage can be done in many ways. I like to put it in an Excel Spreadsheet.

4. Listen to Video Game Music
a. Annoy those who over hear it.
b. You can find them on Youtube if your stash has run out.

5. Final Exam Schedule
a. (Student Worker) did all this work and (old co-worker) was the supervisor. So when I was “in charge” I just made sure that (Student Worker) was still breathing.
b. For now, we use the big paper, so that is your reference

6. (Scheduling Software)
a. Creating sections and events in (software) you know how to do
b. Anything crazy like creating a term or bulk room assignments belong in the scheduling documentation
c. When things go bonkers, all you can do is call (our main tech guy)
d. Remember, never delete anything from the Rooms tab. I almost destroyed the world.
e. (Boss) goes to a (software) conference once a year in (some city). Maybe you can tag along.

7. Attempt to be funny
a. Usually not met with much success
b. But at least I am having a good time

8. (Tech Group)
a. You have send helpdesk tickets before. You know that (tech group) pretty much does everything from creating logins to fixing our problems and anything techy or administrative in between…and always with a smile on their face.
b. They prefer a ticket from their website, but phone calls are accepted

9. (Reporting software)
a. You have a (reporting software) account, there really isn’t too much else exciting about it
b. To help someone else get one, go to
i. (boring url)
ii. I have never asked for someone’s access to be deleted…since it just expires…maybe I should be.

10. Eat lots of food
a. Hey, with a bunch of girls working here, someone has to pick up the slack.

Who's the Boss? (no, not Tony Danza)

2009-11-18T22:31:00.002-07:00

I was sitting in my religious class tonight, after a long day at work (I don't know, maybe it wasn't a long day after all. I don't even remember anymore), thinking about spiritual stuff but also still kind of thinking about work and also trying not to fall asleep all at the same time. As I sat there pondering these things I realized something interesting, and I'm not sure what exactly it means. I realized that I spend probably about 36 hours more per week talking to, and talking about, my boss than I spend talking to, and talking about, God.

Is that weird? Is that a bad thing? I'm trying to imagine what God thinks of this, that I spend that much more time thinking about my boss than about Him. On the one hand, that's probably really bad, because my boss isn't going to do much about giving me eternal salvation or answering my prayers or redirecting drunk drivers so they don't hit me. In the grand scheme of things, God is pretty much the most important person in my life, hands down. On the other hand, though, I think He must be ok with this kind of thing happening, because I don't think that many people out there spend 40+ hours a week on Him. There are some people that do, yes, but most people, no. Plus, if we were really supposed to spend the majority of our time on God, I think He probably would have set aside more than just one day as the Sabbath; we'd have like six days of Sabbath and one day of labor.

I suppose it's just one of life's little quirks, but it is strange to think that if an alien landed on the planet and watched me for awhile, it would probably assume that my boss is more important to me than my God is. Maybe I need to rethink my life?

Favorites from tonight's concert

2009-11-17T23:08:00.002-07:00

Favorite line: "This next song is called tch-tch-tch-tch-tch, tch-tch-tch-tch-tch."

Favorite song: definitely the very last one, they played it well plus it's already my favorite.

Favorite audience member(s): it's a toss-up between the guys in white shirts and grey sweaters that stood there like statues the whole time, right up at the front, and the couple directly in front of us that apparently had just one beer each but were dancing with abnormal exuberance and kept getting closer and closer to us till the guy's back was pretty much an inch away from my friend's nose.

Favorite medicine: Aspirin OH WHERE IS THE ASPIRIN. Apparently my head wasn't made for loud music.

On Sleeping Outside

2009-11-16T21:12:00.002-07:00

I've always enjoyed camping, ever since I was very young when my family used to camp (this was before my mother asserted her dislike of the outdoors and general discomfort). Some of my warmest memories aren't even very good memories, but are fleeting images of green woody areas and a river (?) and a tent. Maybe it was somewhere in Oregon, I don't really know.

I don't get to go camping nearly as much anymore as I would like to; I just don't ever seem to have the time, and if I did have the time, I wouldn't have anyone to go with me. I have found an amazing solution to that problem, though, since we moved into a house with a backyard.

I'm not sure if you knew this, but back porch + old futon + sleeping bag = I may never sleep inside a building again. It's a combination of the best parts of camping (sleeping outside! Watching the stars! Fresh air! Night sounds!) and the best parts of living in a house (bed to sleep on! Indoor bathroom nearby! I can forage in the kitchen for breakfast! Roof in case it rains!). It was interesting that for the first week or so I felt a little nervous, like, what if a snake or bobcat or homeless person wanders into the yard while I'm asleep? But now that I've been out there for a couple of months, I feel more comfortable with the dark outside than I do with the dark inside. Plus it's just so nice to wake up, open my eyes, and see the rosy-fingered dawn just creeping up out of the east, making its way into my backyard.

Why my friend Carrie is All That

2009-11-15T17:27:00.003-07:00

Because she always puts her best face on for the camera.

Because she insinuated herself into my life somehow, at an age where I wasn't really wanting to make new friends (but really when do I EVER want to make new friends?)

Because she is always happy, no matter what. And when she's not happy, she just temporarily frustrated, or perturbed, not depressed or angry.

Because she let me borrow her Safety Kids cd.

Because she finds the time to not only raise her daughter and go to school, but also to make peanut brittle and cupcakes and all kinds of nonessential lovely things on a regular basis.

