Weird Fact #2: The Dollar Bill is Obsolete

There are a lot of reasons I need to rely on quarters these days. Okay, there are two reasons I need to rely on quarters- Buying diet coke in the vending machine at work and laundry.

Every time I go to do either of those things, I get my quarters in order. To do that, I absolutely must check to see what states are on the backs. Then, I choose the 3 plus states I like the least (If the quarter is so old there isn't a state on the back, that automatically trumps even my least favorite state- Texas- and gets used first) to use for my purchase/ load of laundry.

I also double check the states when loaning quarters out. Yup, that's right. If you borrow a quarter from me I will have given you my least favorite state in the slew of quarters hanging out in my change purse.

Weird Fact #1

I have a tendency to obsess over efficiency. This becomes even more extreme when it comes to choosing the best possible route to get to a place, especially when walking.

• I don't like backtracking unless unavoidable.
• I will draw to-scale diagrams if you don't believe that my route is better than yours.
• I won't back down until you have tried my way and agreed with me.

I live in Boston. We may sometimes call them "blocks" but let's be honest, this is no New York City grid pattern. That means, taking the "parallel" road doesn't mean it is the same distance. I can recognize the slight difference in distance and then I take the shorter route. It's pretty simple geometry usually; I've always liked triangles.

Sometimes people try to argue with me; mainly because I am not great with directions so sure, don't trust me. But, I am right. I don't need google maps to determine the fastest route. If I know a route, then I know a route, and I know which way is faster. I tried to explain to a co-worker why walking the back route to the bus stop was better than walking out to the main road first, and she couldn't understand how that could be when technically you were walking away from the main road to take the back road. But, the distance from the entrance to the back road was about one-tenth the distance of the entrance to the main road. Then, when taking the back road, to connect with the main road again, the distance between the back road and the main road is about half the distance of the entrance to the main road. Add to the math that the back road doesn't have any intersections, so no corners to wait on until the lights to change, and you can almost get to the bus in two-thirds the amount of the time as taking the main road. Makes perfect sense in my head.

So basically, I spend half my life thinking about the best possible route from point A to point B. I don't try to think about it, it just happens until I've come up with a solution. I just discovered that walking up the street "parallel" to my street one extra block means not only a shorter distance to my apartment, but also less steep of an incline. Score!

Tag, You're It

Some people have fond memories of playing tag. Sure, I liked it as a kid... I mean it was something to do when you were confined to the blacktop or you didn't want to play kickball at recess. Honestly, I was more of a four square girl- I think being petite helps when playing in tiny spaces. However, it appears I have been tagged, which means I am it... And sorry for the delay, I guess I thought this was freeze tag.

Here are the rules:

(1) Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog. Click here for Diane's blog. I've also added her to my blogs of note list, because she said she will be updating her blog with her 7 random/weird facts and I think we all need to know about those.

2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself. I think I am going to do what Diane is doing and wait to post these in my next posts. Muah ha ha. Also, it is late and I am not feeling creative right now.

3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs. Here are the people I've tagged:
Cupcakes for Spite
Chaos Personified
Through the Circuits of Time
Sure, I know that's not seven, but that's the best I can do, because I am more of a blog stalker; I don't actually know most of the people whose blogs I read. I know it says "random" but I don't care.


4. Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. Doing that shortly.

New Blog!

For those of you who follow my blog-- have no fear, I am not going anywhere. However, a couple of friends and I are all contributing to a blog that is going to focus on ... well, it isn't really going to focus on anything. But, there will be reviews, life issues, event listings, etc. It's going to be good. I promise. And I don't make promises lightly.

So, if you want to check it out-- here's the link:

JUST FOR SCUZ

Please become a follower, it will make us feel oh-so-good about ourselves.

But also note: This is a new blog, so it is still in the very beginning formative stages. It is only going to get better, so stick with it, please.

Deja Vu

NaNoWriMo is almost over and I have barely finished 3,000 words. Sure, I have one more day to get the remaining 47,000 words entered... but will I do it? Probably not.

I am sure you are thinking--- why is she writing this post instead of her novel? Well, I think by now you all know me well enough that I will pretty much do anything to not do what I am supposed to be doing. Right now, I think it is more important to outline my excuses for the pending failure of this year's NaNoWriMo than to actually write my novel. Here they are:

(1) I am incapable of self motivation. For whatever reason, if no one is there to check over my work, I just can't get things done. I know this is a bad quality I probably shouldn't share on things like job interviews, but it's the truth. If someone was forcing me to turn in work every day, I'd get this done. Without that, it's going to be like junior year all over again where I'd write my final draft of the essay and then fudge the rough draft later so my teacher could see "the process."

