Yikes, 2007 is almost over and so now it is time to evaluate the end of the year and look forward to the next one. There were a lot of things I didn't do, so this year, the To-Do List is going to have a deadline. I am going to try to achieve all of the things on The List by the end of the year. Yup, that's right. Before 2009. See the new list to the right and wish me luck!
(In other news, the car search is over! I found and bought a used 1999 Jetta. After a 5 minute tutorial on how to drive stick, many attempts out on the road by myself, and quite a few scary moments, I now consider myself an expert driver of the vehicle and I love it. Hooray!)
Monday 31 December 2007
Wednesday 28 November 2007
Survey
I'd say the number one response I have gotten from the previous post is everyone I know laughing at the words "junking out." I was told that "pigging out" is more common in American slang. This was interesting to me, because I am pretty sure I have used "junking out", "junked out", and "junk out" to express the concept of over-eating junk food my entire life. So, I ran a completely unscientific poll of my friends and random people I work with to determine what they thought on the matter.
Only 2 out of 7 people expressed that they had never heard of the terms junking out unprompted
The other 5 people did not question the term junking out until the topic was raised by the surveyer.
7 out of 7 people eventually expressed that junking out is not a common phrase in the English language.
1 out of 7 people surveyed say things like "Hog Heaven" in daily conversation.
I felt like the results to this survey were inconclusive, so I then researched it on the internet. Wikipedia has no entry for this combination of the words "junk" and "out". Urban Dictionary also does not have an entry. After striking out on those two sources, I gave up.
Turns out, junking out must only be something my family uses/does. I find it more PC than pigging out-- I wouldn't want the local swine to get a complex regarding their consumption habits, would you?
In other news, I left my computer power cord at my parents house, so my novel will have to be finished in December. Also, it has been determined that the internet on my computer is indeed different than the internet on the computer I am using right now. I am serious. It really really is.
Only 2 out of 7 people expressed that they had never heard of the terms junking out unprompted
The other 5 people did not question the term junking out until the topic was raised by the surveyer.
7 out of 7 people eventually expressed that junking out is not a common phrase in the English language.
1 out of 7 people surveyed say things like "Hog Heaven" in daily conversation.
I felt like the results to this survey were inconclusive, so I then researched it on the internet. Wikipedia has no entry for this combination of the words "junk" and "out". Urban Dictionary also does not have an entry. After striking out on those two sources, I gave up.
Turns out, junking out must only be something my family uses/does. I find it more PC than pigging out-- I wouldn't want the local swine to get a complex regarding their consumption habits, would you?
In other news, I left my computer power cord at my parents house, so my novel will have to be finished in December. Also, it has been determined that the internet on my computer is indeed different than the internet on the computer I am using right now. I am serious. It really really is.
Sunday 25 November 2007
Junking Out and Gripes of Odd People
Some of you may know the terms "junking out" to mean: stuff your face until you feel sick to your stomach with the most unhealthy, over-processed foods available on the Planet Earth. My mom thinks it means eating half a box of whole wheat crackers with hummus. Or, on another day, it could be eating 2 slices of whole-grain bread with olive oil. True story.
The point of that little nugget of information about my mom is that she is a weirdo. Not in the sense of the creepy-lady-who-lives-next-door-and-you-are-afraid-to-eat-the-cookies-
she-baked-herself kind of weirdo, but the a-little-off-her-rocker-yet-she-looks-so-hip-and-young-and-I-don't-know-
what-to-think weirdo.
Anyway, my mom sends me ideas of what to post here and the latest two ideas she told me I should write about in a post called "Gripes of Odd People or something."
I read her gripes, and I thought they were worth noting:
Gripe Number 1: Baggers at the grocery store.
You know those earth-friendly reusable bags you can now purchase for about a dollar or so at the grocery store? Well, my mom bought a few of those so she could do her part in saving our glorious planet and at the end of one of her latest trips to the grocery store she whipped those bad boys out only for them to be filled with just a few items. So, my mom posed the question to me (and all of you) about why bother with these eco-friendly bags when they are only going to fill them part-way? And maybe, baggers need to go through more extensive training. Here are my thoughts:
Yes, mom, you are absolutely correct. There is no point in filling a reusable earth friendly bag only half full just as there is no reason to plant only half a tree (just trunk, no leaves) or write only half a novel. As for baggers not having enough training? Hmm.. Let me ponder this one a bit more. I am sure that the 16 year old boy who lives in Winchester and works at the Shaw's and makes minimum wage would be happy to spend his Sunday night not watching Blade Runner in his friend's basement but learning the art of bagging groceries. I am sure this young chap would find it such a useful skill, much more important than how to post a successful Onion personal ad. But, if it were the case that they gave extra training on how to properly bag groceries, I do hope they mention that heavy items should go on the bottom, and bread should go on the top. It always frosts my cookies when I find smushed bread under a can of tomatoes in my pink (yup, my reusable tote is not only earth friendly, but the dollar spent on it went to cancer research) eco-bag.
Gripe number 2: Lack of garbage receptacles in Nevers Park in the fall/winter.
According to my mom, there used to be trash bins in the park, now there are none. My mom claims that "dogs still poop in the fall and winter" and people still "eat food? drink coffee?!" in the fall and winter and "yet the trash barrels are gone."
The HORROR! I cannot believe the Town of South Windsor would remove the trash barrels in the park. What is their reasoning? I am likely to believe that it is all a conspiracy against my mom and her needs, however, I have to wonder... Do dogs really still poop in the winter? And do people still eat food and drink coffee in the park? I can't be sure. On this one, I think it is a toss up. Maybe they were correct to remove unnecessary trash bins because maybe people and dogs hibernate in the winter and don't use the park as their own personal toilets and garbage bins.
In other news, I am still 48,000 words behind on my novel writing. But, I did come up with a way to complete my last item on the to-do-list. It involves Christmas tree lights and ingenuity. Details on that will come one week and 48,000 words later.
Cheers,
J to the E-N-N
The point of that little nugget of information about my mom is that she is a weirdo. Not in the sense of the creepy-lady-who-lives-next-door-and-you-are-afraid-to-eat-the-cookies-
she-baked-herself kind of weirdo, but the a-little-off-her-rocker-yet-she-looks-so-hip-and-young-and-I-don't-know-
what-to-think weirdo.
Anyway, my mom sends me ideas of what to post here and the latest two ideas she told me I should write about in a post called "Gripes of Odd People or something."
I read her gripes, and I thought they were worth noting:
Gripe Number 1: Baggers at the grocery store.
You know those earth-friendly reusable bags you can now purchase for about a dollar or so at the grocery store? Well, my mom bought a few of those so she could do her part in saving our glorious planet and at the end of one of her latest trips to the grocery store she whipped those bad boys out only for them to be filled with just a few items. So, my mom posed the question to me (and all of you) about why bother with these eco-friendly bags when they are only going to fill them part-way? And maybe, baggers need to go through more extensive training. Here are my thoughts:
Yes, mom, you are absolutely correct. There is no point in filling a reusable earth friendly bag only half full just as there is no reason to plant only half a tree (just trunk, no leaves) or write only half a novel. As for baggers not having enough training? Hmm.. Let me ponder this one a bit more. I am sure that the 16 year old boy who lives in Winchester and works at the Shaw's and makes minimum wage would be happy to spend his Sunday night not watching Blade Runner in his friend's basement but learning the art of bagging groceries. I am sure this young chap would find it such a useful skill, much more important than how to post a successful Onion personal ad. But, if it were the case that they gave extra training on how to properly bag groceries, I do hope they mention that heavy items should go on the bottom, and bread should go on the top. It always frosts my cookies when I find smushed bread under a can of tomatoes in my pink (yup, my reusable tote is not only earth friendly, but the dollar spent on it went to cancer research) eco-bag.
Gripe number 2: Lack of garbage receptacles in Nevers Park in the fall/winter.
According to my mom, there used to be trash bins in the park, now there are none. My mom claims that "dogs still poop in the fall and winter" and people still "eat food? drink coffee?!" in the fall and winter and "yet the trash barrels are gone."
The HORROR! I cannot believe the Town of South Windsor would remove the trash barrels in the park. What is their reasoning? I am likely to believe that it is all a conspiracy against my mom and her needs, however, I have to wonder... Do dogs really still poop in the winter? And do people still eat food and drink coffee in the park? I can't be sure. On this one, I think it is a toss up. Maybe they were correct to remove unnecessary trash bins because maybe people and dogs hibernate in the winter and don't use the park as their own personal toilets and garbage bins.
In other news, I am still 48,000 words behind on my novel writing. But, I did come up with a way to complete my last item on the to-do-list. It involves Christmas tree lights and ingenuity. Details on that will come one week and 48,000 words later.
Cheers,
J to the E-N-N
Writer's Block Thoughts and Stuff
Okay, so one of the helpful hints to get through this month of torturous writing hell is just to write anything and everything even if it is nothing. So, I am taking a momentary break from my 20 day writer's block and writing a post. I came on here to write a post and I need to get it out of my system. I think it will help me flow the creative juices and get 8,000 words out of my system all nice and easy-peasy, whatever that means.
New post coming momentarily. This update was for all of you who check my blog by the minute and need by the minute updates.
New post coming momentarily. This update was for all of you who check my blog by the minute and need by the minute updates.
NaNoWri NO MORE
I haven't written in a month (26 days?) and the reason I have been giving for my lack of updates is that fact that it is currently National Novel Writing Month and I have been working hard on my novel. The truth is, I wrote about 2,000 amazing words in the first week and since then have quit. I didn't quit in spirit until today when I realized I would not be able to write 9,600 words per day for the next five days...
Hold that thought- I am not quitting this thing. Nine thousand six hundred words per day is nothing. I can totally do this! I am an expert procrastinator and I should just get cracking. In fact, I wasn't even counting today when I calculated that number. So it is really 8,000 words per day. Ha ha ha ha ha. And I was going to quit. Silly me.
Hold that thought- I am not quitting this thing. Nine thousand six hundred words per day is nothing. I can totally do this! I am an expert procrastinator and I should just get cracking. In fact, I wasn't even counting today when I calculated that number. So it is really 8,000 words per day. Ha ha ha ha ha. And I was going to quit. Silly me.
Tuesday 30 October 2007
Cargo pants are for suckers
Okay, please don't take offense to that statement, you cargo pant wearers and lovers. I myself have been known to wear cargo things every once and a while, and there is something to be said about someone who can pull off cargos and heels. However, when you think about cargo pants and witness them in action, you start to realize how ridiculous they are.
While waiting for the bus (the time of day when everything amazing happens), I saw a young man running. The only reason I even noticed him at all was because he was wearing cargos and converse, a fairly typical combination in SoVi. What was funny is that his pockets were packed so chock full of stuff that he ran the full pockets bounced in the wind. It looked pretty uncomfortable. [I am pretty sure one pocket was full of quarters. I'd say he was on his way to the laundromat, but he didn't have any laundry. If he ran fast enough and long enough, the tension of the quarters against the khaki material would rip the seams and loose change would rain from the sky. It would be how I'd imagine winning the lottery would feel like. Except with hard painful quarters that pelt your face and end up adding to a total of $37 instead of millions of hundred dollar bills.]
Thus, it was realized that cargo pants are silly. They have these giant pockets , but can you really use them to their full potential? No. I've seen cargos that have pockets that could hold a small pair of shoes, but that would be ridiculous however handy it may seem. I would love to throw my spare pair of flats in my pocket, but then I would have a pair of shoes in my pocket.
Also, the location of the pockets are generally pretty awkward. The pockets are down on your ankle- maybe if you are lucky, closer to the knee or thigh- but you can't reach into them easily. So sure, you can stow your cell phone down in your ankle pocket, but try and reach that quickly if it rings.
Don't get me wrong- I love miscellaneous useless pockets on my clothing. In fact, I buy clothing that have pockets that go unused the same way I buy shirts that have hoods that I never wear. But, if you are a person who thinks you are buying cargo pants for the purpose of being able to carry around all sorts of things [including but not limited to: keys, phones, travel scrabble, flip flops, candy canes, cigarettes, altoids, kleenex, garden gnomes, nail files, and bottles of beers] in your pockets, then, you are a sucker, my friend. Don't say I didn't warn you.
While waiting for the bus (the time of day when everything amazing happens), I saw a young man running. The only reason I even noticed him at all was because he was wearing cargos and converse, a fairly typical combination in SoVi. What was funny is that his pockets were packed so chock full of stuff that he ran the full pockets bounced in the wind. It looked pretty uncomfortable. [I am pretty sure one pocket was full of quarters. I'd say he was on his way to the laundromat, but he didn't have any laundry. If he ran fast enough and long enough, the tension of the quarters against the khaki material would rip the seams and loose change would rain from the sky. It would be how I'd imagine winning the lottery would feel like. Except with hard painful quarters that pelt your face and end up adding to a total of $37 instead of millions of hundred dollar bills.]
Thus, it was realized that cargo pants are silly. They have these giant pockets , but can you really use them to their full potential? No. I've seen cargos that have pockets that could hold a small pair of shoes, but that would be ridiculous however handy it may seem. I would love to throw my spare pair of flats in my pocket, but then I would have a pair of shoes in my pocket.
Also, the location of the pockets are generally pretty awkward. The pockets are down on your ankle- maybe if you are lucky, closer to the knee or thigh- but you can't reach into them easily. So sure, you can stow your cell phone down in your ankle pocket, but try and reach that quickly if it rings.
Don't get me wrong- I love miscellaneous useless pockets on my clothing. In fact, I buy clothing that have pockets that go unused the same way I buy shirts that have hoods that I never wear. But, if you are a person who thinks you are buying cargo pants for the purpose of being able to carry around all sorts of things [including but not limited to: keys, phones, travel scrabble, flip flops, candy canes, cigarettes, altoids, kleenex, garden gnomes, nail files, and bottles of beers] in your pockets, then, you are a sucker, my friend. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Sunday 14 October 2007
NaNoWriMo
Okay, I officially signed up to write a novel during the month of November. I am taking ideas now starting now.
P.S. Sorry I haven't written in a while. To tide you over, here are a few answers to a few questions. (This is for you, Heidi!)
1. What is your favorite word? Jokers!2. What is your least favorite word? mucus.3. What turns you on? Smart people but not so smart that they are too smart to be social. Also, funny people. Also, nice arms. 4. What turns you off? Stupidiots. This is short for Stupid Idiots. The worst kind of idiot is a stupid one. What?5. What is your favorite curse word? Jokers!6. What sound or noise do you love? The ocean crashing on the shore. But not in a scary way like tsunamis. 7. What sound or noise do you hate? Nails on a chalkboard or anything similar. Like teeth on forks. Or in that scene in Spider-Man 2 when Doc Oc is on the operating table and then the arms have a mind of their own and they freak out and one of the doctor's nails are against the wall and it is the worst sound ever and just thinking about it makes me cringe.8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? I would love to be a writer. If I could finish a book and get it published and have it be successful then I would be the happiest girl in the world because then I wouldn't have to have a boss other than myself and I could sit in coffee shops all day and be mysterious. We'll see how November goes.9. What profession would you not like to do? School Custodian. Not because I don't like kids, but because I don't like vomit. Once this kid in my 7th grade math class puked all over the floor directly in front of the door. Class was ending, and so we had to do split leaps over the puddle of barf. It was disgusting shit.10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? I believe in reincarnation, so I hope I come back as a well cared for golden retriever. Or a better version of myself. Or a princess. I always wanted to be royalty.
P.S.S. Brooke wanted me to let all of you know I am really lucky. We went and saw Regina Spektor and we had front row seats. Yeah that's right. And they were a last minute purchase. So, no, it doesn't always pay to buy early. Sometimes you should buy the day before and get really awesome seats for cheap. Good story. Good times.
P.S. Sorry I haven't written in a while. To tide you over, here are a few answers to a few questions. (This is for you, Heidi!)