Because she is kind to people that don't deserve it.

Because she let me be her daughter's godmother, even though we're not Catholic.

Because she makes the best of IT, whatever IT may be.

Because she is always excited to see me and to hear about my life. At least, if she isn't excited, she's a really good actor.

Because she makes the best Korean food I've ever tasted.

Because she's my most reliable source of hugs.

I saw it on my bike today: Dead or Alive

2009-11-14T18:53:00.002-07:00

1. A deer

2. A dog

3. Scrubby bushes

4. A big crow

5. Sunflowers

6. A bunny

7. A javelina

8. My dad

Dead: 2, 5, 6, 7
Alive: 4, 8
Both: 3
Massacred: 1*

* Man, that thing was nasty. It looked like it got hit by a car, then a yeti found it and dragged it to the side of the road, and ripped off an entire leg from the hip area, then coyotes wandered by and chewed up its middle. The plus side of the situation was that it didn't smell. That is more than I can say for many unseen dead things near the road today.

Discovery!

2009-11-13T21:02:00.004-07:00

Having let the holes in my ears close up early in my teendom (perhaps even before), I never really got the hang of wearing earrings of different shapes and sizes. Now that I got my ears pierced for a second time, I'm catching up on all the earringy goodness that I missed out on the first time around.

Today I wore one of my three new pairs of Terrible Gaudy Earrings. They look something like this, only turquoise colored, and massive:

As I rode my bike the mile or so from my car to my office, I discovered something important about massive earrings. They become like sails in the wind! I feared I might fly away before I got to work. Now that I know, I will be sure to check the forecast before choosing my headgear.

Ways in which I am like a 13-year-old in charge of my own life

2009-11-12T22:08:00.002-07:00

Still attracted to shiny things found on the street: cast-off earrings, ball bearings, quarter slugs.

Scabs are things to be picked at and picked at until they bleed or finally disappear.

Two words: brownie mixes.

I still feel compelled to stay up as late as possible BECAUSE I CAN. Never mind that I feel like crap every morning because of it.

My idea of a good time is riding bikes.

I despise and dread washing my hair. So much effort! So much time! So much having to touch my own hair!

If there is leftover cake in the house, you know what I'm having for breakfast each day until it's gone.

I've got a real post in the works, but until then...

2009-11-11T12:17:00.002-07:00

I'll just let you chew on that for awhile. Magic shoulder dog!

Ah, but how was the rest of your day?

2009-11-10T00:21:00.000-07:00

I'm glad you asked! I'm also surprised that you're interested in knowing the minutiae of my day. Pretty soon I'll be telling you what I had for lunch.

In case you were doubtful that self-injury on treacle was anything other than a omen of a bad day, let me submit to you what happened in the following 17 hours:

1. I went to work. Need I say more? (not that I dislike my job in general. I just dislike my job... this year. It'll get better next year, I think) (plus, who wouldn't rather be on vacation than at work?)

2. I burnt the whole left side of the inside of my mouth on subpar PastaRoni angel hair and nasty herbs.

3. I went to the park to play kickball but instead spent my time picking 86 bulls heads out of the bottoms of my shoes. 33 on the left shoe, 53 on the right shoe.

4. I tried to get to bed as early as possible, and was thwarted by the just-loaded washing machine when it unexpectedly started leaking water. This resulted in gross laundry room floor mopping, wet laundry relocation, sucking on a hose full of dirt, water, laundry detergent and possible scorpions. Also washing a large load of laundry by hand in the bathtub (turns out that twisting a soaking shirt around and around to remove excess water is incredibly painful for a person with a broken elbow and a treacle cut on their hand). Also not getting to bed until much later than expected and desired.

How to tell your day isn't going to be easy

2009-11-09T07:09:00.002-07:00

You wake up having to go to the bathroom an hour before you usually wake up.

Your roommate is in the shower when you need to get in, and she takes a really long time.

You rip a hole in your english muffin that you're about to toast, making it impossible to butter and eat it tidily.

You cut your thumb open. On treacle.

Look out, world! I'm on my way.

Some URLs that would make me sad if they suddenly disappeared

2009-11-08T08:25:00.002-07:00

http://ihasabucket.com/

http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=B9F8248A71DD9FA0

http://qwantz.com/index.php

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNGOG3A7P3E

http://kottke.org/

http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=0407A10CC91113AA&search_query=bishop+allen

http://mimismartypants.com/

You should go out there and read and watch. You will be happy you did. I will also be happy you did.

Hypothesis

2009-11-07T23:35:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I realize something about society's unwritten laws that had somehow previously escaped me. This week I had one of these epiphanies while on a lunch break at work. I picked up the student newspaper that is widely read and generally pretty ok as far as college newspapers are concerned, and flipped to my favorite page- the one with the crossword on it. The crossword happens to be on the same page as the comics, and as I glanced over them I realized that not one of them was funny. About 75% of them were badly drawn, too. Thinking back to previous years and previous comics, I couldn't think of one example of any student newspaper comic that I enjoyed.

I can reach three conclusions from my experience: 1. I just have had bad luck and there are good student paper comics out there, somewhere. 2. There is an unwritten law that states that no funny comics can be posted in college or high school papers. 3. The type of people that write good comics are not the type of people to go to college.

