Gary Busey
Falun Gong
Vic DiCara
Bling Cross
Bling Cross Bikini
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Things It's Maybe Not OK to do at Work?
Eat a chewy bagel that must be ripped apart with the teeth, at the front desk
Spread cream cheese with the index finger
Stare blankly at blond freshman when she asks a dumb question, inwardly stick a pin in the freshman voodoo doll
Hope the staff meeting lasts longer than expected in order to thwart students wanting to see their advisors
Realize that thwarting students would really only create more problems, scratch that last one
Watch the phone ring a few times before answering in order to avoid the appearance of eagerness/ lack of more important things to do
Take unattractively large bites of bagel because no one is watching
Write about it on my blog
Spread cream cheese with the index finger
Stare blankly at blond freshman when she asks a dumb question, inwardly stick a pin in the freshman voodoo doll
Hope the staff meeting lasts longer than expected in order to thwart students wanting to see their advisors
Realize that thwarting students would really only create more problems, scratch that last one
Watch the phone ring a few times before answering in order to avoid the appearance of eagerness/ lack of more important things to do
Take unattractively large bites of bagel because no one is watching
Write about it on my blog
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I would say that Hell had frozen over, but that's way too cliche
Here we go, proof that all that stuff about "global warming" is a complete fallacy.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Actual Word-for-word Descriptions of my Hair's Personality
Like a dancer
Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz
Irish Whore
A 1940's Starlet
Wild Woman of Borneo
Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz
Irish Whore
A 1940's Starlet
Wild Woman of Borneo
Ironically, we'd thought about it, too
This comes from kottke.org, also known as "that one site I go to when there's nothing else to do at work."
I want to donate my own water buffalo! If I only had the money...
I want to donate my own water buffalo! If I only had the money...
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
I Remember
Today I rediscovered why I like my field of study. It is not because I like helping people. I'm too lazy for that. It is not because I like to understand why people do stuff. I enjoy ignorance a lot, actually.
The real reason why I love my major is that I can start the day off with a good dose of emotionally moving, nigh-spiritual instruction (in this case watching an episode of Eyes on the Prize, the part about Birmingham and the water hoses and police dogs and the march on Washington), and wrap the day up with a lighthearted and pretty non-sacred look at world religions (today my prof. said enthusiastically, "Step one! Go out and find an innocent virgin so you can slaughter her and spill her fertile blood on the ground").
And really, that's what sociology is all about: diversity. The diversity of human experience is something I find fascinating, especially when you see all the stuff that we do have in common. That is probably why I wanted to slap my business major friend who bragged that he had graduated without ever having taken a class on diversity in the workplace. That, and because he qualified that statement with the reason that "women are the cause of all sorrow, so much more so women in business."
The real reason why I love my major is that I can start the day off with a good dose of emotionally moving, nigh-spiritual instruction (in this case watching an episode of Eyes on the Prize, the part about Birmingham and the water hoses and police dogs and the march on Washington), and wrap the day up with a lighthearted and pretty non-sacred look at world religions (today my prof. said enthusiastically, "Step one! Go out and find an innocent virgin so you can slaughter her and spill her fertile blood on the ground").
And really, that's what sociology is all about: diversity. The diversity of human experience is something I find fascinating, especially when you see all the stuff that we do have in common. That is probably why I wanted to slap my business major friend who bragged that he had graduated without ever having taken a class on diversity in the workplace. That, and because he qualified that statement with the reason that "women are the cause of all sorrow, so much more so women in business."
Monday, January 8, 2007
#35: Show Some Skin!
Huzzah, my first MightyGirl-inspired post! I figured I'd go in chronological order here, just to keep things organized.
Here we have my face. More specifically, the barely noticable (in the picture) pock mark a little bit above my eyebrow, exactly parallel to the dark part of my eyeball. This is from when I was four and had the chicken pox. We flew to Missouri (why? because we're crazy!), and my mother put a giant floppy hat on me so the stewardesses wouldn't notice and eject the plague-ridden four year old from the plane. I don't remember having the pox, but I do remember the flight. It didn't occur to my four year old mind that the plane landed in a different place than it took off from. I thought we simply went on an hours-long joyride through the sky for fun, and came back to the same airport.