1. What is your favorite word? Jokers!2. What is your least favorite word? mucus.3. What turns you on? Smart people but not so smart that they are too smart to be social. Also, funny people. Also, nice arms. 4. What turns you off? Stupidiots. This is short for Stupid Idiots. The worst kind of idiot is a stupid one. What?5. What is your favorite curse word? Jokers!6. What sound or noise do you love? The ocean crashing on the shore. But not in a scary way like tsunamis. 7. What sound or noise do you hate? Nails on a chalkboard or anything similar. Like teeth on forks. Or in that scene in Spider-Man 2 when Doc Oc is on the operating table and then the arms have a mind of their own and they freak out and one of the doctor's nails are against the wall and it is the worst sound ever and just thinking about it makes me cringe.8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? I would love to be a writer. If I could finish a book and get it published and have it be successful then I would be the happiest girl in the world because then I wouldn't have to have a boss other than myself and I could sit in coffee shops all day and be mysterious. We'll see how November goes.9. What profession would you not like to do? School Custodian. Not because I don't like kids, but because I don't like vomit. Once this kid in my 7th grade math class puked all over the floor directly in front of the door. Class was ending, and so we had to do split leaps over the puddle of barf. It was disgusting shit.10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? I believe in reincarnation, so I hope I come back as a well cared for golden retriever. Or a better version of myself. Or a princess. I always wanted to be royalty.
P.S.S. Brooke wanted me to let all of you know I am really lucky. We went and saw Regina Spektor and we had front row seats. Yeah that's right. And they were a last minute purchase. So, no, it doesn't always pay to buy early. Sometimes you should buy the day before and get really awesome seats for cheap. Good story. Good times.
Sunday 23 September 2007
Update Shmupdate
I haven't gotten very far in the list. Thank goodness I had no deadline.
Here are the details:
1. Learn to Surf: Not done. There are many obstacles to getting this done (No waves, no surfboard, no skilled handsome surfing teacher). However, Liz and I may or may not be going to Costa Rica sometime soon so then I will learn how to surf.
2. Grow a plant before killing it. This one I am happy to report is complete. I did indeed grow plants. Then I killed them. Yup, I killed the plants. But at least they sprouted this time versus times 0 and negative 1. So number 2, done. No overachieving required, my days of an apartment gardener are currently suspended.
3. Learn to play electric guitar and/or drums. Ha. Ha ha ha ha. Yeah, not even started.
4. Learn to draw again (and keep drawing). I haven't kept drawing, but I am going to draw some more tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not.
5. Go one month without buying shoes. Complete! I haven't bought shoes in ages. Aces. (I tried to buy shoes today with no avail).
6. Experiment with sugar art. Still looking for silicone gloves. Once I have those I will be golden and the sugar art experimentation will be under way. Also, right now our kitchen is otherwise occupied with Lauren's wedding cake preparations.
7. Write something and get it published somewhere. I am going to pat myself on the back for this one. Yes, I did indeed get a freelance job to write an article for an online magazine. It is an unpaid gig but it is for real editors (not fake ones) so I think this can count for number 7 once I do it. Smartly, they are not giving me a deadline so I haven't started yet. I have been busy, what can I say. I have to call one of the editors tomorrow to discuss details. Consider this one a work in progress.
8. Run a 5k in less than 30 minutes. After work tomorrow I am going to go for a run. We will see how that goes.
9. Get crafty and profit from it. I have an Etsy website with nothing on it. I am going to start making stuff soon, then I will share the website with you and hopefully all of you will buy something. Or better, you can all just pay me money and I will say it is because I am crafty. What- you want something in exchange for your money? No that's not how this works. We will call it a crafty tax that you are required to pay me because I am crafty. Right.
Completed items on the to-do list: 2, 5, and half of 4. I think I am doing well, considering. (Considering what, I am sure I don't know).
Here are the details:
1. Learn to Surf: Not done. There are many obstacles to getting this done (No waves, no surfboard, no skilled handsome surfing teacher). However, Liz and I may or may not be going to Costa Rica sometime soon so then I will learn how to surf.
2. Grow a plant before killing it. This one I am happy to report is complete. I did indeed grow plants. Then I killed them. Yup, I killed the plants. But at least they sprouted this time versus times 0 and negative 1. So number 2, done. No overachieving required, my days of an apartment gardener are currently suspended.
3. Learn to play electric guitar and/or drums. Ha. Ha ha ha ha. Yeah, not even started.
4. Learn to draw again (and keep drawing). I haven't kept drawing, but I am going to draw some more tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not.
5. Go one month without buying shoes. Complete! I haven't bought shoes in ages. Aces. (I tried to buy shoes today with no avail).
6. Experiment with sugar art. Still looking for silicone gloves. Once I have those I will be golden and the sugar art experimentation will be under way. Also, right now our kitchen is otherwise occupied with Lauren's wedding cake preparations.
7. Write something and get it published somewhere. I am going to pat myself on the back for this one. Yes, I did indeed get a freelance job to write an article for an online magazine. It is an unpaid gig but it is for real editors (not fake ones) so I think this can count for number 7 once I do it. Smartly, they are not giving me a deadline so I haven't started yet. I have been busy, what can I say. I have to call one of the editors tomorrow to discuss details. Consider this one a work in progress.
8. Run a 5k in less than 30 minutes. After work tomorrow I am going to go for a run. We will see how that goes.
9. Get crafty and profit from it. I have an Etsy website with nothing on it. I am going to start making stuff soon, then I will share the website with you and hopefully all of you will buy something. Or better, you can all just pay me money and I will say it is because I am crafty. What- you want something in exchange for your money? No that's not how this works. We will call it a crafty tax that you are required to pay me because I am crafty. Right.
Completed items on the to-do list: 2, 5, and half of 4. I think I am doing well, considering. (Considering what, I am sure I don't know).
Saturday 22 September 2007
Jenns
Today I made the mistake of going shopping for some new fall clothes. I wanted a new pair of jeans because I realized I have 3 pairs that I wear and 2 of those were actually really ratty and at any moment could become not wearable and then what would I do on casual Fridays?
So, I went to my normal stores and all of the short/ankle length jeans just seemed a lot longer than normal. Like, so long that when I stood on my tippy toes I still had at least 2 inches that were dragging on the ground. Yes, I know I can get things tailored, but I always feel that once jeans get hemmed they lose a little something. I mean, anyone can tell that they have been tailored, plus the proportions are all wrong.
Anyway, I decided that if I ever become wealthy enough, I will put some money to work with somebody who knows something about designing jeans and will get them to design a line of jeans that has sizes in measurements instead of arbitrary numbers. I mean, men's jeans are measured out by waist and inseam, why can't women's? My line of jeans will also include thigh measurements because we all know some women don't have thighs and some of us do. But that doesn't mean if we have large thighs we have large waistlines and are tall and vice versa.
Last, I have come up with a name for my new denim pant (or trousers, Diane) line: Jenns.
Yup, that's right, I am so self-absorbed I have to name them after myself. Also, I think it will be really easy for people to switch over from Jeans to Jenns. "I need to go pick up a new pair of Jenns." "How does my butt look in these Jenns?" Etc.
Brilliant.
So, I went to my normal stores and all of the short/ankle length jeans just seemed a lot longer than normal. Like, so long that when I stood on my tippy toes I still had at least 2 inches that were dragging on the ground. Yes, I know I can get things tailored, but I always feel that once jeans get hemmed they lose a little something. I mean, anyone can tell that they have been tailored, plus the proportions are all wrong.
Anyway, I decided that if I ever become wealthy enough, I will put some money to work with somebody who knows something about designing jeans and will get them to design a line of jeans that has sizes in measurements instead of arbitrary numbers. I mean, men's jeans are measured out by waist and inseam, why can't women's? My line of jeans will also include thigh measurements because we all know some women don't have thighs and some of us do. But that doesn't mean if we have large thighs we have large waistlines and are tall and vice versa.
Last, I have come up with a name for my new denim pant (or trousers, Diane) line: Jenns.
Yup, that's right, I am so self-absorbed I have to name them after myself. Also, I think it will be really easy for people to switch over from Jeans to Jenns. "I need to go pick up a new pair of Jenns." "How does my butt look in these Jenns?" Etc.
Brilliant.
Thursday 20 September 2007
Fafarazzi
Have I ever mentioned I like reading about celebrities? I get a weird sense of joy when I open up The Superficial pages every day when I am bored at work. I love to see who did what stupid thing and how they are going to be made fun of that day. Since I am not the only one with this ridiculous obsession, some friends and I joined a Celebrity Fantasy League. We each have teams of celebrities and the celebrities earn points for the team by getting publicity (good or bad). I would love to take the rest of this post space bragging about what amazingly terrible celebrities I got and how they are going to lead me to victory but the truth is my team has been bouncing around in the bottom half of the rankings. I am lucky enough to be currently number 5 (out of 9) but I have slipped as low as 8th and in 5 minutes I could drop down to last depending on what happens.
The reality of the situation is that my celebrities are underachievers. They do not have their eye on the game. I don't know what they are thinking, but none of them have managed to get an ounce of publicity on their own this past week. Here's who I am stuck with:
Jessica Simpson. Here I thought she would be my golden star, my quarterback if you will and if I knew a thing about football. But no. The only publicity she has managed to get is by dragging on the coattails or should I say hair extensions of Britney Spears. Apparently, Ms. Simspon allowed Ms. Spears to borrow her personal hairstylist and extension wizard Ken Paves before the VMAs. As we all well recall Brit had an incident where she went crazy and shaved her head. It was so sweet of dear Jessie to loan Brittie her Ken-doll Paves so she could look like her old self for the performance. However, Britney, being the psycopath that she is, apparently had a tiff just before the show with Ken and thus the was the cause (or one of the many causes) of the disaster VMA perfomance. Since crazy Britney is not on my team, I am stuck collecting the leftover points whenever the Britney/Ken Paves incident is recalled and Jessica's act of kindness is mentioned. Jessica- maybe you should get pregnant with Ken Paves baby ASAP instead of waiting six months. Then I'd get all the points.
I also have Jessica's Ex Nick Lachey, whose name is only mentioned when the rumors fly about Jessica trying to have a baby with Kenneth, and apparently he is going to open some restaurant with Nicky Hilton and Wilmer Valderrama. But no one cares about that. He's earned me two points. Jokers.
My surprise rising star has been Ryan Seacrest. That's mainly because Simon Cowell criticized him in regards to the Emmy's and because he has a radio show where he interviews a lot of cooler celebrities. So, basically, all Seacrest has to do is say "Seacrest...Out" a lot and invite celebrities to come on his show and he will continue to earn me points.
I also have ex-couple Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams. Unfortunately, there haven't been any public fights or airing of dirty laundry between them. The only remotely exciting thing that has happened is that Heath was spotted making out with an older woman. Who cares. Poor Michelle Williams. All anyone ever knew her for was her attachment to Heath and the fact she played Jen Lindley on Dawson's Creek. Now what is she going to do? I always thought she had weird teeth that looked covered in vaseline so I am not sure how far she will make it in Hollywood alone.
Zac Efron (a) spells his name weird and (b) doesn't do anything except be remotely connected to Vanessa Hudgens who took naked pictures of herself for him. There are only so many ways you can rewrite that story, so 'nuff said.
I thought I would rack up quite a bit of points due to my team member Owen Wilson's depression, former drug addiction, and attempt at ending his life, but first I feel bad wishing him to continue on the downward spiral so I can earn more Fafa points, but second I really like Owen Wilson. I feel like he has got to be a really nice guy. So maybe, he will get some publicity for something really good instead of depressing sadness.
I recently added Avril Lavigne on my team because she is always saying stupid things. But apparently she has only said two stupid things lately because I have only gotten two points off of her.
My other losers are Cameron Diaz who may or may not be dating John Mayer (what?) and Gwen Stefani who only gets points because sometimes she dresses like a mannequin. Needless to say, neither of those so called famous people have done a bit of good on my team.
The only way I could foresee myself catching up in this game is if the following scenario happens:
Jessica Simpson is caught making out with with Ryan Seacrest in front of former hubby Nick Lachey at Nick's restaurant opening. It turns out Nick Lachey really doesn't care what Jessica does, because he is in turn actually Ken Paves secret lover. This though, bothers Jessica because she is planning on having Ken's beautiful blonde babies, and feels betrayed by Ken, who she thought was her loyal hair extension specialist. However, it turns out that Nick is actually bald in real life and has been using Ken to create the illusion of lovely locks years before Ken and Jessica even met. Ken has also been training Nick in ballroom dancing, so Nick can join the ranks of his brother Drew as a Dancing with the Stars champion. Meanwhile, photos of Jessica Simpson circulate, with crusty mascara running down her face, and rumors start that both she and Michelle Williams are alcoholics living in misery on the streets of Beverly Hills. Heath Ledger is caught making out with Cameron Diaz who later in the week is caught making out with Zac Efron. Also, it turns out that Gwen Stefani is in fact a mannequin that springs to life when a particular shade of magical red lipstick is applied to her plastic face. Finally, Avril Lavigne demonstrates her kind and good heart by volunteering at the very mental health center to which Owen Wilson has been committed. After Avril offers Owen worlds of advice on how to handle publicity, etc, they become fast friends and are inseparable to the point of creepy considering Owen is significantly older than Avril. Avril convinces Owen to express his personality through pink streaks in his hair and he makes a complete recovery, forgetting about Kate Hudsen as he overcomes his drug addiction once and for all.
I have two weeks for the above to happen. Then, you can all congratulate me on my champion team in the world of fantasy leagues.
The reality of the situation is that my celebrities are underachievers. They do not have their eye on the game. I don't know what they are thinking, but none of them have managed to get an ounce of publicity on their own this past week. Here's who I am stuck with:
Jessica Simpson. Here I thought she would be my golden star, my quarterback if you will and if I knew a thing about football. But no. The only publicity she has managed to get is by dragging on the coattails or should I say hair extensions of Britney Spears. Apparently, Ms. Simspon allowed Ms. Spears to borrow her personal hairstylist and extension wizard Ken Paves before the VMAs. As we all well recall Brit had an incident where she went crazy and shaved her head. It was so sweet of dear Jessie to loan Brittie her Ken-doll Paves so she could look like her old self for the performance. However, Britney, being the psycopath that she is, apparently had a tiff just before the show with Ken and thus the was the cause (or one of the many causes) of the disaster VMA perfomance. Since crazy Britney is not on my team, I am stuck collecting the leftover points whenever the Britney/Ken Paves incident is recalled and Jessica's act of kindness is mentioned. Jessica- maybe you should get pregnant with Ken Paves baby ASAP instead of waiting six months. Then I'd get all the points.
I also have Jessica's Ex Nick Lachey, whose name is only mentioned when the rumors fly about Jessica trying to have a baby with Kenneth, and apparently he is going to open some restaurant with Nicky Hilton and Wilmer Valderrama. But no one cares about that. He's earned me two points. Jokers.
My surprise rising star has been Ryan Seacrest. That's mainly because Simon Cowell criticized him in regards to the Emmy's and because he has a radio show where he interviews a lot of cooler celebrities. So, basically, all Seacrest has to do is say "Seacrest...Out" a lot and invite celebrities to come on his show and he will continue to earn me points.
I also have ex-couple Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams. Unfortunately, there haven't been any public fights or airing of dirty laundry between them. The only remotely exciting thing that has happened is that Heath was spotted making out with an older woman. Who cares. Poor Michelle Williams. All anyone ever knew her for was her attachment to Heath and the fact she played Jen Lindley on Dawson's Creek. Now what is she going to do? I always thought she had weird teeth that looked covered in vaseline so I am not sure how far she will make it in Hollywood alone.
Zac Efron (a) spells his name weird and (b) doesn't do anything except be remotely connected to Vanessa Hudgens who took naked pictures of herself for him. There are only so many ways you can rewrite that story, so 'nuff said.
I thought I would rack up quite a bit of points due to my team member Owen Wilson's depression, former drug addiction, and attempt at ending his life, but first I feel bad wishing him to continue on the downward spiral so I can earn more Fafa points, but second I really like Owen Wilson. I feel like he has got to be a really nice guy. So maybe, he will get some publicity for something really good instead of depressing sadness.
I recently added Avril Lavigne on my team because she is always saying stupid things. But apparently she has only said two stupid things lately because I have only gotten two points off of her.
My other losers are Cameron Diaz who may or may not be dating John Mayer (what?) and Gwen Stefani who only gets points because sometimes she dresses like a mannequin. Needless to say, neither of those so called famous people have done a bit of good on my team.