An Open Letter to my Elbow

2009-11-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Elbow,

Why do you hate me?

Is it because I fell on you and broke you a little? Because if it is, you're sure holding a grudge. That was like, two months and one week ago. How long can you punish me for an accident? That's pretty unchristian of you to not forgive.

But seriously, if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd really appreciate it. It's getting a little bit aggravating to feel you EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT. of the day.

I promise I won't fall down on you again? I promise I will take care of you better? I will buy you chocolates and, um, a bouquet of carnations if you would please stop hurting.

Thank you.

Love and kisses,

ViolaSaint

*Ed. note: Due to technical difficulties, also known as me sleepily hitting "Save Now" instead of "Publish Post," this post has been retroactively added to reflect the true date of authorship. Sorry bout that.

Remember, remember the 5th of November

2009-11-05T23:44:00.000-07:00

After years of wanting and meaning to hold a Guy Fawkes Day celebration, and years of only remembering on the 6th of November, today I finally held a celebration to commemorate this infamous man.

I bought a silly little fire bowl for the backyard, and I made a terrible approximation of bangers and mash, and we ate McVitie's digestive biscuits for dessert, and it was quite fun to get together with some friends to sit around a campfire and talk.

Our effigy was decidedly a failure, as old, dry palo verde branches can be sharp and brittle. Our effigy was more like two branches tied haphazardly and loosely together in a "t" shape. Although the dry branches did go up beautifully and dramatically, some of the atmosphere was lost on the fact that the effigy was much larger than the fire bowl, and so had to be laid across-ways on top of the whole apparatus. We've learned a valuable lesson for next time in not trying to make an effigy out of dry branches, and especially not trying to do so in the dark. Next year, things will be different.

Despite the setbacks the fire was friendly and happy and marshmallow-roastable, which is really all you need for such an occasion. Well, that, and some friends that don't bring up politics for the sole purpose of getting your goat.

One goal at a time, though, right?

Words, words, words

2009-11-04T21:17:00.002-07:00

We were talking about words (among other things) tonight in class, and I wanted to put down a list of what words are and what they do for us. They are pretty amazing things.

We can explain with words.

We can exploit with words.

We can hurt with words.

We can build with words.

We can tease with words.

We can command with words.

Words are our servants.

Words are our authority.

Words give us meaning.

Words give us memory.

Words give us understanding.

Words reveal our commonalities.

Words distinguish our differences.

Words are beauty.

Words are truth.

Words are lies.

Books are words written to the unknown other.

Letters are words written to the known other.

Journals are words written to ourselves, known and unknown.

Words are our love and our power.

I sure wish I understood them better.

Babies?

2009-11-03T20:03:00.002-07:00

This evening an old roommate and her husband and their not-quite-a-year-old child came over for dinner. Loud!

Then I got a call from my friend to ask if I wanted to go on a date with her and her just-over-a-year-old daughter. Fun! Then she also told me that she's expecting another kiddo. Exciting! I get to be a godmother again.

Also this woman that is friends with my boss came into the office the other day with her two year old daughter, who ate cake and wore a cute dress. Sweet!

It's like there's children all around me suddenly, which is kind of weird for me based on my usual experience with life. I'm the youngest in my family, so it's not like I grew up with little kids around me. I work at the University, which is a pretty adult-centric place, and basically all the people I ever see in any given week are adults. When I go to the grocery store it's usually like 10 in the evening so there aren't even kids there.

So on these odd days where there are kids everywhere, it makes me wonder if I'm missing something. Or like, maybe it would be fun, or at least the thing to do, to have one of them around in my own life. Everybody else is doing it!

In other news, today while I was sitting at my desk when the mole on my cheek was suddenly itchy, so I scratched it till it felt better. I continued sitting there, doing computery things, you know, Enabling Macros and Saving As and all that jazz, leaning my head in my hand. After a while I shifted positions and moved my hand away from my face, only to find that it (my hand) was covered in blood! Turns out I had scratched my mole so hard that it opened right up and started to drain out the contents of my head onto my face. It took some creative Kleenex work and embarrassing spit-rubbing in front of my co-workers to clean myself up again. Turns out there is a reason why I keep that old, unused compact of unflatteringly-colored blush in my purse, and that is that I have a mirror to look into to assess the damage when I wilfully rip open my skin.

On second thought, I suppose it's a good thing I don't have children. I can't even trust myself to not injure myself; how could I be expected to protect other defenseless people at the same time?

Existential Crisis, or How I am a Creature of Habit

2009-11-02T18:55:00.004-07:00

I ran out of laundry detergent last week, and bought a different brand to replace it because the store I was at didn't have my usual. I did the wash last night and wore the freshly washed clothes for the first time today. This leads me to ask: Who am I? Am I not who I thought I was? What is my purpose in life? WHY DO I SMELL LIKE THIS?

I really felt incredibly awkward today as I walked around, seemingly in somebody else's aura, as if I kept on walking into rooms and sitting down in chairs just after some unknown phantom vacated the spot. I've been glancing over my shoulder all day, worried that whoever it was would come back in unexpectedly and demand to know what I was doing there before swaggering down the hall in the office, cursing loudly at the air. Although I suppose I should be glad that this didn't happen, I feel like it might have been somewhat cathartic and would have lent some sort of validation to the tenseness that I've felt all day.