This scar comes from not too long after the pox, maybe around five or six years old. We lived on a cul-de-sac, close to the opening, and down towards the other end was a single man with an immaculate lawn. He owned a spazzy little dog, a basenji named Bordeaux. Bordeaux was always chained up in the front yard, and when I would ride by on my big wheel, his owner would step on the chain to keep him from chasing after me down the sidewalk. One day, as I rode by, I decided that I could get by without waiting for my neighbor to step on the chain. I was wrong.
One of the neighbor ladies saw the attack, and swooped me up and carried my bleeding self to my house where my mother laid me on the floor by the front door and wrapped my arm in a towel. When we got to the hospital, I was pretty tired and cranky (and hurting). All I remember about getting the stitches is that the doctor kept calling me "Punkin" which annoyed me a little. But he was piecing my body back together, so I really had no room to complain.
Ah, the obligatory appendectomy. Mine happened when I was ten. I was sick for a week, and we thought I just had the flu or something. Once my mom realized that my whining was really too much just for the flu, we went to urgent care. They didn't know what it was. They sent us to the hospital. They thought they might know, but to make sure we should go to the other hospital. Cue the drive across town in the middle of the stinking night, moaning child lying across the back seat, writhing in agony. Finally, like ten hours after we initially went to seek medical help, they found out what it was. It was appendicitis. Or rather, it had been appendicitis until a few days before, when it turned into a ruptured appendix. For the longest time, nobody could tell what was wrong with me, then suddenly I'm sitting in the hallway and some tech comes up to us and tells us he's there to get me ready for surgery. Let me tell you, I wasn't happy about that. However, I was very happy after the surgery when I was introduced to the pediatric ward's rolling nintendo machine.
You'll have to use your imagination for this one, because you can't actually see a scar here. What you can see, roughly, is my eye. Sometime between late middle school years and early high school years, I had a picnic with my family in the park that adjoins the high school. One of my favorite things to do in parks, to this day, is to swing on the swings, and I did that happily during that picnic. A few days? weeks? after that evening, I noticed that there was a little brown spot on my eye that wasn't going away, that I couldn't wash off, that didn't feel like some dirt stuck on my eyeball. I watched it for a few days and when it continued in not disappearing, we again went to urgent care. They tried washing it out a few times, then referred me to an opthamologist who told me a tiny shard of metal had gotten into my eye and rusted there. We figured it must've come from the swings, then moved to the more important matter: how to get rid of it? It proved to be a most interesting experience, as the doctor got a tiny little drill and some blue eyedrops out, and proceded to grind away part of my eye. It is incredibly hard to sit still and not blink when a man is right up in your face, grinding away your eye with a drill. It didn't hurt, but it definately wasn't my idea of a fun way to spend the day. I did get to wear an eyepatch to church, though, which made up for the whole ordeal.
Here we have my face. More specifically, the barely noticable (in the picture) pock mark a little bit above my eyebrow, exactly parallel to the dark part of my eyeball. This is from when I was four and had the chicken pox. We flew to Missouri (why? because we're crazy!), and my mother put a giant floppy hat on me so the stewardesses wouldn't notice and eject the plague-ridden four year old from the plane. I don't remember having the pox, but I do remember the flight. It didn't occur to my four year old mind that the plane landed in a different place than it took off from. I thought we simply went on an hours-long joyride through the sky for fun, and came back to the same airport.
This scar comes from not too long after the pox, maybe around five or six years old. We lived on a cul-de-sac, close to the opening, and down towards the other end was a single man with an immaculate lawn. He owned a spazzy little dog, a basenji named Bordeaux. Bordeaux was always chained up in the front yard, and when I would ride by on my big wheel, his owner would step on the chain to keep him from chasing after me down the sidewalk. One day, as I rode by, I decided that I could get by without waiting for my neighbor to step on the chain. I was wrong.