(2) I am a procrastinator to my detriment. I used to be able to get huge projects done in short periods of time, because the pressure of a deadline would force me to rise to the challenge. In fact, I took great pride in this character trait of mine, because, really, who else but me can pull off the amount of work I have gotten done in such short amounts of time? No one. Or at least, no one I have ever met yet. Those of you who know me in college know what I am talking about. Last minute trips to the library to grab all the oversized Art History books that were left, pages and pages of notes, borrowing my roommates laptop so I could find a quiet spot on campus to type into the wee hours, etc etc etc. This project however, was maybe too big for even me to handle. Maybe not. Only time will tell.

(3) I am not Jewish. It has come to my realization that many successful writers I like are Jewish. There must be a correlation between Jewish people and being able to write productively.

(4) My novel is not about me. With the word novel, you automatically assume fiction, so of course I was writing my novel about something made up. Now, I have to say, I like the theme of my novel, and if it ever came to fruition perhaps Oprah would like it too. But, it's not about me. I can write thousands of words a day (boring or otherwise) about me, but it takes me a while to get into the nitty gritty of other characters' lives. I know, I know, you'd think I'd like the characters I created myself enough to want to write about them, but I don't have a God complex so that's not the case.

(5) I think I have carpal tunnel. I always find that people take pity on you and believe your excuses more if they are medical. Even more so if involves an injury that would be physically debilitating. For some reason saying something like "mentally, I just couldn't write today" doesn't have the same amount of clout as saying "I broke my two hands and therefore couldn't write today because I don't have voice recognition on my computer." Since if you see me you will see I did not in fact break my hands, I feel like carpal tunnel is the way to go in this one.

(6) I'm only capable of writing lists. There, I said it. I am not a story teller, I am a list maker. And sometimes those lists turn into stories because I am not even a very good list maker. How can I make a list into a novel... wait a minute, now there's an idea.

(7) I have ADD. Okay, this one isn't true. But it would prevent me from writing a novel if it were true.

(8) I'm tired and lazy. I just wanted to spend my thanksgiving eating turkey and reading other people's writing. I didn't want to have to write, okay? I also like napping?

(9) Did I mention I ran a road race yesterday? No, this doesn't affect my ability to write, but I did have to train for it (using the word 'train' incredibly loosely) which meant getting up to run, then working, which then resulted in being tired and lazy. (See above excuse for more details on that one).

(10) So I don't have a 10th excuse, but I am putting a 10 next to this sentence anyway. What? Nine excuses aren't good enough for you people? You think I should have been able to finish the impossible task of writing a novel in a month. Thanks. Thanks for your support. I appreciate it.

I'm going to go babysit the munchkin now, and will write my novel later. Maybe next year. Or maybe this year. Who knows. No one. Not even me.

NaNoWriMo, etc

Today is Nov 1 or the first day in the National Novel Writing Month, which, yes, I will be participating in this year and will hopefully get done with more than 2,000 words, because that was just embarrassing.

I'm already off to a great start. I woke up this morning thinking I was going to hit the ground running by attending the Boston NaNoWriMo write in/ kick off at a location that is walking distance from my apartment. Instead, I laid around for a while, checked my email, and then texted Tim "Do you want to skip the write in?" Being a good sport, he replied that that was fine, but for all I know he is there now writing his 2,000plus words today so he can be ahead of me and win.

The problem is that I am a procrastinator. I've never been one to stretch out a project over a long period of time. In fact, I wrote a 30 page semester long research paper start to finish the day before it was due my senior year of college. Sure, that is not 50,000 words, but what I mean is, I need pressure. With 30 days to go, I am just not feeling it.

Instead, I decided to work on my Halloween costume. Yeah, all of you people celebrated Halloween yesterday night, but in my world, real Halloween is today because there are parties today. After much ado I decided my costume was going to be Not A Happy Camper. This means I am going to dress like I am going camping and look unhappy, with the aid of some accessories and props like a marshmallow in my hair and a burnt pant leg.