Similar anguish of character has been triggered when I changed deodorants, styles of underwear, shampoos (that was a big one- I'm still not quite over it) and grocery stores.

Facts that, while true, paint a somewhat misleading picture of who I am

2009-11-01T15:32:00.000-07:00

Total runtime of the Barenaked Ladies music on my hard drive: 7 hours, 34 minutes, 59 seconds.

I graduated from college Magna Cum Laude.

I haven't really watched tv in over three years.

My job involves building websites and configuring software.

Probably more like I'm good at guessing right? I've guessed my way through many tests that make me look like I'm smarter than I really am.

2009-10-14T12:44:00.005-07:00

I got a 70% on this test. I am technologically useful, I guess?

Things I hope to do tomorrow

2009-10-11T23:47:00.002-07:00

Wake up in my backyard (98% sure this will happen)

Ride my bike! (85%)

Be less stressed at work than I have been for the past two months (50%)

Maybe have lunch? (95%)

Do something fun at the park (90%)

Not get a nosebleed (50%. My nose and the air have been fighting recently for no reason)

Eat dinner in some fashion (85%)

Eat a mini Twix bar (110%)

Fall asleep in my backyard (98%)

Guaranteed to incite reactions

2009-09-30T21:33:00.002-07:00

I don't know what it is about me, but there's some sort of aura around me that makes people behave strangely. Case in point: people in old, red jeeps.

Last week, as I was riding home from work, this young dude in an old red jeep nearly ran me over because he wasn't looking for oncoming traffic before pulling out into the road from a grocery store. No big deal, I braked, he saw me, he braked and looked sheepish as I rode past him. Standard procedure, right? Nope. He eventually did make it into the road, and as he passed me he shouted out "I'm sorry!" quite loudly and waved.

What am I supposed to think of this? People in cars don't talk to people on bikes. Unless they're whistling as they go by, or unless they personally know the biker. But ok. I accept your apology and and somewhat confused and grateful for it, I guess.

And then tonight! I was riding home from work again, wearing my work slacks all rolled up slovenly to my knees so I wouldn't get them ripped up or greasy, and I was stopped at a red light. This... female person... (too old to be a girl, too young to be a woman, too crass to be a lady) drove up into the right turn lane next to me, and started the most bizarre conversation with me that I've had in a long time. During the time she was waiting to turn right, she chastised me for not "rocking out" to Whitesnake, made inappropriately generous assumptions about who slaps my backside (and whether or not it jiggles on those occasions), mimed fellatio ("practice makes perfect!"), and asked me how much weight I've lost (what, in my lifetime? In the past three months? Since we began this conversation?). Then she just drove off, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust and bewilderment.

What is it about me that invites people to just talk to me whenever they feel like it? I'm just trying to get home so I can spend a few hours unconscious before another day of stress and hard work. Please don't talk to me.

Recess: The Revenge!

2009-09-26T00:41:00.003-07:00

Tonight I fingerpainted Kermit the Frog on a bicycle (my friend did a stunningly accurate Boba Fett and R2D2), ate Oreos and chocolate milk and Gushers and Fruit by the Foot, played Pictionary of 80's pop culture icons, sang along with Disney songs, played tetherball and four-square, and watched Muppet Treasure Island while lying on the floor on my stomach. Then I rode my bike home.

It's good to be a kid again, even if for just a few hours.

Sorry excuse for a post: somebody else's poem.

2009-09-20T22:41:00.002-07:00

One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters;

that’s our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time’s

horrible burden one which breaks your shoulders and bows

you down, you must get drunk without cease.

But with what?

With wine, poetry, or virtue

as you choose.

But get drunk.

And if, at some time, on steps of a palace,

in the green grass of a ditch,

in the bleak solitude of your room,

you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated,

ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock,

all that which flees,

all that which groans,

all that which rolls,

all that which sings,

all that which speaks,

ask them, what time it is;

and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock,

they will all reply:

“It is time to get drunk!

So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time,

get drunk, get drunk,

and never pause for rest!

With wine, poetry, or virtue,

as you choose!”

- Charles Baudelaire

Harder to do with a fractured elbow? Yes or No.

2009-09-06T23:15:00.002-07:00

Scrub the toilet: yes.
Eat with a fork: yes.
Type: no.
Use a mouse: yes.
Drive a car with manual transmission: yes.
Get to work on time: no, but don't tell my boss.
Watch silly videos on youtube: no, thank goodness.
Twist your arm about one degree in a clockwise manner: HOLY MACKEREL YES.
Brush hair, shampoo hair, scratch head: yes.
Deal with the way no pianist seems to be able to count out how long the long notes at the end of each phrase in "Be Still My Soul (Finlandia)" are IT'S FIVE BEATS PEOPLE: always hard, fractured elbow or not. I'm just grumpier about it when I'm in pain.

Why my friend Krista is All That

2009-08-25T22:56:00.002-07:00

She has a garden (usually).

She is like the other half of my brain- the more likeable, friendly half.

She loves me enough to be trusted with my most awkward moments and will listen to the things that I never tell anyone else. I don't know if she's aware of how important that is to me, but she's really the Only Person that I can actually verbalize the things that go on in my head to. Talking to her is like lying down on my favorite couch- I feel completely comfortable and don't have to worry that she'll take things the wrong way.

Also she has amazingly attractive red hair.