The only way I could foresee myself catching up in this game is if the following scenario happens:
Jessica Simpson is caught making out with with Ryan Seacrest in front of former hubby Nick Lachey at Nick's restaurant opening. It turns out Nick Lachey really doesn't care what Jessica does, because he is in turn actually Ken Paves secret lover. This though, bothers Jessica because she is planning on having Ken's beautiful blonde babies, and feels betrayed by Ken, who she thought was her loyal hair extension specialist. However, it turns out that Nick is actually bald in real life and has been using Ken to create the illusion of lovely locks years before Ken and Jessica even met. Ken has also been training Nick in ballroom dancing, so Nick can join the ranks of his brother Drew as a Dancing with the Stars champion. Meanwhile, photos of Jessica Simpson circulate, with crusty mascara running down her face, and rumors start that both she and Michelle Williams are alcoholics living in misery on the streets of Beverly Hills. Heath Ledger is caught making out with Cameron Diaz who later in the week is caught making out with Zac Efron. Also, it turns out that Gwen Stefani is in fact a mannequin that springs to life when a particular shade of magical red lipstick is applied to her plastic face. Finally, Avril Lavigne demonstrates her kind and good heart by volunteering at the very mental health center to which Owen Wilson has been committed. After Avril offers Owen worlds of advice on how to handle publicity, etc, they become fast friends and are inseparable to the point of creepy considering Owen is significantly older than Avril. Avril convinces Owen to express his personality through pink streaks in his hair and he makes a complete recovery, forgetting about Kate Hudsen as he overcomes his drug addiction once and for all.
I have two weeks for the above to happen. Then, you can all congratulate me on my champion team in the world of fantasy leagues.
Monday 17 September 2007
Jokers
Brooke (my roommate) has recently decided she is going to use the term "Aces" to mean something good happened or to describe something good ("like aces"). This all came about because a friend of hers uses the word "chocolate" for that same purpose. I have decided if people are going to start making up new slang words for good things, I also wanted a trademark word.
My word is going to be "jokers" (keeping with the card theme) and it is going to mean (a) crazy (b) wild and (c) terrible. I thought of this while I was waiting for the bus this AM and would have texted Brooke my brilliant new slang word, however, her phone doesn't accept text messages because it is not actually a cell phone but it is a cordless phone she happens to carry around in her purse. So Brooke, I hope you read this.
Here are a few scenarios of when "jokers" would be appropriate to use:
When the Red Sox are winning and then the Yankees sneak attack them in the last two innings with lots of runs all of a sudden (as per Friday's game):
"Jokers! What happened?"
When your roommate comes home and tells you a crazy story about a tan old man wearing orange short shorts and no shirt on the bus:
"That's jokers!"
When a colleague asks you how your Saturday night was and it consisted of you waiting in line at a way too cool bar, never end up getting in and finding yourself at another bar that is less cool but in a bad way where the end of a pub crawl is happening and so there are way too many people in matching t-shirts falling all over each other:
"It was like jokers. I am not even kidding you."
So you'll hear me using the word "jokers" now. You can use it too but remember I started it.
My word is going to be "jokers" (keeping with the card theme) and it is going to mean (a) crazy (b) wild and (c) terrible. I thought of this while I was waiting for the bus this AM and would have texted Brooke my brilliant new slang word, however, her phone doesn't accept text messages because it is not actually a cell phone but it is a cordless phone she happens to carry around in her purse. So Brooke, I hope you read this.
Here are a few scenarios of when "jokers" would be appropriate to use:
When the Red Sox are winning and then the Yankees sneak attack them in the last two innings with lots of runs all of a sudden (as per Friday's game):
"Jokers! What happened?"
When your roommate comes home and tells you a crazy story about a tan old man wearing orange short shorts and no shirt on the bus:
"That's jokers!"
When a colleague asks you how your Saturday night was and it consisted of you waiting in line at a way too cool bar, never end up getting in and finding yourself at another bar that is less cool but in a bad way where the end of a pub crawl is happening and so there are way too many people in matching t-shirts falling all over each other:
"It was like jokers. I am not even kidding you."
So you'll hear me using the word "jokers" now. You can use it too but remember I started it.
Sunday 16 September 2007
Why I haven't posted in a week
I know that being a blogger means posting, but sometimes it is hard. There are quite a few reasons why I haven't posted in a while and I will outline them below:
Number 1 reason I haven't updated my blog: I have become a Facebook junkie. Okay, so I know I am borderline too old for Facebook, but I recently quit MySpace (it was kind of a spontaneous decision) and I needed a way to stalk people online (Mom, do not try this at home). So anyway, Facebook has been blowing up with these things called applications. For those of you who are not familiar with Facebook, it is basically a networking website for friends. To make it more interesting you can add surveys, games, polls, etc onto your page. I recently added Scrabulous because I caught my roommate Brooke playing it with her friends. So now I can play scrabble with my friends online through Facebook! Or so I thought. So I looked at my list of friends and thought, "Who will play with me?" And invited a few people. Then waited. The two people I invited accepted my invitations but didn't take their turns. So I start sending harassing emails to them, trying to trash talk them into putting their words down. Turns out they aren't stupid, just Scrabulous had been acting up. So anyway, today I say to my roommate Brooke, "I just want to play Scrabble!" She says, "Well, if you want we can play real scrabble right now." I said to her, "Maybe later, I have to go update my blog."
Number 2 reason: Work sucks. I have been at work way too much this past week (including today and Saturday) because I have had to get stuff ready for a business trip to Denver, on top of the fact we are short-staffed and that it is the busiest time of year. I have been so work-oriented that I haven't been able to think of anything remotely creative or funny to add to this blog. Why is that you ask? Oh, because work sucks the creative and funny out of me and I turn into a miserable sad not funny person.
Number 3: I haven't been able to post because I have been in the midst of working on some fake news stories. I know all of you out there think that fake news just comes out of my head like ear wax, but the truth is they take time and research. I mean, I have to first find the fake story. That's not even the toughest part. Then, I have to do some fake interviews (and let me tell you, it is really hard sometimes to contact the fake people you are trying to interview and fit into their fake schedule.) Then, I have to fact check all of the fake facts and submit the story to my fake editor. Who then fake edits it, which means quite a few fake revisions, until finally it is a fake news story I can post on this blog. It's a lot of hard work, fake news writing. I am not even kidding. It's tough. And time consuming. Right now I am working on a human interest story about a pair of socks that I think you will enjoy, but it is only in the fake story idea stage at this point.
And 4: I have better things to do than post on this blog! For instance, last Sunday, Liz and I went apple picking and it was really funny and I thought to myself "Now this is something I should post about." But then, Liz and I were really busy drinking beers and eating Guinness soup and I had no time to write. The next day I was at work late, and the day after that I went to see Tim and Amy and celebrate the fact they actually have new jobs that they liked, which involved more beers. Thursday I saw Wicked, and Friday I watched the Red Sox game. So all in all, it has been a busy week, and so I couldn't write about the apple picking adventure, or the fact that Liz came up with my future career as a professional third wheel. One day, maybe, I will write about all of those things. As you can see, right now I just don't have the time.
Number 1 reason I haven't updated my blog: I have become a Facebook junkie. Okay, so I know I am borderline too old for Facebook, but I recently quit MySpace (it was kind of a spontaneous decision) and I needed a way to stalk people online (Mom, do not try this at home). So anyway, Facebook has been blowing up with these things called applications. For those of you who are not familiar with Facebook, it is basically a networking website for friends. To make it more interesting you can add surveys, games, polls, etc onto your page. I recently added Scrabulous because I caught my roommate Brooke playing it with her friends. So now I can play scrabble with my friends online through Facebook! Or so I thought. So I looked at my list of friends and thought, "Who will play with me?" And invited a few people. Then waited. The two people I invited accepted my invitations but didn't take their turns. So I start sending harassing emails to them, trying to trash talk them into putting their words down. Turns out they aren't stupid, just Scrabulous had been acting up. So anyway, today I say to my roommate Brooke, "I just want to play Scrabble!" She says, "Well, if you want we can play real scrabble right now." I said to her, "Maybe later, I have to go update my blog."
Number 2 reason: Work sucks. I have been at work way too much this past week (including today and Saturday) because I have had to get stuff ready for a business trip to Denver, on top of the fact we are short-staffed and that it is the busiest time of year. I have been so work-oriented that I haven't been able to think of anything remotely creative or funny to add to this blog. Why is that you ask? Oh, because work sucks the creative and funny out of me and I turn into a miserable sad not funny person.
Number 3: I haven't been able to post because I have been in the midst of working on some fake news stories. I know all of you out there think that fake news just comes out of my head like ear wax, but the truth is they take time and research. I mean, I have to first find the fake story. That's not even the toughest part. Then, I have to do some fake interviews (and let me tell you, it is really hard sometimes to contact the fake people you are trying to interview and fit into their fake schedule.) Then, I have to fact check all of the fake facts and submit the story to my fake editor. Who then fake edits it, which means quite a few fake revisions, until finally it is a fake news story I can post on this blog. It's a lot of hard work, fake news writing. I am not even kidding. It's tough. And time consuming. Right now I am working on a human interest story about a pair of socks that I think you will enjoy, but it is only in the fake story idea stage at this point.
And 4: I have better things to do than post on this blog! For instance, last Sunday, Liz and I went apple picking and it was really funny and I thought to myself "Now this is something I should post about." But then, Liz and I were really busy drinking beers and eating Guinness soup and I had no time to write. The next day I was at work late, and the day after that I went to see Tim and Amy and celebrate the fact they actually have new jobs that they liked, which involved more beers. Thursday I saw Wicked, and Friday I watched the Red Sox game. So all in all, it has been a busy week, and so I couldn't write about the apple picking adventure, or the fact that Liz came up with my future career as a professional third wheel. One day, maybe, I will write about all of those things. As you can see, right now I just don't have the time.
Saturday 8 September 2007
Happy Birthday, Marmie!
It's my mom's birthday today, and since she is my number one fan, I wanted to make sure to note that fact.
Speaking of my mom, I am thinking of enlisting her as a guest blogger. Maybe not really a blogger per se, but my mom seems to think she has a lot of great blog ideas. It could be really fun to post them on here.
One idea she had when I was home last week was for me to write a blog about being stuck in an elevator with smelly people and babies. (I think that is what the idea was. I wrote it down but I write a lot of things down and so now that piece of paper has gone missing.) After she brought it up, I asked my mom if that situation just happened to her. Sometimes my mom likes to give half a story so you ask her the probing questions so she can say, "Well, actually, yes, that did just happen and here are a few more juicy details." And once that happens you are trapped into the mom story. Anyway, no she didn't get trapped in an elevator with a smelly person and 17 babies, but apparently she was in an elevator with a smelly person and several babies and she was thinking about how terrible it would be if she got trapped in an elevator with that crowd. Apparently she was counting the seconds between floor two and floor one. Right. (Do you see where I get it from?).
So no, Mom, I am not going to write a blog about that particular scenario, but I am going to give all of my readers a little advice inspired by you:
Do not ride elevators unless they are the only option.
In a mall, for example, you usually have both elevators and escalators. Choose the escalator! If you choose the elevator you run the risk of being stuck in it for an indefinite amount of time with unfortunate people who probably don't like you. I know some people don't like escalators, however, elevators are far worse.
If an elevator breaks, you are stuck in there for who knows how long. Has anyone seen Mixed Nuts? That is a classic example of being stuck in an elevator. It even comes with a song. If an escalator breaks, you can just walk up or down the stairs, depending which way you are more comfortable going.
People have no sense of personal space in an elevator. For most, it seems as though riding the elevator is a game of "Can I fit?" Even on the most crowded elevators, people just push their way in with no regard for other peoples' comfort levels. On an escalator, this happens sometimes when you have a close stander. (You know, those people who huff on the back of your neck with soft pretzel breath?) But, at least you always have the option of moving up a step or two. If they follow, you keep going, and think of it this way- you are at least getting some exercise, which is so hard to fit in the world of moving sidewalks, escalators, scooters, etc.
Furthermore, elevators are evil. I know, I know, I am totally stereotyping elevators. Surely they are not all the spawn of Satan. Nonetheless, it must be said- most elevators don't care about you at all. They will close the door on your arm. Oh, you are one arm short now? Who cares? Not the elevator! An escalator would never do that. If your heel gets stuck in between one of the steps, there is an emergency stop button that can be pressed. You might think the "open door" button on the elevator serves a similar purpose. You are wrong. That button can actually only be pressed a limited number of times before it decides you don't really require the door be held open and nothing will stop that door from closing on your or a friend's arm, leg, or face.
Basically, the moral of this post is- try to avoid elevators. They are not your friends. If you are on the second floor of a mall, and your only option is to take the elevator or take your chances throwing your body off the balcony of the second floor to land in a plant on the first floor, give the jump a whirl. All jokes aside, you might break a leg or two, but at least you won't lose an arm permanently which is sure to happen if you ride the elevator.
Speaking of my mom, I am thinking of enlisting her as a guest blogger. Maybe not really a blogger per se, but my mom seems to think she has a lot of great blog ideas. It could be really fun to post them on here.
One idea she had when I was home last week was for me to write a blog about being stuck in an elevator with smelly people and babies. (I think that is what the idea was. I wrote it down but I write a lot of things down and so now that piece of paper has gone missing.) After she brought it up, I asked my mom if that situation just happened to her. Sometimes my mom likes to give half a story so you ask her the probing questions so she can say, "Well, actually, yes, that did just happen and here are a few more juicy details." And once that happens you are trapped into the mom story. Anyway, no she didn't get trapped in an elevator with a smelly person and 17 babies, but apparently she was in an elevator with a smelly person and several babies and she was thinking about how terrible it would be if she got trapped in an elevator with that crowd. Apparently she was counting the seconds between floor two and floor one. Right. (Do you see where I get it from?).
So no, Mom, I am not going to write a blog about that particular scenario, but I am going to give all of my readers a little advice inspired by you:
Do not ride elevators unless they are the only option.
In a mall, for example, you usually have both elevators and escalators. Choose the escalator! If you choose the elevator you run the risk of being stuck in it for an indefinite amount of time with unfortunate people who probably don't like you. I know some people don't like escalators, however, elevators are far worse.
If an elevator breaks, you are stuck in there for who knows how long. Has anyone seen Mixed Nuts? That is a classic example of being stuck in an elevator. It even comes with a song. If an escalator breaks, you can just walk up or down the stairs, depending which way you are more comfortable going.
People have no sense of personal space in an elevator. For most, it seems as though riding the elevator is a game of "Can I fit?" Even on the most crowded elevators, people just push their way in with no regard for other peoples' comfort levels. On an escalator, this happens sometimes when you have a close stander. (You know, those people who huff on the back of your neck with soft pretzel breath?) But, at least you always have the option of moving up a step or two. If they follow, you keep going, and think of it this way- you are at least getting some exercise, which is so hard to fit in the world of moving sidewalks, escalators, scooters, etc.
Furthermore, elevators are evil. I know, I know, I am totally stereotyping elevators. Surely they are not all the spawn of Satan. Nonetheless, it must be said- most elevators don't care about you at all. They will close the door on your arm. Oh, you are one arm short now? Who cares? Not the elevator! An escalator would never do that. If your heel gets stuck in between one of the steps, there is an emergency stop button that can be pressed. You might think the "open door" button on the elevator serves a similar purpose. You are wrong. That button can actually only be pressed a limited number of times before it decides you don't really require the door be held open and nothing will stop that door from closing on your or a friend's arm, leg, or face.
Basically, the moral of this post is- try to avoid elevators. They are not your friends. If you are on the second floor of a mall, and your only option is to take the elevator or take your chances throwing your body off the balcony of the second floor to land in a plant on the first floor, give the jump a whirl. All jokes aside, you might break a leg or two, but at least you won't lose an arm permanently which is sure to happen if you ride the elevator.
Wednesday 5 September 2007
Eggs, Milk, and Ice Cream
Sometimes when I have a crummy day I like to walk to the White Hen and get some Ben and Jerry's. I say Ben and Jerry's specifically because it is usually the best option in the Hen. Depending on what sort of crummy it is, I will get either Phish Food (now Surf and Turf variety for a limited time only) or Chocolate Therapy. Every once and a while I get Chubby Hubby which used to be my preference but lately has fallen out of favor.