One of the neighbor ladies saw the attack, and swooped me up and carried my bleeding self to my house where my mother laid me on the floor by the front door and wrapped my arm in a towel. When we got to the hospital, I was pretty tired and cranky (and hurting). All I remember about getting the stitches is that the doctor kept calling me "Punkin" which annoyed me a little. But he was piecing my body back together, so I really had no room to complain.
Ah, the obligatory appendectomy. Mine happened when I was ten. I was sick for a week, and we thought I just had the flu or something. Once my mom realized that my whining was really too much just for the flu, we went to urgent care. They didn't know what it was. They sent us to the hospital. They thought they might know, but to make sure we should go to the other hospital. Cue the drive across town in the middle of the stinking night, moaning child lying across the back seat, writhing in agony. Finally, like ten hours after we initially went to seek medical help, they found out what it was. It was appendicitis. Or rather, it had been appendicitis until a few days before, when it turned into a ruptured appendix. For the longest time, nobody could tell what was wrong with me, then suddenly I'm sitting in the hallway and some tech comes up to us and tells us he's there to get me ready for surgery. Let me tell you, I wasn't happy about that. However, I was very happy after the surgery when I was introduced to the pediatric ward's rolling nintendo machine.
You'll have to use your imagination for this one, because you can't actually see a scar here. What you can see, roughly, is my eye. Sometime between late middle school years and early high school years, I had a picnic with my family in the park that adjoins the high school. One of my favorite things to do in parks, to this day, is to swing on the swings, and I did that happily during that picnic. A few days? weeks? after that evening, I noticed that there was a little brown spot on my eye that wasn't going away, that I couldn't wash off, that didn't feel like some dirt stuck on my eyeball. I watched it for a few days and when it continued in not disappearing, we again went to urgent care. They tried washing it out a few times, then referred me to an opthamologist who told me a tiny shard of metal had gotten into my eye and rusted there. We figured it must've come from the swings, then moved to the more important matter: how to get rid of it? It proved to be a most interesting experience, as the doctor got a tiny little drill and some blue eyedrops out, and proceded to grind away part of my eye. It is incredibly hard to sit still and not blink when a man is right up in your face, grinding away your eye with a drill. It didn't hurt, but it definately wasn't my idea of a fun way to spend the day. I did get to wear an eyepatch to church, though, which made up for the whole ordeal.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Pretty Confused and a Little Freaked Out
Um, commenter on my last post, would you please make yourself known? Like, could you call me up on my phone and tell me, "Hi violasaint, it's me, [your name here], and I commented on your blog the other day?"
And now to other news, I got a book for Christmas! A special, green book, with a picture of french fries on it. That's right, I got Maggie Mason's big book on blogging. I'm very excited, and intend to begin using it... tonight?
That is, if you're lucky.
And now to other news, I got a book for Christmas! A special, green book, with a picture of french fries on it. That's right, I got Maggie Mason's big book on blogging. I'm very excited, and intend to begin using it... tonight?
That is, if you're lucky.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Hallelujah!
This brief interlude to say that sometime between 8:30 and 10:30 this morning, while I went back to bed after eating oatmeal way too early for comfort, my amazing father gave my computer a talking-to and I can now both read and post to my blog from my computer.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Hola Mi Amigos!
I've really enjoyed this past week or so, even though it was tainted by having a nasty cold for the majority of the week. The cold has pretty much gone and left a lingering cough in its place, and I chalk up the quickness of the cold's retreat to zinc.
Zinc! I praise thee and thy strangely good-tasting orange flavor. The best part is that because I got the tablet kind and not the nose-spray kind, I didn't lose my sense of smell, as I've heard is possible with zinc nose spray.
Tonight was date night, and we made a lovely dinner of ham and mashed potatoes and green beans and time-pressed rolls that were delicious, and homemade peanut brittle and also some brownies. I rather like doing date night- it's always very friendly, and I just realized it's kind of a grown-up thing to do. Dinner party with civilized conversation and ham, you know. Well, until Roommate X's boyfriend started dancing. I guess it seems more civilized and grown-up because we're all generally still in our Sunday clothes. After dinner we trooped up to the north side of town to see the live nativity scene put on by the church. It was fun to go as a big group and bring my very long blanket to share with my four closest friends, sitting outside in the (relative) cold night air. We played a Mannheim Steamroller cd on the way back home, and played cards for awhile.