This is the part where I get close to having an epiphany, but don't actually have one

2009-08-20T22:26:00.003-07:00

Once upon a time, in a vain attempt to understand me and my weirdo brain, my mother asked me how I think. Which is a kind of hard-to-answer question, if you think about it. "How do you think" is about as easy to describe as "what does it feel like to breathe" or "what does blue look like." You've only ever done it one way and therefore have no basis of comparison.

The final answer that we came to was that while she (my mother) thinks in a kind of... string of words?, I think in a picture. In fact, pretty much none of my thinking happens with words anywhere attached. This explains a lot about how I act and feel in general, so I'm happy that we figured that out.

The weird thing, then, is that recently I've noticed that when I'm very tired, and in that same almost-asleep state where you dream that you're walking along a curb and suddenly fall off it, or a car drives by really close and you have to leap out of the way, and your muscles jerk around and wake you up, I've been having... word dreams. Like, not really a dream, so much as a floating persona in front of me, saying words at me. I can hear someone, my friend or relation or coworker, saying these words, these words clearly and in a kind of loud but conversational tone. Words like amorphous and defensible and caricature and baffled and leeway. The words are spoken in a string and I can recognize each word, but only after they've said about twenty words or so and I startle myself awake do I realize that they weren't actually saying sentences at all, but long strings of nice-sounding words.

I wish I understood me and my weirdo brain.

Hip hip hurray, tomorrow's the big day!

2009-07-12T10:14:00.005-07:00

Not that you've seen me around here recently anyway, but be prepared not to see me here in the next week and a half or so. Come back later for maybe a picture or two of the upcoming excitement.

From the Wikipedia entry on Erdos-Bacon Number

2009-07-02T00:03:00.000-07:00

Daniel Kleitman, a mathematician at MIT, was an advisor for the movie Good Will Hunting and appeared briefly as an uncredited extra. Minnie Driver, who appeared in that movie, also appeared in Sleepers with Kevin Bacon; as such, Kleitman's Bacon number is 2. He also coauthored a paper with Erdős. This gives him an Erdős–Bacon number of 3.

The only ways a lower number could be achieved would be:
- for an individual who had co-authored an academic paper with Paul Erdős to appear in a movie with Kevin Bacon;
- for Bacon to co-author an academic paper with someone with an Erdős number of 1, which would give Bacon an Erdős–Bacon number of 2;
- for anyone who appeared in the documentary N is a Number along with Erdős to appear in a film with Bacon, which would posthumously give Erdős an Erdős–Bacon number of 2;
- for Kevin Bacon to appear in a film that also uses stock footage of Erdős, giving Erdős an Erdős–Bacon number of 1;
- for a heretofore unknown joint academic paper by Bacon and Erdős to be published, giving Bacon an Erdős–Bacon number of 1.
- for Kevin Bacon to be revealed as Paul Erdős in disguise, giving Erdős-Bacon an Erdős-Bacon number of 0.

Why my friend Cammie is All That

2009-06-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

She's smart and she's not afraid to use it.

She tries to live sustainably but she also eats brats on a regular basis.

She is my catalyst for doing cool stuff like dancing in public, going on vacation and buying CHiPs sunglasses.

She's kind of loud.

She consents to themed dinner and a movie nights with me.

She laughs a lot.

For all her amazing qualities, she is still fallible and human.

Clearing out all my old text messages. Here's my favorites. Some of them might be interesting, but maybe some aren't that great if you aren't me.

2009-06-13T17:24:00.000-07:00

Yay for courage! -Cammie

Right. I will be there at a fish past 6:40. -Tyler

Up for some singing tonight? Beatles, baby! -Cammie

The line is sooo long, I am not standing in line for an hour for a burrito. -Richard

That's cool. I'm loafing around drinking grape juice. -Laura

We are not afraid. We shall live in peace. Deep in my heart I do believe, we shall overcome... Right?! -Isabel

*This one isn't a text at all, but a picture my Mom sent me of a shopping cart full of Mother's cookies*

Ceiling proctor is watching you fill in ur ovals. -Isabel

Really, what colors? I was getting choked by my shirt collar. -David

Isaiah 61:3. -Cammie

Have you lost your mind? -Mom

Is that a bicycle on your shirt or are you just happy to see me? -Cammie

And then I have codine for afterwards. What more does a guy need? -Killen

Or jamaica. -Tyler

I got really excited when I looked at a map! -Cammie

Woo! -Dad

Holy Middle of May, Batman

2009-05-09T22:44:00.000-07:00

Little things that need to be said

For someone not really talking about robots, Ira Glass certainly says the word "robot" a lot. Is it because his main goal in life is to narrate the innately human that robots are just kind of on his mind? Or do robots just come up in speech a lot in general? I will have to pay more attention to my own conversations and do some research.

I really need to track down a good recipe for lamb korma, because it is the food of the gods. If I was forced to eat that every day, I don't think I would mind as much as I would mind being forced to eat, say, Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Apparently Oprah has the power to bring fast food, and the population of the country, to its knees. This kind of ruined my lunch plans today. Curse you, Oprah!