There are a lot of odd things about the Hen. For instance, whenever I go in there for the sole purpose of buying ice cream, I always end up leaving with ice cream, a quart of milk, and half a dozen eggs. I can't really explain it, except maybe I am embarrassed to be buying just ice cream. Usually I am dressed the part of the depressed female who just has got to have the ice cream, so I think I subconsciously try to cover it up by picking up the eggs and the milk as well. Once you add eggs and milk to the ice cream purchase, you aren't saying "Oh I really needed some ice cream because my day was crummy" you are now saying "Gosh, I need eggs and milk desperately for my breakfast/that quiche I am making for Brunch in the AM/the cake I have to bake for my friends birthday.... oh this ice cream? I thought I'd just grab that while I was here. You know, for the kids. Watching my girlish figure of course." It's almost that the ice cream is a treat for being responsible by buying two responsible items (egg and milk). I mean, doesn't everyone always have eggs and milk on hand? If they don't they should. I mean, really.
Other weird things happen at the Hen, too. Once I was in there minding my own business (i.e. eavesdropping on an old man reading ingredients off of boxes) when all of a sudden these two people start speaking German. I turn the corner and then this one man says to the old man, "Do you speak German, too?" I thought that was sort of odd, because why would an old man be singled out for speaking German when clearly he was reading the ingredients off in English, when I turned the corner of the Laundry Detergent/Chip and Dip/Toilet Paper aisle and saw the old man was in fact wearing something that resembled leiderhosen (sp?). I thought it was kind of odd that there were three German-phones in the White Hen but I didn't care enough to ponder it for too long and took the opportunity to purchase my pot pie (plus milk and eggs). The cashier rang it up as over $20. Now- the prices in White Hen are a little high, however, $20 for three items is pushing it in my book. So I said, "For the pot pie, milk, and eggs?" And the 20-ish Tufts student said, "And your other items." All of a sudden I noticed a pile of various items that were not mine on the counter. "Those aren't mine," I responded carefully. The poor guy seemed so confused and then he apologized, apparently he had thought I was the girl who had dropped her stuff on the counter and then ran off to get a few more items (That's how it works at the Hen, they have baskets but nobody uses them. They just drop their items off at the counter once their hands get full and then go back for more). Anyway, I turn around and there is a girl. She was wearing glasses that looked like mine, had my hair color, was my height, and was wearing the same T-shirt as me. I had run into Bizarro Jenn. At the White Hen. On German Day. (Granted, it was someone I worked with but didn't know and had just come back from a work event where we all had to wear work T-shirts. But still. It was weird nonetheless.)
Last time I visited the Hen, I walk in, and it is completely empty. No employees, no customers. It's a family run Hen, so I assumed someone was in the back and would hear the bell on the door had rung and would come out in a minute to make sure I didn't steal anything. So, I just start shopping. After a few minutes of quiet, I start to think it is a little odd, but decided to figure it out once I got all the things I needed. I turn that laundry detergent/chip aisle corner, and then all of a sudden "BOOOOOOO!" I nearly dropped the eggs I was carrying (for show, I had no plan on purchasing) and jumped and let out a little squeal. Then, there was laughter and a "Got YOU!" I turn around and look in the corridor I like to call the secret passageway and there are two young Hen employees goofing around. The girl had hidden so she could surprise the guy when he came out of the bathroom. I am not sure if that is the most professional of behavior, but hey, we are talking about the White Hen here and at my work, which is in an office building mind you, you can run around in capes and skeleton costumes and that is called motivation. Needless to say, next time I go into White Hen I will keep one eye open, or maybe both eyes because it would be pretty bizarre if I only had one eye open, I guess, unless the other eye was covered in an eye patch or something. What I mean is, I will be on the lookout for people hiding and jumping out and surprising other employees. Whatever. I don't even know what this post is about anymore.
I think it is about the fact I had a crummy day today and might go buy some ice cream. I think I need eggs, too. And milk.
There are a lot of odd things about the Hen. For instance, whenever I go in there for the sole purpose of buying ice cream, I always end up leaving with ice cream, a quart of milk, and half a dozen eggs. I can't really explain it, except maybe I am embarrassed to be buying just ice cream. Usually I am dressed the part of the depressed female who just has got to have the ice cream, so I think I subconsciously try to cover it up by picking up the eggs and the milk as well. Once you add eggs and milk to the ice cream purchase, you aren't saying "Oh I really needed some ice cream because my day was crummy" you are now saying "Gosh, I need eggs and milk desperately for my breakfast/that quiche I am making for Brunch in the AM/the cake I have to bake for my friends birthday.... oh this ice cream? I thought I'd just grab that while I was here. You know, for the kids. Watching my girlish figure of course." It's almost that the ice cream is a treat for being responsible by buying two responsible items (egg and milk). I mean, doesn't everyone always have eggs and milk on hand? If they don't they should. I mean, really.
Other weird things happen at the Hen, too. Once I was in there minding my own business (i.e. eavesdropping on an old man reading ingredients off of boxes) when all of a sudden these two people start speaking German. I turn the corner and then this one man says to the old man, "Do you speak German, too?" I thought that was sort of odd, because why would an old man be singled out for speaking German when clearly he was reading the ingredients off in English, when I turned the corner of the Laundry Detergent/Chip and Dip/Toilet Paper aisle and saw the old man was in fact wearing something that resembled leiderhosen (sp?). I thought it was kind of odd that there were three German-phones in the White Hen but I didn't care enough to ponder it for too long and took the opportunity to purchase my pot pie (plus milk and eggs). The cashier rang it up as over $20. Now- the prices in White Hen are a little high, however, $20 for three items is pushing it in my book. So I said, "For the pot pie, milk, and eggs?" And the 20-ish Tufts student said, "And your other items." All of a sudden I noticed a pile of various items that were not mine on the counter. "Those aren't mine," I responded carefully. The poor guy seemed so confused and then he apologized, apparently he had thought I was the girl who had dropped her stuff on the counter and then ran off to get a few more items (That's how it works at the Hen, they have baskets but nobody uses them. They just drop their items off at the counter once their hands get full and then go back for more). Anyway, I turn around and there is a girl. She was wearing glasses that looked like mine, had my hair color, was my height, and was wearing the same T-shirt as me. I had run into Bizarro Jenn. At the White Hen. On German Day. (Granted, it was someone I worked with but didn't know and had just come back from a work event where we all had to wear work T-shirts. But still. It was weird nonetheless.)
Last time I visited the Hen, I walk in, and it is completely empty. No employees, no customers. It's a family run Hen, so I assumed someone was in the back and would hear the bell on the door had rung and would come out in a minute to make sure I didn't steal anything. So, I just start shopping. After a few minutes of quiet, I start to think it is a little odd, but decided to figure it out once I got all the things I needed. I turn that laundry detergent/chip aisle corner, and then all of a sudden "BOOOOOOO!" I nearly dropped the eggs I was carrying (for show, I had no plan on purchasing) and jumped and let out a little squeal. Then, there was laughter and a "Got YOU!" I turn around and look in the corridor I like to call the secret passageway and there are two young Hen employees goofing around. The girl had hidden so she could surprise the guy when he came out of the bathroom. I am not sure if that is the most professional of behavior, but hey, we are talking about the White Hen here and at my work, which is in an office building mind you, you can run around in capes and skeleton costumes and that is called motivation. Needless to say, next time I go into White Hen I will keep one eye open, or maybe both eyes because it would be pretty bizarre if I only had one eye open, I guess, unless the other eye was covered in an eye patch or something. What I mean is, I will be on the lookout for people hiding and jumping out and surprising other employees. Whatever. I don't even know what this post is about anymore.
I think it is about the fact I had a crummy day today and might go buy some ice cream. I think I need eggs, too. And milk.
Hairball
Did I mention I hate taking the bus? Have I ever mentioned that waiting for the bus is almost just as bad as taking the bus?
In the spring and summer and early fall I almost don't mind the bus wait, because it is usually a pleasant experience. I go to True Grounds for a coffee or a slice of banana bread. I read a book. I listen to my iPod. It's generally kind of nice and relaxing.
Today, I got out there early. Ran to get my first hot coffee beverage of the season (Medium Mocha with Skim milk), then went out to the bus stop and started waiting. As I am listening to my pod I see a golden blond strand of hair waft by my face. Then another. And another. One almost blows in my mouth as I take a sip of my delectable coffee.
Disgusted, I look around. A woman is brushing her hair at the bus stop.
Okay, maybe she didn't have time to get this done in the comfort of her home in front of her vanity. I know I am one to rush out the door before putting on my makeup. Sometimes I haven't even dried my hair. I am not one to judge others for running late and needing to do things on the fly.
However, this woman's hair looked fine. She was sort of like Marcia Brady who used to brush 100 strokes in order to have glossy Panteve Pro-V hair model hair. Thus, the brushing at the bus stop was completely unneccessary and served no real purpose. (I could almost understand if she had rats nest hair and had to make herself presentable. That wasn't the case.)
Furthermore, if she wanted to put in her neccessary 100 strokes, she should just wait til she got to work or wherever she was going. There is no point to brush your hair that much pre-commute. It's only gonna get messed up when you leave the bus and walk through the Lechemere wind tunnel. Also, it's not like she was trying to impress someone who rides the bus. (There is no one of interest on the bus. They are all taken. All the cool kids have cars anyway).
Basically, the point of this story is, now even waiting for the bus means terrible things could happen like getting a stranger's hair in your coffee. Awesome.
In the spring and summer and early fall I almost don't mind the bus wait, because it is usually a pleasant experience. I go to True Grounds for a coffee or a slice of banana bread. I read a book. I listen to my iPod. It's generally kind of nice and relaxing.
Today, I got out there early. Ran to get my first hot coffee beverage of the season (Medium Mocha with Skim milk), then went out to the bus stop and started waiting. As I am listening to my pod I see a golden blond strand of hair waft by my face. Then another. And another. One almost blows in my mouth as I take a sip of my delectable coffee.
Disgusted, I look around. A woman is brushing her hair at the bus stop.
Okay, maybe she didn't have time to get this done in the comfort of her home in front of her vanity. I know I am one to rush out the door before putting on my makeup. Sometimes I haven't even dried my hair. I am not one to judge others for running late and needing to do things on the fly.
However, this woman's hair looked fine. She was sort of like Marcia Brady who used to brush 100 strokes in order to have glossy Panteve Pro-V hair model hair. Thus, the brushing at the bus stop was completely unneccessary and served no real purpose. (I could almost understand if she had rats nest hair and had to make herself presentable. That wasn't the case.)
Furthermore, if she wanted to put in her neccessary 100 strokes, she should just wait til she got to work or wherever she was going. There is no point to brush your hair that much pre-commute. It's only gonna get messed up when you leave the bus and walk through the Lechemere wind tunnel. Also, it's not like she was trying to impress someone who rides the bus. (There is no one of interest on the bus. They are all taken. All the cool kids have cars anyway).
Basically, the point of this story is, now even waiting for the bus means terrible things could happen like getting a stranger's hair in your coffee. Awesome.
Tuesday 28 August 2007
Je deteste raisins in baked goods...
...and it turns out I am not the only one! This wins the award of best t-shirt design of the day, as found on Threadless and brought to my attention by LJ.
I don't want you guys to think I am a raisin hater, though. I really like raisins actually. I just don't like when the invade baked goods like cookies, muffins, and cakes. The only bits that should be in those sugar confections are things that come in the form of morsels like chocolate, peanut butter, butterscotch and other candy related items. There is no need to add the raisin or even craisin with their weird texture. Whenever a raisin surprises me in a baked good my first thought is that maybe a fly fell in the batter. Then, after the examination of the chewy bit of brown mush reveals it to be a raisin, I am generally just as disturbed by my findings as I would have been if it had been a fly. It's especially upsetting if it is a cookie and you see the dark brown specks and assume they are chocolate chips only to be sorely disappointed by the fact they are raisins.
Furthermore, why do some people insist on adding raisins to oatmeal? Not too long ago I was at Johnny D's and I made the terrible mistake of starting with oatmeal instead of cheesy grits. Had I known the oatmeal would come with raisins floating in it like drowning beetles I would have requested they be removed. There is something about the gooey goodness of oatmeal that should be left pure, with only the addition of brown sugar, maple syrup, and on the rare occassion fresh fruit to enhance the oaty flavor.
I know, I know, some of you are texture-philes and like the chewy dried grapes added to your baked goods and oatmeal and maybe even your chicken salad (gross!) but I for one would prefer they be left to be eaten from those tiny boxes as an after school snack.
P.S. If I could meet one person who was alive, dead, or animated, it would be the Sunmaid herself. I'd love to be able to explain to her my views on raisins, and convince her to help me in my fight against raisins in baked goods. I am sure she'd agree that raisins are best enjoyed straight from the box as they are a healthy and delicious snack for kids. Also, I'd love to spend time in her magical vineyard and watch how the sparkling sun dries the grapes and transforms them into raisins. How interesting it would be to learn about the process from the Sunmaid herself! Her fabulous personality as well as her knowledge on organic raisin making makes her my favorite of all of the animated food characters.
I don't want you guys to think I am a raisin hater, though. I really like raisins actually. I just don't like when the invade baked goods like cookies, muffins, and cakes. The only bits that should be in those sugar confections are things that come in the form of morsels like chocolate, peanut butter, butterscotch and other candy related items. There is no need to add the raisin or even craisin with their weird texture. Whenever a raisin surprises me in a baked good my first thought is that maybe a fly fell in the batter. Then, after the examination of the chewy bit of brown mush reveals it to be a raisin, I am generally just as disturbed by my findings as I would have been if it had been a fly. It's especially upsetting if it is a cookie and you see the dark brown specks and assume they are chocolate chips only to be sorely disappointed by the fact they are raisins.Furthermore, why do some people insist on adding raisins to oatmeal? Not too long ago I was at Johnny D's and I made the terrible mistake of starting with oatmeal instead of cheesy grits. Had I known the oatmeal would come with raisins floating in it like drowning beetles I would have requested they be removed. There is something about the gooey goodness of oatmeal that should be left pure, with only the addition of brown sugar, maple syrup, and on the rare occassion fresh fruit to enhance the oaty flavor.
I know, I know, some of you are texture-philes and like the chewy dried grapes added to your baked goods and oatmeal and maybe even your chicken salad (gross!) but I for one would prefer they be left to be eaten from those tiny boxes as an after school snack.
P.S. If I could meet one person who was alive, dead, or animated, it would be the Sunmaid herself. I'd love to be able to explain to her my views on raisins, and convince her to help me in my fight against raisins in baked goods. I am sure she'd agree that raisins are best enjoyed straight from the box as they are a healthy and delicious snack for kids. Also, I'd love to spend time in her magical vineyard and watch how the sparkling sun dries the grapes and transforms them into raisins. How interesting it would be to learn about the process from the Sunmaid herself! Her fabulous personality as well as her knowledge on organic raisin making makes her my favorite of all of the animated food characters.
Tuesday 21 August 2007
Everyone is Average (Except for me- and Brooke!)
My new roommate Brooke and I were having a very philosophical discussion the other day about our number one favorite subject- our height, or rather our lack thereof (Brooke is also freakishly short like me, although supposedly she is a little taller, but marginally so). We swapped life stories that were surprisingly similar, and thus this post was born. I realized since I had a lot of common misconceptions about people who are taller than me, you taller than me people might have some misconceptions about me. This should clear things up for you.
I'm short, and I like it.
Okay, so I like to complain about my height when I can't find the perfect pair of jeans (they don't exist) or when the world seems to be made for average/tall people. But, despite the fact that bartenders might not notice me right away as I peer over the top of the bar hoping for a beer, I have to admit, being short is better than being average. Here's why: I get to be adorable. I am not the prettiest girl in the world, but I always win on cuteness when in a crowd of people who are taller than me. Plus, I am not so painfully short it is awkward, I am like, stick me in your back pocket goddamn adorable. Once when I used to be a field hockey star one of my co-players said, "you are like a christmas cookie." I am not sure what that means exactly, but I think it means I am like a gingerbread girl, which I take as compliment. I mean, if people are going to be throwing around nicknames and metaphors, I'd certainly rather Little Bite-sized Jenn than Tall Freak of a Giraffe Girl. Yeah that's right, I said it.
I want you to help me reach things off of high shelves.