Tomorrow I get to help cement details of Hunca Munca's bridal shower this week, doing things like buying blue crepe paper and cutting out snowflakes to decorate the house, making sure people know where and when it is, etc. I'm looking forward to it, and have already purchased four bottles of Martinelli's. I love Martinelli's almost as much as I love parties. Perhaps more.
Zinc! I praise thee and thy strangely good-tasting orange flavor. The best part is that because I got the tablet kind and not the nose-spray kind, I didn't lose my sense of smell, as I've heard is possible with zinc nose spray.
Tonight was date night, and we made a lovely dinner of ham and mashed potatoes and green beans and time-pressed rolls that were delicious, and homemade peanut brittle and also some brownies. I rather like doing date night- it's always very friendly, and I just realized it's kind of a grown-up thing to do. Dinner party with civilized conversation and ham, you know. Well, until Roommate X's boyfriend started dancing. I guess it seems more civilized and grown-up because we're all generally still in our Sunday clothes. After dinner we trooped up to the north side of town to see the live nativity scene put on by the church. It was fun to go as a big group and bring my very long blanket to share with my four closest friends, sitting outside in the (relative) cold night air. We played a Mannheim Steamroller cd on the way back home, and played cards for awhile.
Tomorrow I get to help cement details of Hunca Munca's bridal shower this week, doing things like buying blue crepe paper and cutting out snowflakes to decorate the house, making sure people know where and when it is, etc. I'm looking forward to it, and have already purchased four bottles of Martinelli's. I love Martinelli's almost as much as I love parties. Perhaps more.
Monday, December 4, 2006
Could it be possible?
I've found something that makes me feel antagonistic toward one of my four favorite roommates. This thing? Politics.
Up until now, I've never really had any kind of problem with any roommate ever. As in, like, I have never felt in opposition to anything they have said or done, ever (except for that one time when I almost murdered my roommate because she beat me at a movie trivia game?). This is in accordance with the incredible patience that spontaneously sprouted from my heart when I moved from home.
Back to the point at hand, though. Somehow, I've realized that I really do have pretty firm opinions about politics and government, and I've come to understand that idea of how you're not supposed to talk politics with friends. Because, a sociological perspective of politics and government is very different from a... lawyerly perspective. Except I think her perspective is also a little different from the more common lawyer's perspective. In any case, we disagree, and since she has a stronger personality than me, and is better at asserting her opinion, she always comes out seeming smarter and more credible than me. This makes me very upset, because I know that my opinion is just as credible and sensible as hers is, but she never seems to see my point, and then I think unChristian thoughts about her, like thinking that she is stubborn and wrong.
I must needs learn to be less upsettable and less emotionally involved in such discussions.
Up until now, I've never really had any kind of problem with any roommate ever. As in, like, I have never felt in opposition to anything they have said or done, ever (except for that one time when I almost murdered my roommate because she beat me at a movie trivia game?). This is in accordance with the incredible patience that spontaneously sprouted from my heart when I moved from home.
Back to the point at hand, though. Somehow, I've realized that I really do have pretty firm opinions about politics and government, and I've come to understand that idea of how you're not supposed to talk politics with friends. Because, a sociological perspective of politics and government is very different from a... lawyerly perspective. Except I think her perspective is also a little different from the more common lawyer's perspective. In any case, we disagree, and since she has a stronger personality than me, and is better at asserting her opinion, she always comes out seeming smarter and more credible than me. This makes me very upset, because I know that my opinion is just as credible and sensible as hers is, but she never seems to see my point, and then I think unChristian thoughts about her, like thinking that she is stubborn and wrong.
I must needs learn to be less upsettable and less emotionally involved in such discussions.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
December: the new November
Last night was a good night. Not only did I get to be all prettied up and eat a fancy dinner and dance with my friends, but I saw somebody that I haven't seen for awhile, and wasn't expecting to see. It made me happy, and we got to talk a little bit about this and that. I very much enjoyed myself. Great way to spend the last friday before finals start, I'd say.