I ran into my friend's house to grab something I'd left there this evening, and her roommate had some friends over as an end-of-semester type party. I was in the house no more than two minutes, just picking up my belongings and then walking back out, when one of the attendees, a person I want to describe as flamingly and outspoken-ly gay (but whom I won't describe that way because WHAT IF HE ISN'T AND I'M COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT HIM), walked up to me and started talking to me. He was talking to me in the frank and open and unnecessarily personal way that only drunk people usually talk. Since I know that no alcohol was being served at the party I must draw my own conclusion that either a) he had provided his own libations or b) he must have thought I was someone else? Anyway. He walked over to me and began talking: "Thank you. You know, I LOVE the LDS. I really do. I love them with all my heart. My first voice teacher was a bishop and I just love him. You're all great. I know I'm just playing into stereotypes, but that's how I feel." About halfway through he lightly placed his fingertips on my belly in the way that most people would place their fingertips on a person's shoulder to make a serious point, and that kind of creeped me out, like, please don't touch me, I'm not worried about catching The Gay, but what if I catch The Overly Chatty?

Also, hurrah, because I didn't work this morning and because I blew off my usual Saturday bike ride with my Dad, I was able to get some major cleaning done! Laundry: hung up! Bedroom: cleaned and vaccuumed! Bathroom: spotless! Chinchilla cage: no longer full of poop! I also finally fixed the two flat tires my bike has had for the past two weeks, just in time for the thermometer to hit the triple digits and school to let out so I will be driving to work and parking for free for the next three months. The bright side to my bike needing to be fixed is that I finally broke down and bought a pump. This means that next time I have to fix a flat I won't have to walk down to the gas station around the corner to fill up my tires, although I may do it sometimes just for the sheer thrill of walking down the alley holding a wheel in my hand.

This is how you know I should be asleep in my bed

2009-04-09T00:42:00.000-07:00

When I sit around reading forums just because I'm awake, and then laugh big, barrel-chested laughs when I find this: "Maybe spending my formative years cleaning restrooms at a fast food joint has given me a bit of bias here, but I'm fairly certain that a couch in a guy's restroom would be a heinous piece of furnature that I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole."

Also when I look long and hard at the "Monetize" tab in blogger and wonder how they intend to make my blog more like Monet's. Why is there no tab labelled Michelangelize?

Also when as I'm doing both the above things I keep looking over my shoulder because I can very plainly hear my doppelganger sneaking up behind me, timing her steps with the rhythmic sway of the washer/drier. I hear you! You think you're being sneaky and silent but I can hear your presence behind me!

Safe as Howard's End

2009-04-02T22:07:00.000-07:00

Hmm, in answer to your question, Lu, yeah, it worked in that the crocs became cleaner and the washing machine did not break. It did not work in that one of the little doohickies that keeps the strap on somehow opened up in the machine. It would have been less of a problem if I had put the doohicky back on the shoe in the correct place and snapped it back together. Unfortunately, I first had to make sure the snap thing on the doohicky still worked, and so snapped it together, unconnected to the shoe or the strap. Turns out those doohickies are dang strong and do not come apart for the WORLD. So now I have one nonworking shoe out of six. I was thinking of putting that shoe back together with an unraveled paper clip, but does anybody else have any grand ideas that are less white trash?

In other news, I've heard the term "safe as houses" twice during the past 24 hours, before which I can safely say I had never ever heard it at all, in my life. Has this always been a common phrase? Am I missing something? It isn't even that I heard it from similar sources- once was on a Shark Week episode of Mythbusters (I feel lucky that the one time I've felt like watching tv for the past, uh, three years or so, there was a Mythbusters marathon going on) and the other was spoken by Helena Bonham Carter's character in Howard's End.

Which brings me to my next point: what gives, Howard's End? I liked Where Angels Fear to Tread, I liked A Room With a View, I tried Howard's End, muscled through about half of it, failed to find the plot, and ground to a dejected halt. "I'll watch the movie," I thought. "Certainly with Emma Thompson, Helena Bonham Carter, and, oh crud, you know, that dude. The Silence of the Lambs dude. You know his name. Anthony Hopkins! Certainly with those three niftiest of actors the movie will help me understand the awesomeness of the book. The book's a classic, right?

Turns out the book is a classic in the same way that the freaking Great Gatsby is a classic: because it's kind of boring, you feel nothing for the characters, and feel a little more than vaguely annoyed when you finish and realize you can't get those hours of your life back. They are gone forever.

Ok, so I guess that the movie at least had one redeeming quality- Emma Thompson had a few really amazing outfits. There was this one grey striped dress kind of in the middle of the movie, before she got all fancy, but only just before, and it was quite beautiful. And then at some point she's wandering around the outside of a... castle thing... and wearing a really fancy gold-ish dress that you don't get to see enough of because you're mostly looking at her back in that scene.

Anyway. Back to my point.

What was my point? Where was I going with this? I guess all I really wanted to say was that the movie sucked. And I'm glad I didn't keep reading the book, if that's where it was all heading anyway. That is all.

Simple pleasures

2009-03-24T18:48:00.000-07:00

So yesterday, I did the most amazing thing! I cleaned my bedroom!

"... and underneath a dirty sock you found a hundred dollar bill?"

No. I just cleaned my room, is all. It made me feel good, so good in fact that today when I got home from work I vaccuumed it, and then I started to feel really adventurous and decided to clean my three pairs of crocs. They've been getting kind of sad and dusty, and I think it should be ok that I threw them all into the washing machine.