Sometimes when I am climbing up the shelves in the grocery store trying to get that last box of corn muffin mix, I am secretly hoping that some tall person will help me. Just because I seem like an independent person because I have single handedly constructed a ladder out of canned tomatoes and coffee tins doesn't mean I don't need your help. Also, sometimes it doesn't even occur to me that there is someone out there who can help me. I think it was sophomore year of college when I realized that most people could easily reach the top of the wardrobe. Liz, if I recall, used to store items up there, snacks even. If I needed anything from the top of the wardrobe I would have to stand on my desk on my tippy toes to reach. The day I saw Liz casually reach up to grab a box of cereal without even exerting the slightest bit of energy, I was flabbergasted. I realized then and there that Liz could help me and have since been using her to reach tall things for me. I also use my sister Stacey for this same purpose. She is only 4 inches taller than me but she has monkey arms. Seriously.
I have no idea how tall you are.
Everyone taller than me is considered average. Even if you are only 5'2". If you are 5'2" and you are complaining to me about being short, then you need to remember I am 4 inches shorter. The only time you are not considered average in my brain is if you are freakishly tall. Then you are freakishly tall.
Since I am short, I deserve the size small t-shirt.
Remember how in school sometimes for field day or sports teams you got free t-shirts to wear? Well, guess who always got stuck with the ridiculously oversized ones? That would be me. After years and years of suffering with giant shirts, now the least you could do is offer me the small free t-shirt. My The Best Girls Root For Boston t-shirt was earned for free in a bar, and the promotional guy who was handing them out originally gave me a size large and then looked at me and said, "Oh no, hold on" and dug around for a small. We became instant best friends after that. That's all it takes to win my heart. It is my number 1 pet peeve when girls who are 5'10" take the size smalls because their supermodel bodies require them. No girls, you don't need a small as much as me. I might not be as skinny as you, but a size large on me is far more ridiculous than on you. I could add a belt to a size large and call it a dress and no one would be the wiser.
If you are average, I hope this cleared things up for you. I will try as well to be considerate of the fact that you are average as long as you help me reach high things and promise to trade shirts if I get stuck with a large.
I'm short, and I like it.
Okay, so I like to complain about my height when I can't find the perfect pair of jeans (they don't exist) or when the world seems to be made for average/tall people. But, despite the fact that bartenders might not notice me right away as I peer over the top of the bar hoping for a beer, I have to admit, being short is better than being average. Here's why: I get to be adorable. I am not the prettiest girl in the world, but I always win on cuteness when in a crowd of people who are taller than me. Plus, I am not so painfully short it is awkward, I am like, stick me in your back pocket goddamn adorable. Once when I used to be a field hockey star one of my co-players said, "you are like a christmas cookie." I am not sure what that means exactly, but I think it means I am like a gingerbread girl, which I take as compliment. I mean, if people are going to be throwing around nicknames and metaphors, I'd certainly rather Little Bite-sized Jenn than Tall Freak of a Giraffe Girl. Yeah that's right, I said it.
I want you to help me reach things off of high shelves.
Sometimes when I am climbing up the shelves in the grocery store trying to get that last box of corn muffin mix, I am secretly hoping that some tall person will help me. Just because I seem like an independent person because I have single handedly constructed a ladder out of canned tomatoes and coffee tins doesn't mean I don't need your help. Also, sometimes it doesn't even occur to me that there is someone out there who can help me. I think it was sophomore year of college when I realized that most people could easily reach the top of the wardrobe. Liz, if I recall, used to store items up there, snacks even. If I needed anything from the top of the wardrobe I would have to stand on my desk on my tippy toes to reach. The day I saw Liz casually reach up to grab a box of cereal without even exerting the slightest bit of energy, I was flabbergasted. I realized then and there that Liz could help me and have since been using her to reach tall things for me. I also use my sister Stacey for this same purpose. She is only 4 inches taller than me but she has monkey arms. Seriously.
I have no idea how tall you are.
Everyone taller than me is considered average. Even if you are only 5'2". If you are 5'2" and you are complaining to me about being short, then you need to remember I am 4 inches shorter. The only time you are not considered average in my brain is if you are freakishly tall. Then you are freakishly tall.
Since I am short, I deserve the size small t-shirt.
Remember how in school sometimes for field day or sports teams you got free t-shirts to wear? Well, guess who always got stuck with the ridiculously oversized ones? That would be me. After years and years of suffering with giant shirts, now the least you could do is offer me the small free t-shirt. My The Best Girls Root For Boston t-shirt was earned for free in a bar, and the promotional guy who was handing them out originally gave me a size large and then looked at me and said, "Oh no, hold on" and dug around for a small. We became instant best friends after that. That's all it takes to win my heart. It is my number 1 pet peeve when girls who are 5'10" take the size smalls because their supermodel bodies require them. No girls, you don't need a small as much as me. I might not be as skinny as you, but a size large on me is far more ridiculous than on you. I could add a belt to a size large and call it a dress and no one would be the wiser.
If you are average, I hope this cleared things up for you. I will try as well to be considerate of the fact that you are average as long as you help me reach high things and promise to trade shirts if I get stuck with a large.
Saturday 18 August 2007
To-Do List Updates (part 2, I think)
I've been away for a week, and I think it is time for some updating. Also, I am adding a goal (number 9).
Number 1: Learn to surf. This past week I was on the Cape and happened to visit the "Secret Surf Break of 2007" daily. Not because I was learning to surf, but because it was the only beach my family could get into. And I think we all know that it wasn't actually a prime surfing spot because (a) this is Cape Cod we are talking about here and (b) the only surfing that was being done was people doing nosedives into rocks. Needless to say, I haven't learned to surf yet. Still holding out for Costa Rica. I actually am surprised I haven't gone to Costa Rica yet. I think it is on the list of free trips I have earned through work come next summer. However, do I really want to wait until Summer 2008 to go to Costa Rica? Plus, isn't that the rainy season? Plus, there are many reasons why I shouldn't count on work to send me for free.
Number 2: I'd say I am well on my way to completing this one. Granted, I haven't actually seen a bean, and as Diane says I need to thin out my little seedlings to make those work, but I think we can all say that I did grow something before killing it. I love being vague on my to-do list. Eureka--this one is done!( P.S. I bought a new watering can that is going to be the cover of my new book "The Apartment Gardener." If you can't see the picture today, check again tomorrow. I may not have posted it yet.)
Number 3: Music music music. One time I tried to get my Dad to teach me how to play the guitar. It hurt my fingers and did I mention I am not the musical one in the family? I blamed my lack of skill on the strings being too difficult for a beginner. I think the lessons lasted a period of one day before I quit. Although I have not signed up for electric guitar lessons as of this moment, I think the second time is a charm. Wait, years and years of catch phrases and sayings just caught up to me and is informing me that the third time is a charm. Who came up with that and why? You know it must have been some over-achieving kid's parents who thought this one up. Their kid was about to throw a temper tantrum because he failed twice at something (I am too tired to really think of something clever here) and then they said, "you know honey, try again, third times a charm." And that time, boy, he was successful. I certainly hope so anyway. You can only mess up so many times before you're an idiot for not getting it right. Okay, so here's a call for drummers and electric guitar players. Share your secrets with me and I will make you several batches of my world famous banana chocolate chip muffins. I'm not kidding. Surely your time is worth several muffins, eh?
Number 4: Learn to draw again. Yes, I have relearned drawing, so I'd like to cross this off my list. However, I am going to kick this goal up a notch and make it-- keep drawing. Just keep on drawing. I am the queen of forgetting what makes me happy and taking that drawing class reminded me that I love drawing. So, I am going to stop collecting art supplies and letting them sit in my closet. Instead, I am going to fill up all of the empty sketchbooks, set up my gorgeous french easel, and let the creative juices flow once and for all. Brilliant. Just thinking about it makes me tired, so as soon as I finish this post I think I will take a nap.
Number 5: Okay, so I know on my initial update of the List, I said I was really close to this goal. I have to admit I fell off the wagon. A situation presented itself and I really needed some shoes. I can't say exactly what this situation was because it may or may not have to do with the fact that I am an undercover spy and I had a top secret mission where it was absolutely neccessary to have a new pair of beautiful Italian heels. To see them would be to fall in love with them. Really, I know I don't need to justify myself here because this is my shoe problem and not yours, but my other black shoes broke, and they needed to be replaced. Immediately. So, that was a couple of weeks ago. By the end of this month I should be allowed a new pair of shoes without breaking the one month rule. (Thank goodness, because fall shoes could possibly be my favorite.)
Number 6: Sugar art. LJ says we have a candy thermometer. I say, excellent. Then I remembered, melted sugar is scorching hot. I need some silicone gloves for protetction. I've been on the lookout, but something tells me you won't find those in your neighborhood Williams Sonoma. Have you ever had that unfounded feeling you will be good at something? Well, every since I realized I was a paper sculpting genius in 5th period study hall senior year of high school, I have known I was meant to put my 3D art skills to better use. Sugar show pieces are my calling. I am sure of it.
Number 7: I haven't written anything other than this blog lately. I am contemplating taking a humor writing class to get started. I don't really find myself funny, but my mom thinks I am hysterical.
[Sidenote: I have started writing a work of literary fiction in my head.. What I hope to happen (and this could be wishful thinking) is to write Novel A in my head in its entirety, then take a long weekend to type it up as a readable manuscript, then, send it off to the publishers. Who the heck these people are I have no idea, but details details. Then, once everyone loves it because surely they will- it's genius- I am going to send the completed book off to my Jr year English teacher and say, 'Hey, guess what, I wrote this in one draft over the course of one weekend and NOBODY peer edited it for me. What have you gotten published lately?' Did I mention I still have rage against my HS English teacher? Yup, I won't lie that getting something published is basically to spite him.]
Number 8: I think I am the world's worst running trainee. (1) I have hardly ran at all this summer; instead have been enjoying the elliptical machines in the cool, air conditioned confines of Healthworks. (2) After finally biting the bullet and running outside at the Cape, I realized there is no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I am going to be able to pull off a 5k in thirty minutes anytime soon unless I really start trying. I could barely finish 1.3 miles in 15 minutes. Even though I am not as good at math as Stacey, I am pretty sure if I can't do the FIRST 1.3 miles in 15 minutes then I won't be able to do the second 1.8 miles in 15 minutes. (3) Did I mention I hate running? I do. I really really do.
Number 9: Sell items of my own making. Okay, so almost my whole life I have been a crafty person. However, I have not really been able to use these powers for good, yet. I have been hoarding them actually and no one has been able to benefit from my craftiness. I found a website that sells works of artisans all of the country (maybe world) and I am going to make some items to sell on there. Once that takes off, I can quit my day job and focus on the To-Do List. Once I have some of my wares online I will share the website with all of you. (I don't recommend holding your beath, if this item goes as well as the previous 8, it could take a while for this to be a reality).
Okay-- so in a nutshell-- items left to complete--- all of them (although I do give myself props for not killing the plants yet). I am so good at this making a list and getting it done, it is not even funny. No, really, it's not.
Number 1: Learn to surf. This past week I was on the Cape and happened to visit the "Secret Surf Break of 2007" daily. Not because I was learning to surf, but because it was the only beach my family could get into. And I think we all know that it wasn't actually a prime surfing spot because (a) this is Cape Cod we are talking about here and (b) the only surfing that was being done was people doing nosedives into rocks. Needless to say, I haven't learned to surf yet. Still holding out for Costa Rica. I actually am surprised I haven't gone to Costa Rica yet. I think it is on the list of free trips I have earned through work come next summer. However, do I really want to wait until Summer 2008 to go to Costa Rica? Plus, isn't that the rainy season? Plus, there are many reasons why I shouldn't count on work to send me for free.
Number 2: I'd say I am well on my way to completing this one. Granted, I haven't actually seen a bean, and as Diane says I need to thin out my little seedlings to make those work, but I think we can all say that I did grow something before killing it. I love being vague on my to-do list. Eureka--this one is done!( P.S. I bought a new watering can that is going to be the cover of my new book "The Apartment Gardener." If you can't see the picture today, check again tomorrow. I may not have posted it yet.)
Number 3: Music music music. One time I tried to get my Dad to teach me how to play the guitar. It hurt my fingers and did I mention I am not the musical one in the family? I blamed my lack of skill on the strings being too difficult for a beginner. I think the lessons lasted a period of one day before I quit. Although I have not signed up for electric guitar lessons as of this moment, I think the second time is a charm. Wait, years and years of catch phrases and sayings just caught up to me and is informing me that the third time is a charm. Who came up with that and why? You know it must have been some over-achieving kid's parents who thought this one up. Their kid was about to throw a temper tantrum because he failed twice at something (I am too tired to really think of something clever here) and then they said, "you know honey, try again, third times a charm." And that time, boy, he was successful. I certainly hope so anyway. You can only mess up so many times before you're an idiot for not getting it right. Okay, so here's a call for drummers and electric guitar players. Share your secrets with me and I will make you several batches of my world famous banana chocolate chip muffins. I'm not kidding. Surely your time is worth several muffins, eh?
Number 4: Learn to draw again. Yes, I have relearned drawing, so I'd like to cross this off my list. However, I am going to kick this goal up a notch and make it-- keep drawing. Just keep on drawing. I am the queen of forgetting what makes me happy and taking that drawing class reminded me that I love drawing. So, I am going to stop collecting art supplies and letting them sit in my closet. Instead, I am going to fill up all of the empty sketchbooks, set up my gorgeous french easel, and let the creative juices flow once and for all. Brilliant. Just thinking about it makes me tired, so as soon as I finish this post I think I will take a nap.
Number 5: Okay, so I know on my initial update of the List, I said I was really close to this goal. I have to admit I fell off the wagon. A situation presented itself and I really needed some shoes. I can't say exactly what this situation was because it may or may not have to do with the fact that I am an undercover spy and I had a top secret mission where it was absolutely neccessary to have a new pair of beautiful Italian heels. To see them would be to fall in love with them. Really, I know I don't need to justify myself here because this is my shoe problem and not yours, but my other black shoes broke, and they needed to be replaced. Immediately. So, that was a couple of weeks ago. By the end of this month I should be allowed a new pair of shoes without breaking the one month rule. (Thank goodness, because fall shoes could possibly be my favorite.)
Number 6: Sugar art. LJ says we have a candy thermometer. I say, excellent. Then I remembered, melted sugar is scorching hot. I need some silicone gloves for protetction. I've been on the lookout, but something tells me you won't find those in your neighborhood Williams Sonoma. Have you ever had that unfounded feeling you will be good at something? Well, every since I realized I was a paper sculpting genius in 5th period study hall senior year of high school, I have known I was meant to put my 3D art skills to better use. Sugar show pieces are my calling. I am sure of it.
Number 7: I haven't written anything other than this blog lately. I am contemplating taking a humor writing class to get started. I don't really find myself funny, but my mom thinks I am hysterical.
[Sidenote: I have started writing a work of literary fiction in my head.. What I hope to happen (and this could be wishful thinking) is to write Novel A in my head in its entirety, then take a long weekend to type it up as a readable manuscript, then, send it off to the publishers. Who the heck these people are I have no idea, but details details. Then, once everyone loves it because surely they will- it's genius- I am going to send the completed book off to my Jr year English teacher and say, 'Hey, guess what, I wrote this in one draft over the course of one weekend and NOBODY peer edited it for me. What have you gotten published lately?' Did I mention I still have rage against my HS English teacher? Yup, I won't lie that getting something published is basically to spite him.]
Number 8: I think I am the world's worst running trainee. (1) I have hardly ran at all this summer; instead have been enjoying the elliptical machines in the cool, air conditioned confines of Healthworks. (2) After finally biting the bullet and running outside at the Cape, I realized there is no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I am going to be able to pull off a 5k in thirty minutes anytime soon unless I really start trying. I could barely finish 1.3 miles in 15 minutes. Even though I am not as good at math as Stacey, I am pretty sure if I can't do the FIRST 1.3 miles in 15 minutes then I won't be able to do the second 1.8 miles in 15 minutes. (3) Did I mention I hate running? I do. I really really do.