Speaking of December (real smooth there, wasn't I?), I'm thinking maybe I'll include in every post this month something I'd like to have in my life. You know, for all those people who want desperately to buy me something for Christmas, but aren't sure what to get. Here you go,another gift idea.
Speaking of December (real smooth there, wasn't I?), I'm thinking maybe I'll include in every post this month something I'd like to have in my life. You know, for all those people who want desperately to buy me something for Christmas, but aren't sure what to get. Here you go,another gift idea.
Friday, December 1, 2006
Two posts in one day! Too bad it isn't November anymore.
Today, while walking around campus for work, delivering mail, I saw the following individuals;
1. A cute little girl, running around, playing on the mall and being precocious.
2. Some guy sitting outside the student union, eating McDonald's, with about a hundred little brown birds sitting all around him on the ground, on the other chairs at the table, and even on the table itself, about a foot away from his food. I don't know if he's like some bird whisperer, or if maybe he was feeding them crumbs, or if the birds just went crazy en masse, but it was a noteworthy scene that I wish I had had my camera for.
3. Santa Claus. He took a picture with a bunch of sorority girls, then continued on his jolly way.
1. A cute little girl, running around, playing on the mall and being precocious.
2. Some guy sitting outside the student union, eating McDonald's, with about a hundred little brown birds sitting all around him on the ground, on the other chairs at the table, and even on the table itself, about a foot away from his food. I don't know if he's like some bird whisperer, or if maybe he was feeding them crumbs, or if the birds just went crazy en masse, but it was a noteworthy scene that I wish I had had my camera for.
3. Santa Claus. He took a picture with a bunch of sorority girls, then continued on his jolly way.
Happy December, Yo
I just realized that my first final is only four days away.
Where has the time gone! I really enjoy the middle of the semester, cause it's just the plugging away part, you don't have to immediately worry about your grades, because you still have more to do. The end of the semester may be fun because you get many days of nothing, with one or two days of high stress, but I find it a little disorienting. Like, who am I? Who is this person who has to write exams? Who is this person who's lying around the house at weird hours of the day because she has nothing better to do?
Vacation time is pretty disconcerting. Except Christmas is nice, because you get to eat cookies and obtain gifts from people. Gifts like these, for instance. Or perhaps this.
Where has the time gone! I really enjoy the middle of the semester, cause it's just the plugging away part, you don't have to immediately worry about your grades, because you still have more to do. The end of the semester may be fun because you get many days of nothing, with one or two days of high stress, but I find it a little disorienting. Like, who am I? Who is this person who has to write exams? Who is this person who's lying around the house at weird hours of the day because she has nothing better to do?
Vacation time is pretty disconcerting. Except Christmas is nice, because you get to eat cookies and obtain gifts from people. Gifts like these, for instance. Or perhaps this.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Still Singing Newsies
Today has been a good day. I went to work, fooled around and ate a bagel, froze as I ran errands for the office, went to class, got out early, came home, wrote a paper, went shoe shopping (and was successful!), ate a delicious dinner prepared by my roommate, went to class again, came home and was entertained by the dancing antics of my roommate's boyfriend, watched Newsies again while having my hair straightened in possible preparation for the formal tomorrow. We'll see if it remains un-greasy enough to warrant letting it stay straightened and unwashed. However, with such a full day, I'm pretty exhausted, and I need my beauty sleep because tomorrow's also going to be a full day.
I must get up early to write another paper, go to work and school till five, then go home to try and make myself look pretty, go out to dinner with my date (I know, I have such a hard life), plus dance. A tortured soul, I am.
I think I may sleep in on Saturday, though.
This being the last day of November, I feel like I should remark somewhat on the NaBloPoMo experience. I'm amazingly proud of myself for missing only one day, and I feel like I managed for maybe 3/4 of the time to write something worthwhile, or at least interesting. As my readers, you may feel differently. We'll see. I kind of liked having a reason to look back on my day, though, and reflect upon what I do with my life, even if the results weren't very user friendly. I almost definately will not keep up writing every day from now on, but perhaps I shall do it more often than in the past, as it's a good way to sort out all the messy thoughts that clutter up my brain. It's been a good November.