Please don't tell me if it's a bad idea, because it's already in progress. My roommates will be relieved, I am sure, that I didn't dump in a bunch of dish soap the way I wanted to. I thought better of it for the sake of the machine and people's clothes, and went with regular clothes detergent. Hopefully that gets them clean.

My favorite part? The amazing squeaky noises eminating from the hallway. All that wet croc material, rubbing up against itself! I love it.

Thank You, Cathartic Internets

2009-03-20T19:14:00.000-07:00

Holy mackerel, when did the internet get so funny? Maybe it's because I've spent most of this week being crushed by sadness and depression and general sitting-on-the-couch-after-work-alone time. And then today I get home from work and get on the computer at home (for the first time in a good while) and boom! People are saying all these great things!

In other words, it felt really, REALLY good to sit down and laugh out loud this afternoon. So good, in fact, that I will share the awesomeness that was our Pi Day Pi Party from last Saturday.... sometime. Tonight.

Until Then

2009-03-16T23:14:00.000-07:00

So I've been having a hard time getting motivated enough to sit down with my computer and upload the pictures on my camera (frankly, I've been having a hard time getting motivated to do anything, including opening my eyes in the mornings), and until I get that done I won't be able to tell (show) the world about my adventureful weekend. I'm very excited to tell about the great times that were had by all on Saturday, which was a holiday for the math nerd in all of us, so perhaps tomorrow I'll get up the gumption (whoa that doesn't look right at all... gumtion? gumpshun? sigh. No longer am I my own dictionary) to get the ball rolling. I am sure everyone will wait patiently until then.

No Curds or Whey Were Harmed in this Production

2009-03-10T21:05:00.000-07:00

You know that show, America's Funniest Videos? Back when Bob Saget would make the funny voices for animals and you would sit your younger self down to laugh and laugh at others' misfortunes? Yes? Ok. Let's get more specific.

You know those ones where you see this woman in her kitchen, maybe she's baking a cake, maybe she's singing along to loud music? Maybe she's baking a yellow cake with orange zest in it that will be delicious, and singing and dancing while using the mixer because all her roommates are out and she can be as obnoxious as she wants while alone in the apartment? And then you see someone sneak up behind her with a fake spider on a fishing pole and lowers it down until it's about an inch from her eyebrows and she jumps three feet in the air and screams bloody murder?

Yeah, that just happened to me, except it was a Freaking Real Spider coming down from the ceiling, no fishing pole involved. Boy am I glad there was no one around to see that or capture it on an old 90's camcorder to send in to Bob Saget.

My Life is a Spelling Bee and I'm Winning

2009-03-06T12:53:00.000-07:00

Last night as I was getting ready for bed my roommate popped her head in the door.

"Hey ViolaSaint, how do you spell mediocre?"

I told her, she said thanks, and walked back to her room.

This morning I was sitting at my desk and doing something or other, you know, working, and my phone rang. Looking at my caller ID, I saw it was my boss' cell phone. This is not uncommon, as he frequently disappears to meetings and otherwise walks around campus for hours at a time, meeting with people from everywhere and generally Getting Stuff Done. I picked up the phone.

"ViolaSaint! How do you spell cabbage?"

I let him know how to spell cabbage, he said ok, and hung up.

What the heck, folks? I know I'm very dependable as a dictionary and thesaurus, and so I'm handy to have around, but usually my services aren't needed twice within the same twelve hour period. Also, why in the world did my boss need to know how to spell cabbage? I can think of myriad reasons for my roommate to use the word mediocre, but cabbage? Really?

On an unrelated note, I dislike jogging about as much as I like sitting around talking and laughing with friends

2009-03-02T22:57:00.001-07:00

So we got a new roommate recently (ok, so maybe it was a month or so ago by now), which means no more filling up the whole closet of clothes, no more naked time after showers, and no more falling asleep to weird music on the iPod for me. Which are all sad things to be without.

On the plus side, she's very nice and likes to laugh and likes to make other people laugh. She's easy to get along with, and thus far hasn't complained about anything I do, although I'm sure there are things to complain about.

My new favorite thing about the newbie roomie, the favorite thing that I just discovered this afternoon upon returning home from work, is that she is secretly Witch Hazel.

Yes, beneath that skinny, pretty, blonde exterior is a giggling, fat green witch with high-heeled boots. How do I know this? Simple. She leaves a little scattering of bobby pins all over the floor, whenever she (apparently) jumps onto her broom to fly off for the evening.

I'm not sure if the bobby pins will ever annoy or otherwise upset me, but for now it just makes me laugh, imagining her cackling and getting ready to split a hare with her big ol' cleaver.

Reasons I love the internet in general

2009-02-22T01:25:00.000-07:00

And youtube in particular.

Here's a reason.

Here's another.

I guess these also might be reasons why I love Russians as well?

BIG... CLOSE TO EVERYTHING...

2009-02-20T23:57:00.000-07:00

I once had a set of roommates that had this annoying habit. If they found something funny or otherwise entertaining, they would laugh for a few moments and then declare that they "almost peed [their] pants! Really!"

I think this bothered me mostly because hello, we are adults now and it is unnecessary and undistinguished to talk about pee. It annoyed me in the same way the whole "I just threw up a little in my mouth" thing annoyed me for a few years there where Everyone was saying it All The Time.

That being said, this McSweeney's List caught me so offguard that, well, you know. The rapidfire hilarity of the seventh and eighth entries is what really got me. And you know, I read these lists for the exact reason that I expect them to be funny. Somehow that one just really hit the right spot for me. Thank you, Eric Feezell.