Number 9: Sell items of my own making. Okay, so almost my whole life I have been a crafty person. However, I have not really been able to use these powers for good, yet. I have been hoarding them actually and no one has been able to benefit from my craftiness. I found a website that sells works of artisans all of the country (maybe world) and I am going to make some items to sell on there. Once that takes off, I can quit my day job and focus on the To-Do List. Once I have some of my wares online I will share the website with all of you. (I don't recommend holding your beath, if this item goes as well as the previous 8, it could take a while for this to be a reality).
Okay-- so in a nutshell-- items left to complete--- all of them (although I do give myself props for not killing the plants yet). I am so good at this making a list and getting it done, it is not even funny. No, really, it's not.
The Car Search (Part 1)
So recently, I have decided I want a car. I know nothing will ever replace Mini-Me, but I think it is time for me to move on with my life and join the ranks of those who drive.
[Did you know I hate the bus? Today I took a bus from Eastham to Hyannis. Then another bus from Hyannis to Boston. Did I mention that we had to get off route 6 at every town to do a loop in empty parking lots to pick up people who weren't there and then merge back into the traffic? Also, once I arrived in Boston, I then had to take the T and then another bus-- okay the second bus was by choice and because I didn't feel like walking the 7.5 minutes to my apartment from the T-stop, but still. It was a lot of transportation for one day. And it took over 4 hours in total. If I had a car I would have been home in half the time, no walking required.]
Now, I do have a few specifications of what I am looking for and although some may call me picky and even finicky, the truth is I am actually no more than just a little particular. Here is what I want in a car- if you have any leads on cars that meet the following requirements, please do let me know.
Requirement 1: Old. I do not want a new car. I know this sounds silly, but I have never felt comfortable driving a new car unless it is a Mini Cooper. Since I cannot afford a Mini Cooper, why settle for a new non-Mini Cooper? Instead, I'd rather a car that is well in its years. I think the newest car I'd like is a 2000. I have always felt the year 00 is a good year for cars. Maybe it is because of all the hype in general about that year that makes me feel that way, but anyway, that's as young as I'd like. I'm also a bit of a daredevil, so I like to feel as though I am about to die while driving. Gives me that rush, you know.
Requirement 2: I like 2 doors. I also like Hatchbacks. I live in a city. This means, I don't want a large boat of a car. The only large vehicle I'd ever consider driving is a VW bus or an old camper. Only because that would be highly impractical for a city girl such as myself and thus hysterical. I never said my reasons for wanting what I want is logical.
Requirement 3: Cheap. I do not make gobs of money at my job. I also do not need to drive this car every day. It seems silly for me to spend a lot of money on a car that I won't use daily, and I also hate monthly payments. I know this is probably low, but I really would only like to spend about $3000 on this car. (I found this 2002 Mini Cooper online for only $2900. Unfortunately it was a total scam. Fortunately, I am smart enough to figure that out before wiring off my savings to some man in Idaho-- or was it Iowa?)
Preference 1: Standard transmission. I know I will probably kick myself if I actually get a standard car and then keep getting stuck in traffic. However, that one summer when I drove stick I really enjoyed it. I tend to get bored in a car. And if I am getting a car that is old and cheap, I can't count on having a stereo system. Driving standard will give me something to do if I am forced to ride in silence.
Preference 2: Colors I like in cars, in order-- any green besides hunter green, red, dark gray or black, lemon yellow, orange, brown, blue.
Prefernce 3: I like VW Cabrios and Cabriolets. I like Saab 900 series hatchbacks. I like 2 door Nissans. I like other VWs as long as they are small. I love Mini Coopers. I'd also take an old beetle. Really, if it is adorable and small and described as a fun ride, I'd probably like it.
If you know anyone who is selling a car, let me know.
Also, Mom, I do not want your Saturn.
[Did you know I hate the bus? Today I took a bus from Eastham to Hyannis. Then another bus from Hyannis to Boston. Did I mention that we had to get off route 6 at every town to do a loop in empty parking lots to pick up people who weren't there and then merge back into the traffic? Also, once I arrived in Boston, I then had to take the T and then another bus-- okay the second bus was by choice and because I didn't feel like walking the 7.5 minutes to my apartment from the T-stop, but still. It was a lot of transportation for one day. And it took over 4 hours in total. If I had a car I would have been home in half the time, no walking required.]
Now, I do have a few specifications of what I am looking for and although some may call me picky and even finicky, the truth is I am actually no more than just a little particular. Here is what I want in a car- if you have any leads on cars that meet the following requirements, please do let me know.
Requirement 1: Old. I do not want a new car. I know this sounds silly, but I have never felt comfortable driving a new car unless it is a Mini Cooper. Since I cannot afford a Mini Cooper, why settle for a new non-Mini Cooper? Instead, I'd rather a car that is well in its years. I think the newest car I'd like is a 2000. I have always felt the year 00 is a good year for cars. Maybe it is because of all the hype in general about that year that makes me feel that way, but anyway, that's as young as I'd like. I'm also a bit of a daredevil, so I like to feel as though I am about to die while driving. Gives me that rush, you know.
Requirement 2: I like 2 doors. I also like Hatchbacks. I live in a city. This means, I don't want a large boat of a car. The only large vehicle I'd ever consider driving is a VW bus or an old camper. Only because that would be highly impractical for a city girl such as myself and thus hysterical. I never said my reasons for wanting what I want is logical.
Requirement 3: Cheap. I do not make gobs of money at my job. I also do not need to drive this car every day. It seems silly for me to spend a lot of money on a car that I won't use daily, and I also hate monthly payments. I know this is probably low, but I really would only like to spend about $3000 on this car. (I found this 2002 Mini Cooper online for only $2900. Unfortunately it was a total scam. Fortunately, I am smart enough to figure that out before wiring off my savings to some man in Idaho-- or was it Iowa?)
Preference 1: Standard transmission. I know I will probably kick myself if I actually get a standard car and then keep getting stuck in traffic. However, that one summer when I drove stick I really enjoyed it. I tend to get bored in a car. And if I am getting a car that is old and cheap, I can't count on having a stereo system. Driving standard will give me something to do if I am forced to ride in silence.
Preference 2: Colors I like in cars, in order-- any green besides hunter green, red, dark gray or black, lemon yellow, orange, brown, blue.
Prefernce 3: I like VW Cabrios and Cabriolets. I like Saab 900 series hatchbacks. I like 2 door Nissans. I like other VWs as long as they are small. I love Mini Coopers. I'd also take an old beetle. Really, if it is adorable and small and described as a fun ride, I'd probably like it.
If you know anyone who is selling a car, let me know.
Also, Mom, I do not want your Saturn.
Tuesday 7 August 2007
Don't get too excited, but...
I grew these!
There is still plenty of time to kill the little buggers yet, but it's a good sign that they grew at all. That's more than I can say for attempts zero and negative one which were such failures I couldn't even assign them positive numbers.
This is an extremely inaccurate chart. First, I made up the data. Well, I didn't make up the data as much as I made up the fact that I was diligently checking the growth over a set number of days. I checked it one random day and it was the height of my pinky finger. The next time I checked it was as large as my thumb (later that afternoon, perhaps?). Some other day in the near future it was as tall as my middle finger and today it is as high as my wrist bone. I can't be sure if my first check was 4 days ago or more or less but it was certainly faster than expected. If I was in 2nd grade math I would probably fail. Or maybe just my parents would get a letter sent home informing them that not only am I making up research, but also that I don't know how to use a ruler. I can imagine my parents reading that letter, shaking their heads and setting me up at the kitchen table with a ruler and various objects to measure as practice. And I'd probably get a lecture on not making up research. I have to wonder, is making up stuff worse than plagiarizing?
Along the subject of elementary school math, I was terrible at my times tables. Also counting money. And time. How I survive life now I have no idea.
There is still plenty of time to kill the little buggers yet, but it's a good sign that they grew at all. That's more than I can say for attempts zero and negative one which were such failures I couldn't even assign them positive numbers.
This is an extremely inaccurate chart. First, I made up the data. Well, I didn't make up the data as much as I made up the fact that I was diligently checking the growth over a set number of days. I checked it one random day and it was the height of my pinky finger. The next time I checked it was as large as my thumb (later that afternoon, perhaps?). Some other day in the near future it was as tall as my middle finger and today it is as high as my wrist bone. I can't be sure if my first check was 4 days ago or more or less but it was certainly faster than expected. If I was in 2nd grade math I would probably fail. Or maybe just my parents would get a letter sent home informing them that not only am I making up research, but also that I don't know how to use a ruler. I can imagine my parents reading that letter, shaking their heads and setting me up at the kitchen table with a ruler and various objects to measure as practice. And I'd probably get a lecture on not making up research. I have to wonder, is making up stuff worse than plagiarizing?
Along the subject of elementary school math, I was terrible at my times tables. Also counting money. And time. How I survive life now I have no idea.
Monday 6 August 2007
Drug Free in 2003
When driving back from Duxbury after this awesome day at the beach, I saw a sign for DRUG FREE ZONE. I was a little confused, because I thought the entire United States was a drug free zone. Granted, I know prescription drugs are allowed (real ones, not San Fran brownies, Brooke), but I am pretty sure that sign wasn't talking about a Zoloft and Ambien free zone. Ollie and her sister were watching that showtime series Weed on demand, and the episode was on was when this townsperson (who is played by the women who is in the movie Big, but she didn't look like she was that old now, so maybe I am wrong) put up a sign to declare a certain area of the city drug free and I had to question that, too. If anything, it is a little braggy. It's like the town is saying "Lookee here, we can stop the drug dealers and addicts with our shmancy signs. See if any druggies try to do drugs in this stretch of 20 yards. We've shown them."
I think having signs that say DRUG FREE ZONE actually make it more likely that people will start doing drugs once they are outside the zone. Also, the sign wasn't very specific. It didn't say how large the zone was. I mean, is it like a school zone? Is there a certain area that is being designated drug free, or is it just a reminder in general? (I see it playing out like this:"No, no, don't do drugs there. That's a drug free zone! You'll get in trouble. Come over here, where the yellow curb ends. Now we can do drugs.")
Also, I was under the impression that drugs were illegal (isn't that what I learned in D.A.R.E.?). If we are posting signs that say DRUG FREE ZONE do we also need to add in signs for THEFT FREE ZONE or MURDER FREE ZONE, just in case people forget what is illegal?
I mean, I could be totally off base here. I realize, signs aren't the end-all, be-all of truth and what's right. Obviously, if you see a sign for a duck crossing that isn't the only place you will see a duck cross a road. Ducks can't read signs. They will cross the road wherever they feel like it so you shouldn't assume that you should only be cautious of ducks crossing the road where the sign is. Granted, if a duck crossed the road not at the sign, I am not sure if you can really get in trouble if you hit one, because how on earth did you know there could be a duck there? It goes both ways, I guess.
Sort of speaking of, when I was younger crosswalks always confused me. They would have the WALK signal and the DONT WALK signal, but the WALK would never be on for long enough to get across the street. Thus, when DONT WALK flickered on my two instincts would be to (a) Run or (b) Stop. Fortunately I was bright enough to run and not stop in the middle of the road, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone else made that mistake. What I mean is, signs are confusing sometimes, even if to most people they seem straightforward.
I also used to think that the saying "Don't rain on my parade" was "Don't reign on my parade." In my head, these mean the same thing to this day. I imagine someone else dressed up as the Queen pretending to be in charge of my parade. It's my parade, goddammit. Don't ruin it for me by taking the best float that has the castle with the tower and the handsome prince in shining armor and leave me to ride on the float that isn't even a float but the back of someone's pick up truck. Gosh, don't reign on my parade you backstabbing stupidiot. It's my parade, not yours. I get the best float.
I guess I was just a confused kid in general, so maybe that explains why I don't get why these signs for drug free zones are popping up like daisies. Maybe to everyone else it is obvious. Thoughts?
I think having signs that say DRUG FREE ZONE actually make it more likely that people will start doing drugs once they are outside the zone. Also, the sign wasn't very specific. It didn't say how large the zone was. I mean, is it like a school zone? Is there a certain area that is being designated drug free, or is it just a reminder in general? (I see it playing out like this:"No, no, don't do drugs there. That's a drug free zone! You'll get in trouble. Come over here, where the yellow curb ends. Now we can do drugs.")
Also, I was under the impression that drugs were illegal (isn't that what I learned in D.A.R.E.?). If we are posting signs that say DRUG FREE ZONE do we also need to add in signs for THEFT FREE ZONE or MURDER FREE ZONE, just in case people forget what is illegal?
I mean, I could be totally off base here. I realize, signs aren't the end-all, be-all of truth and what's right. Obviously, if you see a sign for a duck crossing that isn't the only place you will see a duck cross a road. Ducks can't read signs. They will cross the road wherever they feel like it so you shouldn't assume that you should only be cautious of ducks crossing the road where the sign is. Granted, if a duck crossed the road not at the sign, I am not sure if you can really get in trouble if you hit one, because how on earth did you know there could be a duck there? It goes both ways, I guess.
Sort of speaking of, when I was younger crosswalks always confused me. They would have the WALK signal and the DONT WALK signal, but the WALK would never be on for long enough to get across the street. Thus, when DONT WALK flickered on my two instincts would be to (a) Run or (b) Stop. Fortunately I was bright enough to run and not stop in the middle of the road, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone else made that mistake. What I mean is, signs are confusing sometimes, even if to most people they seem straightforward.
I also used to think that the saying "Don't rain on my parade" was "Don't reign on my parade." In my head, these mean the same thing to this day. I imagine someone else dressed up as the Queen pretending to be in charge of my parade. It's my parade, goddammit. Don't ruin it for me by taking the best float that has the castle with the tower and the handsome prince in shining armor and leave me to ride on the float that isn't even a float but the back of someone's pick up truck. Gosh, don't reign on my parade you backstabbing stupidiot. It's my parade, not yours. I get the best float.
I guess I was just a confused kid in general, so maybe that explains why I don't get why these signs for drug free zones are popping up like daisies. Maybe to everyone else it is obvious. Thoughts?
Do you like molecular biology and winning stuff?
The one good thing about riding the bus is that is gives me plenty of time to think. Today I was thinking about how technology is evil. (No, I am not going to swear of electricity.) Mainly, the internet (Yes, I know I am using it now. I am aware of the fact I am a hypocrite). Sure, the internet is really great in the sense that you can find anything you need anytime you want and probably get it the next day. Some people might say that is a good thing, and sure, when you first find out you can order your Thai food online and avoid the language barrier you are like "Cool!" But if you think about it, it is really not cool at all. Here's why:
I am a true believer that the internet has made us less social as people. Sometimes in our apartment we would all have our laptops and be sitting on our couches, totally doing our own thing. This is okay because sometimes you just need to get stuff done online. If an outsider was looking in on us, though, I think s/he would be really sad. I mean, here are 4 interesting (okay 3, because the time I am referring to is when there were only 3 of us who were interesting) girls not talking to each other and more involved with a contraption that's basically a robot than each other. (Sometimes I joke that my work thinks I can only communicate with robots. Although it is fun to make fun of myself talking to robots all day in order to get my job done, it is a really sad thought that that is sort of my life).
Furthermore, we abuse our internet priviliges when we prefer to do things online than over the phone or even in person. Before the internet, people actually talked to other people. Now we IM and gchat (I like to call it google-talk but my roommate told me that is wrong and then I think she laughed at me on the inside. I usually try to hide the fact I am a loser and not really in-the-know but sometimes it slips out accidentally) and email and pay our bills and shop online etc. I got a text message once from Verizon telling me I should add IN texting because I text a lot of people every month. I looked at my statement, and for once appreciated Verizon for being so courteous and not trying to screw me over. So, I immediately went online, opened up my account and tried to set it up. A red notice popped up saying I am supposed to call Customer Service to add things to my cell phone package. Immediately and without warning, I became unreasonably agitated. I hated Verizon for making me pick up my phone and call them to do something that could have easily been done online. God forbid they make me actually talk to a real person. I then realized I was being ridiculous and that it is all because the internet has made me an idiot an unable to socialize. Maybe the people at work were right.