Here's to December, being non-stressful (please?) and fun and full of holiday cheer.
I must get up early to write another paper, go to work and school till five, then go home to try and make myself look pretty, go out to dinner with my date (I know, I have such a hard life), plus dance. A tortured soul, I am.
I think I may sleep in on Saturday, though.
This being the last day of November, I feel like I should remark somewhat on the NaBloPoMo experience. I'm amazingly proud of myself for missing only one day, and I feel like I managed for maybe 3/4 of the time to write something worthwhile, or at least interesting. As my readers, you may feel differently. We'll see. I kind of liked having a reason to look back on my day, though, and reflect upon what I do with my life, even if the results weren't very user friendly. I almost definately will not keep up writing every day from now on, but perhaps I shall do it more often than in the past, as it's a good way to sort out all the messy thoughts that clutter up my brain. It's been a good November.
Here's to December, being non-stressful (please?) and fun and full of holiday cheer.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Consumed by Shame, Again
I can't believe I missed a day! And so very very close to the end of the month, too! I am really too upset by this to actually say how much I am upset by this.
But such is life. I've been on a slight musical kick the past two days. Last night I randomly picked Guys and Dolls off the bookshelf and started watching it all by myself. By the end of the movie, most of my roommates were out there watching with me, one of whom had never before seen it (!). I am very glad we watched it. And then all day today I was humming the songs. That is, until I borrowed Newsies from a friend, and we watched that. Tomorrow, and tonight, I will be singing "open the gates and seize the day; don't wait around and don't delay! Nothing will break us, no one can make us give our rights away. Oh coooome aaaand seeeeeize thuhhh daaaaaay!"
Who knew that I'd be asked to watch a disney musical for a sociology class? But really, it makes total sense; unions and labor relations and all that. Very Marxian.
But such is life. I've been on a slight musical kick the past two days. Last night I randomly picked Guys and Dolls off the bookshelf and started watching it all by myself. By the end of the movie, most of my roommates were out there watching with me, one of whom had never before seen it (!). I am very glad we watched it. And then all day today I was humming the songs. That is, until I borrowed Newsies from a friend, and we watched that. Tomorrow, and tonight, I will be singing "open the gates and seize the day; don't wait around and don't delay! Nothing will break us, no one can make us give our rights away. Oh coooome aaaand seeeeeize thuhhh daaaaaay!"
Who knew that I'd be asked to watch a disney musical for a sociology class? But really, it makes total sense; unions and labor relations and all that. Very Marxian.
Monday, November 27, 2006
*Whimper*
I'ma warn you all now, so you're not surprised. I have four papers due in the next four days.
In other words, I will not be writing a lot of stuff here during the coming week. I'm sorry, because I know how much you all love hearing the tedium of my life in general. Don't worry, though- I'll be back and better than ever, in maybe, seven days from today. Because I just remembered the term paper that's due on Monday, as well. That's five papers in a week. I know I'm a wimp, but you'll just have to suck it up and wait out my busy spell.
In other words, I will not be writing a lot of stuff here during the coming week. I'm sorry, because I know how much you all love hearing the tedium of my life in general. Don't worry, though- I'll be back and better than ever, in maybe, seven days from today. Because I just remembered the term paper that's due on Monday, as well. That's five papers in a week. I know I'm a wimp, but you'll just have to suck it up and wait out my busy spell.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
I'd Like to Buy the World a Coke
But barring that, it's also fun to make the world some cookies, and keep it company. Tonight we mixed up a batch of peanut butter cookie dough, and trundled off to three of our favorite guys' houses, spending about twenty minutes at each house. Twenty is about the right amount of time to stick the cookies into the oven and bake them, take them out, let them cool, and most importantly, visit with the person the oven belongs to. I highly recommend this practice, as it's much more friendly than doorbell ditching pre-baked cookies, and you get to randomly surprise people by showing up on their doorstep with a trayful of cookie blobs. Who wouldn't want to open their front door and find friends and food standing on the other side?
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