Thoughts on Hoboes

2009-02-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

Discussion with my roommate: who has the moral upperhand? Hoboes or office drones? What is the American Dream, and is it different from the American Ideology? I contend that the American Dream is to get your money for nothing and your chicks for free, and that the American Ideology is that if the Dream doesn't come true, you will always be able to get the money if you just work hard enough. Being a hobo is the Dream, and the protestant work ethic is the backup. Eh?

On hoboes: My roommate couldn't be one for moral and also for hygienic reasons. She thinks she would not like to smell bad. I don't think I would mind, and that puts me in mind of the idea of pheromones. Are they real? Do they actually work, and if so, how? If you were in a room with a bunch of people, how would your Jacobsen's organ know which person was emitting the good pheromones? Is that the reason why people go on dates, is to cross-check in a number of situations and make sure that the pheromones remain constant? Could a person effectively mooch off a friend's irresistibility by never being separated from them? This seems a tricky business.

Also on hoboes: man, I'd like to be one. And barring that, I wish I could at least see one. I have always watched passing trains diligently when stopped at the crossing, hoping to see one of the majestic dying breed. Hoboes make me think of wheat fields and the Rootabaga Stories and why is there such a rich hobo tradition in our culture if hoboism is not the American Dream?

Bums vs. hoboes: what is the difference? I feel like there is something naturally inferior about bums, like maybe because they stay in the same place it's proven that they've simply got problems and can't afford or otherwise manage having a home. Hoboes, on the other hand, just have places to go, and keeping a home would be logistically a bad idea when they've constantly needing to be in different places. Hoboes are maybe bums with a purpose?

At one point, written on the wall of the music building on campus there was a message: no oboe can compare with the music of the soul, or something along those lines. Although it was happy and good-natured graffiti that made my day brighten every time I saw it, I also felt the urge to graffito the graffiti to read, no hoboe can compare with the music of the soul. I feel like defacement of state property can always be improved, and often without too much effort or added visual impact. One little letter could have changed a simpering hippie sentiment into a real good chuckle for the students, musicians and hoboes alike who used that building.

This Moment is Accounted For

2009-02-14T00:12:00.000-07:00

I'm currently in the middle of what I will call, for lack of a better term, a time audit. At the suggestion of the Austenite, I've created an excel file that has a running tally of every hour (it's actually accurate to five minutes, sort of) of my day. During the past three days, I've spent around 25 hours at work, 21 hours asleep, and close to 9 hours have been marked as "social," which basically means sitting around talking to roommates and/or watching movies with folks. I've spent between 2 and 3 hours each on exercise, computer time, and bathing, with service taking the smallest chunk of time at an hour and a half. I'm kind of adding categories as they come up, and although I had kind of planned on needing a "sinning" category for the hours I couldn't figure out what I was doing during the day (and thus must obviously have been sinning) I have so far been pretty good about marking stuff often enough that my time is all accounted for at the end of each day.

I'm kind of looking forward to analyzing everything at the end of the week to see what I can improve on (prediction: sleep more, spend less time on the computer). I was recently listening to an old This American Life about a guy who makes lists and tallies of everything he does every day for the past like 40 years, and I thought, "gee. I could be that guy, except I'd have statistical data for how long I did stuff for!" Obviously I need more sleep.

Time for Lunchtime Musings!

2009-02-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

Which is worse: the fact that the lady who used to sit at my current desk spilled coffee down the front of it SOMETIME IN THE PAST and never cleaned it up, or the fact that I noticed it last week and I still haven't cleaned it up?

Followup question: does it matter?

Maybe I'll sit on the couch all day and watch movies

2009-02-05T13:36:00.001-07:00

Two nights ago I was happily sitting and watching an old movie with my roommate and a friend, and something in the movie made me laugh. Not because it was meant to be funny, but something dated the movie, maybe it was when the leading lady was supposed to be crying but instead it looked like she had snorted a handful of pepper?

Anyway. So I started laughing too hard and choked on a little blob of misplaced spit, and suddenly I was coughing and couldn't stop, and then when I did stop, I still had to cough every couple of minutes for the rest of the evening. Weird, huh?

Then the next day I *still* had to cough every couple of minutes, all through the day at work, and on top of that my neck and back were really achey and sore, and then as I rode my bike home my throat hurt so bad from the breathing and the coughing and the achiness that I almost gave up halfway through my commute to live in the park for the rest of my life. And then I realized that I was sick, that I caught whatever it is that my roommate was home with.

While I was at work still, I went in the bathroom and looked down my throat in the mirror to see what I could see. Which is really silly, because I've never been one of those people who can look into a throat and see that the tonsils are too big, or whatever. I have some friends who can do that, but to be honest, when I look into my throat all I see is a bunch of flesh. I could have an alien life form nestled in there and I would never know.

So I went home at the end of the day and made myself and my roommate some chicken noodle soup which was pretty amazing, considering the fact that I could barely roll out the dough for the noodles without sitting down for a rest in the middle.

I'm finally starting to be congested today, but the achiness is starting to go away. It's like having a cold... in reverse! Starting with the weak, lingering cough, then the achey muscles, now the snot. In a few hours I'll probably start sneezing, and by tomorrow morning I'll be better!