Every day when I ride the bus I see these advertisements for Windorphins. I actually find myself chanting Windorphins so that I will remember to look up the website when I get to work. I always forget, except for Saturday when bizarrely I wasn't even on the bus and I remembered and made my roommate look it up because she was at her computer and mine was way upstairs. I was so excited to find out what this Windorphins site was and ended up being sorely disappointed. It's some sort of a portal for eBay. I guess windorphins are what you call the things that are produced inside your body when you win something. And what is an easier way to boost your windorphins than when bidding on things (and winning them) on eBay? I thought the whole concept was ridiculous and I was right. What was even more telling though, is that eBay figured out this new marketing campaign for their online bidding site because they knew people were probably getting bored of the instant gratification that was occuring on eBay everyday. I mean sure, it is so exciting to find "It" but after you find seven "Its" without batting an eyelash, you get bored and you expect to find "It." Ebay knows that we are spoiled and don't even get excited about winning. EBay knows the internet is evil, but eBay is capitalizing on the fact we are spoiled little brats.
The truth is, though, once upon a time it was considered a novelty to be able to do things instantaneously. I bet instant win scratch tickets used to be really exciting. Now you would probably go to a 7/11 and win $200 and say "I guess that's cool." I can order a pizza online. I can get Amazon to ship me a book I feel like reading tomorrow because I am too lazy to walk across the street from work and buy it at Borders for the same price and it doesn't even affect me. (Books are really heavy, you know? Sometimes I don't want to lug it from the bus stop to my apartment.) I feel entitled to these services that are just so handy.
If someone had told me 10 years ago that now I would be able to order a pizza while gchatting with seven of my friends simultaneously and also shopping for shoes, that would have blown my mind. Now, I am like, "yeah, so what?" I am more upset if someone tells me I can't do that. The horror if the internet is down for a day-- how am I to find the information I need or look up Miss Piggy aerobic album covers?
So now, all because of the internet, I am spoiled. I want what I want and I want it now. The bus was late today, and I had a fleeting thought of "why didn't the bus website call me and tell me the bus was going to be late?" and then immediately thereafter realized that was ridiculous, although not far off from the imminent future- I mean, Orbitz does it for flights, am I right?
Now that I know the internet is evil and makes me stupid and spoiled, I am going to have to start anti-internet rallies. Who cares if the internet holds all sorts of useful information that you can access quickly and easily? It is a corrupting body and we should get rid of it. Instead, we should start to put our money towards innovations like cupholders on public buses (Today I was holding my cup and trying to flip the Metro pages while simultaneously changing the song on my iPod and I couldn't do it all. If I had a cupholder I would have been golden) and something that makes office buildings feel less like refrigerators.
I am a true believer that the internet has made us less social as people. Sometimes in our apartment we would all have our laptops and be sitting on our couches, totally doing our own thing. This is okay because sometimes you just need to get stuff done online. If an outsider was looking in on us, though, I think s/he would be really sad. I mean, here are 4 interesting (okay 3, because the time I am referring to is when there were only 3 of us who were interesting) girls not talking to each other and more involved with a contraption that's basically a robot than each other. (Sometimes I joke that my work thinks I can only communicate with robots. Although it is fun to make fun of myself talking to robots all day in order to get my job done, it is a really sad thought that that is sort of my life).
Furthermore, we abuse our internet priviliges when we prefer to do things online than over the phone or even in person. Before the internet, people actually talked to other people. Now we IM and gchat (I like to call it google-talk but my roommate told me that is wrong and then I think she laughed at me on the inside. I usually try to hide the fact I am a loser and not really in-the-know but sometimes it slips out accidentally) and email and pay our bills and shop online etc. I got a text message once from Verizon telling me I should add IN texting because I text a lot of people every month. I looked at my statement, and for once appreciated Verizon for being so courteous and not trying to screw me over. So, I immediately went online, opened up my account and tried to set it up. A red notice popped up saying I am supposed to call Customer Service to add things to my cell phone package. Immediately and without warning, I became unreasonably agitated. I hated Verizon for making me pick up my phone and call them to do something that could have easily been done online. God forbid they make me actually talk to a real person. I then realized I was being ridiculous and that it is all because the internet has made me an idiot an unable to socialize. Maybe the people at work were right.
Every day when I ride the bus I see these advertisements for Windorphins. I actually find myself chanting Windorphins so that I will remember to look up the website when I get to work. I always forget, except for Saturday when bizarrely I wasn't even on the bus and I remembered and made my roommate look it up because she was at her computer and mine was way upstairs. I was so excited to find out what this Windorphins site was and ended up being sorely disappointed. It's some sort of a portal for eBay. I guess windorphins are what you call the things that are produced inside your body when you win something. And what is an easier way to boost your windorphins than when bidding on things (and winning them) on eBay? I thought the whole concept was ridiculous and I was right. What was even more telling though, is that eBay figured out this new marketing campaign for their online bidding site because they knew people were probably getting bored of the instant gratification that was occuring on eBay everyday. I mean sure, it is so exciting to find "It" but after you find seven "Its" without batting an eyelash, you get bored and you expect to find "It." Ebay knows that we are spoiled and don't even get excited about winning. EBay knows the internet is evil, but eBay is capitalizing on the fact we are spoiled little brats.
The truth is, though, once upon a time it was considered a novelty to be able to do things instantaneously. I bet instant win scratch tickets used to be really exciting. Now you would probably go to a 7/11 and win $200 and say "I guess that's cool." I can order a pizza online. I can get Amazon to ship me a book I feel like reading tomorrow because I am too lazy to walk across the street from work and buy it at Borders for the same price and it doesn't even affect me. (Books are really heavy, you know? Sometimes I don't want to lug it from the bus stop to my apartment.) I feel entitled to these services that are just so handy.
If someone had told me 10 years ago that now I would be able to order a pizza while gchatting with seven of my friends simultaneously and also shopping for shoes, that would have blown my mind. Now, I am like, "yeah, so what?" I am more upset if someone tells me I can't do that. The horror if the internet is down for a day-- how am I to find the information I need or look up Miss Piggy aerobic album covers?
So now, all because of the internet, I am spoiled. I want what I want and I want it now. The bus was late today, and I had a fleeting thought of "why didn't the bus website call me and tell me the bus was going to be late?" and then immediately thereafter realized that was ridiculous, although not far off from the imminent future- I mean, Orbitz does it for flights, am I right?
Now that I know the internet is evil and makes me stupid and spoiled, I am going to have to start anti-internet rallies. Who cares if the internet holds all sorts of useful information that you can access quickly and easily? It is a corrupting body and we should get rid of it. Instead, we should start to put our money towards innovations like cupholders on public buses (Today I was holding my cup and trying to flip the Metro pages while simultaneously changing the song on my iPod and I couldn't do it all. If I had a cupholder I would have been golden) and something that makes office buildings feel less like refrigerators.
Thursday 2 August 2007
Nextel cell phones are really walkie-talkies
ON THE BUS, Yesterday- Just months after Nextel and Sprint's merge to become the New Sprint, a bumblebee colored cellular service provider, Nextel's long-kept secret was revealed: their cell phones are really walkie talkies.
"When we decided to form a union with Nextel, we had no idea the skeletons they had in their closet," said the CEO of the New Sprint at a press conference Monday. "After an investigation into said closet, we found the rumors to be true. Nextel cell phones really are walkie-talkies."
According to top secret sources who go by Fung Wah and Lucky Star, the employees at the Nextel factory in Beijing (or what they refer to as the Toy Factory) are encouraged to use their creativity when decorating children's play walkie-talkies to look like cell phones.
"We get the walkie talkies shipped in from Tawain, and then we are allowed to go to town. We can spray paint them in metallic colors, hot glue shiny things we found on the streets to use for buttons- anything to make the walkie-talkies look like cell phones is permitted, " reported Mr. Wah.
According to Ms. Star, the phones had no actual functionality as real cell phones. "Americans don't care how their phones work. They always talk about 'dropped calls' and 'no bars.' Cell phones not working is to be expected. We make that expectation a reality."
The number keys on these alleged phones worked to dial calls (or rather "change channels"), but text messaging was out. "When people complained they couldn't get the letters to spell out words, we blamed it on their lack of experience with the T9 function," said one Customer Service Representative. (To call customer service, Nextel users just had to switch their phones to the conveniant channel 9. Customer Service was available 24 hours a day, provided you were within a half mile radius.)
Once the "phones" arrive in the US, Nextel sales staff are trained in how to convince their consumers that they want the walkie-talkie service on their cell phone. "This isn't too hard," said one former Nextel sales rep who got canned after the merge, "All you have to do is remind the person about their best friend who used to live across the street and how they used tin cans tied with string to communicate. Their eyes get weepy and then they are sold on the walkie-talkie feature. Even our crappiest phone works better than a tin can."
The whole Nextel scandal was revealed one day when a Nextel customer dropped her "phone" on the bus going from Cambridge to Somerville. She had been happily beeping her way through a delightful conversation that everyone on the bus was privy to, when the vehicle hit a bump and her "phone" went flying. It landed on the foot of a cell phone connosseuir, Mr Dwight Sharp. One if its hastily stuck-on keys (the second 7) had broken off and it was the phone's shoddy craftmanship that caused Mr. Sharp to investigate further.
After pressing what he thought to be the volume on the side, the "phone" emitted a loud squeal that sounded like a cross between a goose and a baby gurgling. Then a voice came through the static. Although he couldn't decipher a word the person on the other side was saying he immediately recognized the device to be a walkie-talkie. As he handed it back to the woman who had dropped it, he suggested she "look into that."
She certainly did. As soon as she was within range of the Nextel Customer Service office, the duped women gave them an earful and threatened to sue in between blips and beeps of the phone/walkie talkie. Several other Nextel customers were rallied as well as many former Nextel employees who were disgruntled because their severence package after the merge was sub par. Shit certainly hit the fan when the suit went to Court, and even Chief Nextel officials couldn't sweet talk their way out of the walkie-talkie debacle.
The New Sprint has had minimal comments regarding the whole situation. Since they like their "new snazzy colors" they are afraid to drop the Nextel brand entirely, but selling walkie-talkies certainly isn't something they plan on continuing.
The general public, to be frank, was relieved. Most are fed up with the cell phones that acted like walkie-talkies anyway. "It was a trend that lasted far too long," comented one commuter. "I mean, why would we want our cell phones to work the way walkie-talkies do anyway? It was fun to have those as kids, but it seems silly to be saying 'Roger that' and 'Do you copy?' during my business conference calls."
Several others agreed that the walkie talkie phone was on its way out regardless of the scandal. Having to listen to other people shout into phones/walkie talkies almost caused one woman to have a conniption. In fact, a team of research scientists are currently working on a project that finds a correlation between walkie-talking bleeps on the way to work and the elusive case of the Mondays.
"When we decided to form a union with Nextel, we had no idea the skeletons they had in their closet," said the CEO of the New Sprint at a press conference Monday. "After an investigation into said closet, we found the rumors to be true. Nextel cell phones really are walkie-talkies."
According to top secret sources who go by Fung Wah and Lucky Star, the employees at the Nextel factory in Beijing (or what they refer to as the Toy Factory) are encouraged to use their creativity when decorating children's play walkie-talkies to look like cell phones.
"We get the walkie talkies shipped in from Tawain, and then we are allowed to go to town. We can spray paint them in metallic colors, hot glue shiny things we found on the streets to use for buttons- anything to make the walkie-talkies look like cell phones is permitted, " reported Mr. Wah.
According to Ms. Star, the phones had no actual functionality as real cell phones. "Americans don't care how their phones work. They always talk about 'dropped calls' and 'no bars.' Cell phones not working is to be expected. We make that expectation a reality."
The number keys on these alleged phones worked to dial calls (or rather "change channels"), but text messaging was out. "When people complained they couldn't get the letters to spell out words, we blamed it on their lack of experience with the T9 function," said one Customer Service Representative. (To call customer service, Nextel users just had to switch their phones to the conveniant channel 9. Customer Service was available 24 hours a day, provided you were within a half mile radius.)
Once the "phones" arrive in the US, Nextel sales staff are trained in how to convince their consumers that they want the walkie-talkie service on their cell phone. "This isn't too hard," said one former Nextel sales rep who got canned after the merge, "All you have to do is remind the person about their best friend who used to live across the street and how they used tin cans tied with string to communicate. Their eyes get weepy and then they are sold on the walkie-talkie feature. Even our crappiest phone works better than a tin can."
The whole Nextel scandal was revealed one day when a Nextel customer dropped her "phone" on the bus going from Cambridge to Somerville. She had been happily beeping her way through a delightful conversation that everyone on the bus was privy to, when the vehicle hit a bump and her "phone" went flying. It landed on the foot of a cell phone connosseuir, Mr Dwight Sharp. One if its hastily stuck-on keys (the second 7) had broken off and it was the phone's shoddy craftmanship that caused Mr. Sharp to investigate further.
After pressing what he thought to be the volume on the side, the "phone" emitted a loud squeal that sounded like a cross between a goose and a baby gurgling. Then a voice came through the static. Although he couldn't decipher a word the person on the other side was saying he immediately recognized the device to be a walkie-talkie. As he handed it back to the woman who had dropped it, he suggested she "look into that."
She certainly did. As soon as she was within range of the Nextel Customer Service office, the duped women gave them an earful and threatened to sue in between blips and beeps of the phone/walkie talkie. Several other Nextel customers were rallied as well as many former Nextel employees who were disgruntled because their severence package after the merge was sub par. Shit certainly hit the fan when the suit went to Court, and even Chief Nextel officials couldn't sweet talk their way out of the walkie-talkie debacle.
The New Sprint has had minimal comments regarding the whole situation. Since they like their "new snazzy colors" they are afraid to drop the Nextel brand entirely, but selling walkie-talkies certainly isn't something they plan on continuing.
The general public, to be frank, was relieved. Most are fed up with the cell phones that acted like walkie-talkies anyway. "It was a trend that lasted far too long," comented one commuter. "I mean, why would we want our cell phones to work the way walkie-talkies do anyway? It was fun to have those as kids, but it seems silly to be saying 'Roger that' and 'Do you copy?' during my business conference calls."
Several others agreed that the walkie talkie phone was on its way out regardless of the scandal. Having to listen to other people shout into phones/walkie talkies almost caused one woman to have a conniption. In fact, a team of research scientists are currently working on a project that finds a correlation between walkie-talking bleeps on the way to work and the elusive case of the Mondays.
Bored is the new blog
I was perusing craigslist's free section (I am not sure why I bother because I have never actually gone to pick up any of the free things that these people leave on the sides of their roads. Normally they are time sensitive ads and since I am at work there is no way I'd make it in time to pick up that baby grand piano that is missing a few keys, severely out of tune, and lacking legs). But seriously, this one takes the cake.
Free empty soda bottles and cans. Because the $2 I am going to earn by redeeming these is so worth my time and energy to go pick them up. I know some people (those less fortunate) go around and pick through trash looking for empty cans/bottles to bring to the grocery store to get some easy cash. However, these people most likely do not have internet access. No need to post your empty bottles on craigslist, people. That is just a waste of our time. Oh yeah, there was a photo too:
And in case you were in the market for air conditioners, these are so the ones I'd snag. Man, if you want to get rid of these ACs, I'd suggest leaving the photos out of the ad.
(The ad was classic, too. It made no guarentees that they actually worked. "Five years ago when I bought these they worked. Since then they've been sitting in the garage collecting rust.")
Free empty soda bottles and cans. Because the $2 I am going to earn by redeeming these is so worth my time and energy to go pick them up. I know some people (those less fortunate) go around and pick through trash looking for empty cans/bottles to bring to the grocery store to get some easy cash. However, these people most likely do not have internet access. No need to post your empty bottles on craigslist, people. That is just a waste of our time. Oh yeah, there was a photo too:
And in case you were in the market for air conditioners, these are so the ones I'd snag. Man, if you want to get rid of these ACs, I'd suggest leaving the photos out of the ad.
(The ad was classic, too. It made no guarentees that they actually worked. "Five years ago when I bought these they worked. Since then they've been sitting in the garage collecting rust.")
Wednesday 1 August 2007
I like pretty things
Sorry to get all girly on this blog, but as of late I have become obsessed with pretty things- especially jewelry. I think it might be partly due to the fact that I went to that art/craft fair in Davis two weekends ago and Newburyport this past weekend. There are just so many pretty things around! The posts below log what I have been dreaming about. Enjoy.