So, I hop on off to CVS/Whole Foods/White Hen to pick up some supplies. In CVS I grabbed some red lip liner so I can make it look like I got attacked by a bear with some strategically placed claw marks on my arm. In Whole Foods I picked up some marshmallows so I can stick them on my hair (because the absolute WORST thing that can happen while camping is getting marshmallow stuck in your hair). In the White Hen I grabbed a sandwich for lunch. I got back to my apartment and grabbed my mail. My parents sent me a Halloween card with a note that said to buy something spooky and "be safe." Promptly thereafter I fired up my gas stove and started experimenting with burning things.

Can I tell you how easy it is to make perfectly burnt marshmallows on a gas stove? I need 2 for my costume (any more would mean I'd have to rename my costume to "Girl Who Got Marshmallowed" or "The Girl No One Likes on the Camping Trip") and I made two and I was done. Granted, they aren't the perfect specimens of toasted marshmallow goodness that I'd actually want to eat, but they are exactly what you would want in a marshmallow for a costume. An activity I thought would take hours, actually took minutes. Blast.

Of course, this does free up my afternoon a little bit. I could get started on my novel. I could at least write an outline (do writers really make outlines?) or maybe some potential plotlines so I have a starting point. But instead, I will likely paint my nails and eat that sandwich I bought. And then I will probably make some more marshmallows. And then it will be late and I will have to throw my costume together. I've just now decided I don't really want to burn my old jeans even though they have holes in them. I think I might go burn some more marshmallows.

UPDATE: My costume is done and it is lame. I pretty much look like a camper with a couple of marshmallow barrettes and red lip liner streaked on my arm. However, at least I won't be the person who shows up dressed like static cling.

Talky Talk Radio

I do not like talk radio (with the exception of the alt.npr love and radio podcast I follow and listen to on my way to work sometimes... and Car Talk).

I think all of the hate stems from when I was a young and impressionable teenager on the same morning schedule as my mother who used to blast terrible morning radio shows throughout the house. I admit, there was a time when I used to laugh at the phony phone prank calls on my 7 minute drive to work during the summers at 6:52AM, however more than 7 minutes was too much for me and if I had to leave the program mid-joke, I never wondered what the punch line was later. I realize some people like this and I am not judging you by your taste in radio, I just need to state the fact that this particular noise is not music to my ears.

Anyway, I have been having trouble with my alarm clock because I moved one alarm clock into my family room so I would have a clock in there as well as the fact that it doubles as an iPod dock and is quite bright for a bedroom (although I am not the type to mind light in a bedroom while sleeping) and so I moved my other, older, alarm clock into my bedroom for waking up purposes. Turns out the reason I got a new alarm clock was because the old alarm clock tends to be on the fritz. I had forgotten that and overslept and was late to work a couple of times since the switch. Thus, I decided I'd keep my iPod alarm/dock where it was and just start using my phone as my alarm. It is quite handy because although it only lets you hit snooze five times before it shuts off (for a total of 25 minutes of snoozage), you can have a second or even third alarm set to go off again after you know you will have hit the snooze on the previous alarm the max number of times. I have set my phone alarm for three alarms-- two with nice melodic tones and one that is a high pitched beeping sound that alerts me I am in the danger zone and have to get up or just call out sick to work.

The point of the story is, I have been living in this lovely life of three alarms and all is well, when one morning I wake up to MORNING TALK RADIO blasting in my ears. The horror! I jumped out of bed immediately to turn it off and stare at the possessed clock radio. One day it decides to work properly, and all the fiddling I had done previously made it tuned to a radio station that insists on talking to you in the early hours. Horrible. Horrible.

I thought my run ins with that sort of radio genre were over... until today when I discovered that iTunes has a radio feature. How handy, I thought to myself as I perused the many musical offerings including a few from Italy although none that specialized in French Rap. Then, I click on Comedy thinking maybe I could listen to some good stand up. But no.

The first program in the queue was a station entirely devoted to prank phone calls, and in my happy and enthusiastic clicking I had accidentally set it off and even more accidentally turned up the volume. And then my computer froze.

I was forced to listen, cringing and scowling all the while, for a good 5 minutes before I realized I could stop it by turning off my computer (which I did).

While writing this post I am listening to my neighbor have a very personal conversation with what sounds to be her significant other. This makes me think that maybe, just maybe, she can hear my phone alarm go off 11 times in the AM and my 10pm fight with the phoney phone radio station. Maybe this is why no one has said hello to me in the stairwell.