Kathy Bransfield
LJ and I went to Newburyport this past weekend and visited a lot of really cute shops. One such store had this great reusable lunch bag that I want (it was green AND it had strawberries on it! How perfect. At $18 for the bag, the price was not.) Anyway, that's not what this is about. While there, I also saw these great pendants by Kathy Bransfield. Since I love stars, these two designs are totally up my alley.
(A special note just to LJ: She also has a few charms that include text in brail! Thought you'd like that. I think one says "Love is blind." That might be too cheesey for you and your "I hate hearts" attitude, but I thought you'd appreciate it anyway.)
(A special note just to LJ: She also has a few charms that include text in brail! Thought you'd like that. I think one says "Love is blind." That might be too cheesey for you and your "I hate hearts" attitude, but I thought you'd appreciate it anyway.)
Pagliei Collection
Ages ago my roommate LJ was obsessed with these Pagliei dumpling charms. We were both thinking about them the other night, wishing we had Peirogi and Ravioli pendants to wear. These are the sort of trinkets that make me long for a charm bracelet. Who am I kidding- I don't need a charm bracelet to enjoy these dumplings. Tortellini looks great on a necklace.
I also love their new Waxing Poetic line. (I always loved sealing wax.) Currently I am looking for a pen pal so I can make use of the silver wax I just found in my room while cleaning. Don't tell my landlord though. She doesn't allow us to use candles, so I am sure lighting a bar of wax on fire to drip onto envelopes is also off limits. (Obviously I picked this particular image because it is a J. It's all about me.)
I also love their new Waxing Poetic line. (I always loved sealing wax.) Currently I am looking for a pen pal so I can make use of the silver wax I just found in my room while cleaning. Don't tell my landlord though. She doesn't allow us to use candles, so I am sure lighting a bar of wax on fire to drip onto envelopes is also off limits. (Obviously I picked this particular image because it is a J. It's all about me.)
Twigs and Heather
These cute designs by Twigs and Heather make me feel at one with nature. Once upon a time I really did used to like the great outdoors. Since I am a city girl now, I will have to settle on wearing one of these twigs around my neck and pretend to be camping in the wilderness.
Nancy Dobbs Owen
How pretty are these rings by Nancy Dobbs Owen? I saw these when I was in San Fran last summer at a store called Ooma. Of course, me being me, looked at them at the time and said to my roommate, Liz: "I can make these myself." It's been a year... have I made my own versions of these? Nope. I guess I will just have to use this as inspiration to get crafty. Maybe a year from now you will see me sporting my own beaded rings.
Monday 30 July 2007
A Brilliant Idea (courtesy of S)
Hello fans,
One of my new favorite commenters, S, has given me the best idea ever to aid in getting something published. She has introduced me to NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. What is this, you ask? Well apparently thousands of people every year write for one month (November) one 50,000 word novel. I think this is brilliant and I plan on participating. I do not think it should be too hard to write 50,000 words in one month. Question: How many words does this blog have so far? Answer: Tons. I am a short story longer writer extraordinaire! This will be ridiculously easy. And don't worry, on November 30 I will send all of you my 50,000 word novel of wonderfulness and then quiz you on content to make sure you really read it. Who's excited.
Who is going to participate in NaNoWriMo with me? I will even host a weekend in November where we can all get together and write, at my apartment, snacks and coffee provided. Let me know by Halloween.
One of my new favorite commenters, S, has given me the best idea ever to aid in getting something published. She has introduced me to NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. What is this, you ask? Well apparently thousands of people every year write for one month (November) one 50,000 word novel. I think this is brilliant and I plan on participating. I do not think it should be too hard to write 50,000 words in one month. Question: How many words does this blog have so far? Answer: Tons. I am a short story longer writer extraordinaire! This will be ridiculously easy. And don't worry, on November 30 I will send all of you my 50,000 word novel of wonderfulness and then quiz you on content to make sure you really read it. Who's excited.
Who is going to participate in NaNoWriMo with me? I will even host a weekend in November where we can all get together and write, at my apartment, snacks and coffee provided. Let me know by Halloween.
Rice Pudding and Thanks to all
I made rice pudding last night and then Lauren told me I need to write a fake news story about it. I told her I'd have it to her by the end of the day. I did better than that- I had it to her by the end of noon. If I worked for a fake newspaper, my fake news editor would probably give me fake employee of the month because I am so good at meeting deadlines.
You can read my fake news story in her blog (cupcakes for spite and tales of my baking glory). Just as an FYI, this fake news article is meant only for people who have a sense of humor. Click at your own risk.
Also, many thanks to everyone for their advice and compliments! As you can see I have added a new section on the left hand side of the page that makes searching for my many blog plotlines that much easier. It's called "Looking for something?"
Now you can skip the soap opera that are my posts and quickly find what you are looking for. Hope you like the new feature!
You can read my fake news story in her blog (cupcakes for spite and tales of my baking glory). Just as an FYI, this fake news article is meant only for people who have a sense of humor. Click at your own risk.
Also, many thanks to everyone for their advice and compliments! As you can see I have added a new section on the left hand side of the page that makes searching for my many blog plotlines that much easier. It's called "Looking for something?"
Now you can skip the soap opera that are my posts and quickly find what you are looking for. Hope you like the new feature!
Sunday 29 July 2007
I do not like riding the bus (part 2)
Since a fellow who calls himself Mr. History has decided to express his opinion that there is, in fact, a mode of transportation less cool than the bus, I have been forced to post a rebuttal to his argument.
Mr. History claims that riding the bus is cooler than roller skating. His arguments are (if you missed his comment on the post):
1. Roller skating has become obsolete since the introduction of roller blades.
2. Roller skates look funny because of the toe-stop (in his comment it was referred to the thing that looked like a gum drop)
3. Buses would be infinitely cooler if they were double deckers or trams.
Here are my responses:
1. Yes, roller skates have become lesser known to the young crowd, but all of us who grew up pre-rollerblades know that roller skates are pretty gosh darn cool. They bring to mind discos and shiny things, both of which I consider not only awesome but most importantly cool. Maybe I am biased because my roommate is in Roller derby which requires the use of quad-wheeled skates, and I really think that if they switched over to roller blades the sport would become stupid.
2. The gum drop design of the toe-stop is adorable. If anything, it should make you feel like you are in Candy Land. I am pretty sure no one is uncool in Candy Land.
3. True, if all buses were double deckers then they would be cool. Same goes for trams. However, they are not. The bus I am referring to is the MBTA #80 which sucks.
In conclusion, if I roller skated to work I would be cooler than the people on the bus. Also, please refer to the video clip on the right hand side page to see the #1 reason why roller skates are cooler than the bus. If they are good enough for Miss Piggy to successfully chase down her mugger, they are good enough for me.
I'd say, if anyone wants to make an argument that any mode of transportation is less cool than the bus, probably the only one that would fly is the Mini-van. And even that's a tricky one, because although most mini-vans (aka Mom-vans) are uncool, there is the possibility of a cool mini van (consider the 1970s for examples).
Mr. History claims that riding the bus is cooler than roller skating. His arguments are (if you missed his comment on the post):
1. Roller skating has become obsolete since the introduction of roller blades.
2. Roller skates look funny because of the toe-stop (in his comment it was referred to the thing that looked like a gum drop)
3. Buses would be infinitely cooler if they were double deckers or trams.
Here are my responses:
1. Yes, roller skates have become lesser known to the young crowd, but all of us who grew up pre-rollerblades know that roller skates are pretty gosh darn cool. They bring to mind discos and shiny things, both of which I consider not only awesome but most importantly cool. Maybe I am biased because my roommate is in Roller derby which requires the use of quad-wheeled skates, and I really think that if they switched over to roller blades the sport would become stupid.
2. The gum drop design of the toe-stop is adorable. If anything, it should make you feel like you are in Candy Land. I am pretty sure no one is uncool in Candy Land.
3. True, if all buses were double deckers then they would be cool. Same goes for trams. However, they are not. The bus I am referring to is the MBTA #80 which sucks.
In conclusion, if I roller skated to work I would be cooler than the people on the bus. Also, please refer to the video clip on the right hand side page to see the #1 reason why roller skates are cooler than the bus. If they are good enough for Miss Piggy to successfully chase down her mugger, they are good enough for me.
I'd say, if anyone wants to make an argument that any mode of transportation is less cool than the bus, probably the only one that would fly is the Mini-van. And even that's a tricky one, because although most mini-vans (aka Mom-vans) are uncool, there is the possibility of a cool mini van (consider the 1970s for examples).
Saturday 28 July 2007
The Apartment Gardener (Day 1)
One of my many brilliant book ideas was to write a handbook on how to be an apartment gardener. I mean, there are tons and tons of books out there on how to plant actual gardens for people who have acres of land or even a small patch of dirt outside their front stoop. Us city dwellers who don't have a yard or even a half a yard, we are limited to small pots that can be placed on window sills. I am lucky enough to be blessed with a front porch (really, the roof with a railing) so I might be able to expand and get really big plant pots (I am already wondering if I might be able to grow a pumpkin out there in time for Halloween), but most don't have even that option. No one tells you how to grow plants in pots successfully. Even the directions on the seed packets are always hinting at the fact that one day you will have to take your potted plants and transfer them into the ground. Thus, the idea for the apartment gardener book was formed. Albeit, without the skill or knowledge to actually write it.
So, I set out on the mission to become an apartment gardener. I am going to grow a selection of plants, and let you know how it goes. I will try to figure out which plants thrive in pots, which do not, and which require the least amount of effort to grow. Since I am the worst gardener I ever met, personally, this will be a huge challenge; I am not confident any of the plants I have decided to plant will actually grow. We shall call this Attempt One.
Today I went out and bought some yellow bean seeds, as well as two varieties of basil. I could have just kept Attempt One at only beans, but I feel as though beans are a little on the elementary side, in the sense that it is the plant you grow in elementary school- you know, in those white paper cups with your name on them so you can keep track of how fast they grow and make a bar graph of the progress. It's how teachers incorporate gardening into math. Growing beans and being proud of being able to grow a bean is kind of like blowing the seeds of a dandelion on the ground and then taking credit for the weeds that spring up between the sidewalk cracks. Thus, I got the basil. Mainly, because I like basil but also because I think it is hardy enough that I won't kill it too easily, but also because it feels like a half set up from beans.
Here is a photo of my apartment garden (in the tiki room):
I will keep you updated on the status of how these plants grow (since watching plants grow is so much fun), and keep you posted if I add any more plants to my repertoire, or if I kill any off. If you, dear reader, have any advice on easy plants for an apartment dweller to grow without a yard, please let me know.
So, I set out on the mission to become an apartment gardener. I am going to grow a selection of plants, and let you know how it goes. I will try to figure out which plants thrive in pots, which do not, and which require the least amount of effort to grow. Since I am the worst gardener I ever met, personally, this will be a huge challenge; I am not confident any of the plants I have decided to plant will actually grow. We shall call this Attempt One.
Today I went out and bought some yellow bean seeds, as well as two varieties of basil. I could have just kept Attempt One at only beans, but I feel as though beans are a little on the elementary side, in the sense that it is the plant you grow in elementary school- you know, in those white paper cups with your name on them so you can keep track of how fast they grow and make a bar graph of the progress. It's how teachers incorporate gardening into math. Growing beans and being proud of being able to grow a bean is kind of like blowing the seeds of a dandelion on the ground and then taking credit for the weeds that spring up between the sidewalk cracks. Thus, I got the basil. Mainly, because I like basil but also because I think it is hardy enough that I won't kill it too easily, but also because it feels like a half set up from beans.
Here is a photo of my apartment garden (in the tiki room):
I will keep you updated on the status of how these plants grow (since watching plants grow is so much fun), and keep you posted if I add any more plants to my repertoire, or if I kill any off. If you, dear reader, have any advice on easy plants for an apartment dweller to grow without a yard, please let me know.
Blogs of Note
As a relative newcomer to the world of blogging (aside from my brief stint as a livejournalist, that is), I stumble upon intriguing elements of this blogging site each time I come in to add a post. One such thing is this list called "Blogs of Note." I am thinking this is some sort of award that is given out daily to interesting blogs. Clearly, I want to be on this list. I tried to figure out if there were some guidelines on how to become a blog of note. There were none to be found. Since blogger doesn't want to tell me how I can make my blog get on that list by tricky manipulation of the system, I decided I would check out the blogs of note and try and find the common bond. Were they all really interesting? Do they have a lot of readers? What makes these particular blogs so noteworthy?
Some of these blogs were really good. To be honest, though, some were really not good. One such not good blog seemed to be geared towards the elderly. You know, people who are interested in reading about really really old music and westerns. I could be way off base here, but I am pretty sure people of that age are not going onto blogspot and searching for blogs about their salad days. My grandmother is probably the most web savvy person of that generation that I know, and she uses it mainly to write emails and play scrabble. I don't foresee her stumbling upon this blogging website and then saying to herself, "Hmm, let me see if I can find someone who writes about music I listened to when I was 10." However, I must be extremely incorrect, because that blog was a blog of note, and my witty and charming blog about the coolest person ever (me) is not.
Anyway, now it is one of my goals to make my blog a blog of note. I think I narrowed down two ways to get this done. One: lots of readers or two: advertisements. Since I don't want ads on my blog right now (although, I feel like people- and by people I mean advertisers and sketchy internet pop-ups- keep mentioning that ads in my blog could make me money. If this is true I want to know about it), I am going to have to try to get lots of readers. So I guess, spread the word about my blog. Tell people to leave comments. If you know other bloggers, have them read this too. I think if you link other people's blogs in your blog then that makes people like you enough to make you a blog of note. Not sure, though. It could just be a away for people to feel connected out here in the world wide web.
So, let's see if we can make this happen. I will do my part--I will try to write some more fake news articles (those seem to be a hit) and maybe post more about my list (I think I am going to start planting things soon, that should make for interesting reading indeed). I can't guarentee every future post won't be boring. But, I can guarentee that each post will be long and almost definitely pointless.
Today's word use count
Word: Blog. Also, blogger, blogging, blogspot.
Total number of times blog, blogger, blogging, or blogspot was used in this blog: 34
(Note: the word count could be totally off. It was done by counting on fingers and toes, and we all know I only have 20 of those. So any number higher than 20 ends up being a mere guess.)
(Also note: don't you like how I put "Today's word use count" as though I pick a word for every post and count it? Truth is, I have never done a word count before. I am tricky like that.)
Some of these blogs were really good. To be honest, though, some were really not good. One such not good blog seemed to be geared towards the elderly. You know, people who are interested in reading about really really old music and westerns. I could be way off base here, but I am pretty sure people of that age are not going onto blogspot and searching for blogs about their salad days. My grandmother is probably the most web savvy person of that generation that I know, and she uses it mainly to write emails and play scrabble. I don't foresee her stumbling upon this blogging website and then saying to herself, "Hmm, let me see if I can find someone who writes about music I listened to when I was 10." However, I must be extremely incorrect, because that blog was a blog of note, and my witty and charming blog about the coolest person ever (me) is not.
Anyway, now it is one of my goals to make my blog a blog of note. I think I narrowed down two ways to get this done. One: lots of readers or two: advertisements. Since I don't want ads on my blog right now (although, I feel like people- and by people I mean advertisers and sketchy internet pop-ups- keep mentioning that ads in my blog could make me money. If this is true I want to know about it), I am going to have to try to get lots of readers. So I guess, spread the word about my blog. Tell people to leave comments. If you know other bloggers, have them read this too. I think if you link other people's blogs in your blog then that makes people like you enough to make you a blog of note. Not sure, though. It could just be a away for people to feel connected out here in the world wide web.
So, let's see if we can make this happen. I will do my part--I will try to write some more fake news articles (those seem to be a hit) and maybe post more about my list (I think I am going to start planting things soon, that should make for interesting reading indeed). I can't guarentee every future post won't be boring. But, I can guarentee that each post will be long and almost definitely pointless.
Today's word use count
Word: Blog. Also, blogger, blogging, blogspot.
Total number of times blog, blogger, blogging, or blogspot was used in this blog: 34
(Note: the word count could be totally off. It was done by counting on fingers and toes, and we all know I only have 20 of those. So any number higher than 20 ends up being a mere guess.)
(Also note: don't you like how I put "Today's word use count" as though I pick a word for every post and count it? Truth is, I have never done a word count before. I am tricky like that.)
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