On Diane's blog, I saw this link.
Basically, you can live on the Great Barrier Reef for 6 months, get paid more than I make in a year, and you are living on the Great Barrier Reef.
I am going to apply, because I have recently discovered I HATE WINTER.
It has been so cold I just can't stand it. I will even get over my fear of snorkeling/ scuba diving for this opportunity. So. I need help. Who wants to take a video of me pleading my case? I am going to research the Great Barrier Reef and I think it will be best if we video me out in Boston shivering in my one million layers saying "Please, pick me to live on your beautiful island, otherwise I will suffer here. We only get one month of summer every year." I just realized they will probably pick someone from Alaska or Siberia.
My only concern is flying out there for the interview process. But, if it came to that, I feel like I'd have to go, you know?
Does anyone else think it is silly that a text box (such as this one) that can only have 500 characters max would let you enter more than 500 characters and then when you go to save your very insightful and interesting and not at all stupid description it gives you that warning that you exceeded the limit? Why doesn't it just stop you from entering the 501st character? These are the kind of things a short story long teller worries about.
Friday, 16 January 2009
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Weirdo 7: I'm so vain, I think this post is about me
Oh, wait. It is.
I'm a blog junkie. I now have 3 blogs--- two that are all me, and one I am contributing to. Why? It's not just because I like to write. I was never a journal keeper growing up. Well, I was a journal keeper because I had many, but you'd find that most of them were only half full. I just love journals because they were usually pretty and they held secrets. But, as I'd try to write in them I felt my secrets weren't worthy of containment.
Thus, the blog was born. First, Livejournal, which I used to write into the wee hours while living at home. Now, blogspot. There is something about sharing your thoughts with the anonymous world that is thrilling. The place where you can dangle prepositions out in the open. It's fun. Fun is fun. You can write gibberish in here and no one would care. No one has to read it. But the idea that someone could read it and think that your thoughts matter how silly are something worth reading or worth laughing at, is what I like. Sure, I should be building up a portfolio of clips so I could one day live my dream as a freelance writer and art maker (there are more details to that dream that I am holding back revealing... for now). But for some reason this hits the spot for now. That's all.
And that is the end of my weird facts, however weird or unweird they may be.
I'm a blog junkie. I now have 3 blogs--- two that are all me, and one I am contributing to. Why? It's not just because I like to write. I was never a journal keeper growing up. Well, I was a journal keeper because I had many, but you'd find that most of them were only half full. I just love journals because they were usually pretty and they held secrets. But, as I'd try to write in them I felt my secrets weren't worthy of containment.
Thus, the blog was born. First, Livejournal, which I used to write into the wee hours while living at home. Now, blogspot. There is something about sharing your thoughts with the anonymous world that is thrilling. The place where you can dangle prepositions out in the open. It's fun. Fun is fun. You can write gibberish in here and no one would care. No one has to read it. But the idea that someone could read it and think that your thoughts matter how silly are something worth reading or worth laughing at, is what I like. Sure, I should be building up a portfolio of clips so I could one day live my dream as a freelance writer and art maker (there are more details to that dream that I am holding back revealing... for now). But for some reason this hits the spot for now. That's all.
And that is the end of my weird facts, however weird or unweird they may be.
Saturday, 10 January 2009
Number 6: I make lists/ Don't complete
I love making lists. I just recently picked up my new weekly planner for the year, and I purposely picked the red moleskine that has is a datebook and a journal... meaning, after every week there is a blank page for thoughts, ideas, and lists.
Everyday when I get into work I make a list. Halfway through the day, I make a second list. During meetings in between doodling and listening, I make another list of all the things I should be doing instead of sitting in a pointless meeting. I have a notepad that is devoted to listmaking and divided into sections like Tasks, Correspondence, Errands. I have a second notepad for list making that includes a section for Time Wasters and has an image of Dwight Shrute in the upper left corner.
Before I leave for the day, I consult all my lists and make a new list of all the things I didn't do but should do tomorrow. Then I make a shopping list on a post-it and attach it to my wallet. For the last 3 days this shopping list has said "Toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo." Fortunately for me, I have a stock pile of travel gear, which includes mini tubes of toothpaste, mini bottles of shampoo, and even mini packs of toilet paper a friend gave me before I went to Costa Rica, because even though my "wallet list" is there stating exactly what I need, I haven't stopped at the store on the way from work, except for the day I thought I needed Worcestershire's sauce but then didn't.
My list on the side bar has several incomplete items, and that has been existent for a year. My to-do lists at work contain projects that eventually become obsolete, so I convert these projects into "ideas" and write them on J-shaped post its that I attach to my computer only to watch them fall off 4 hours later and collect in a pile in the spot between my keyboard and my monitor, to be sorted through weeks later and thrown in the trash, likely to be resurrected later on a future to-do list. It's a vicious cycle.
Here's the weird part: Most people who are list makers are list makers because they like the satisfaction of a crossing items off the list and the feeling of productivity that comes with throwing out a piece of paper riddled with words and check marks. Me, I like lists because I just like finding order in a chaotic world, for the findings sake alone. It gives me such satisfaction in making a list, making a plan, that I don't actually need to complete it to feel good about myself.
Truth is, I am never going to become the kind of grown up that follows a strict pattern and routine like I mentioned in a previous post. And it isn't because I don't know how or don't know what needs to get done, it's because just knowing is enough for me. I don't need to actually do the things on there. Sure, there are the rare occasions when I have a list and everything on it is crossed off at the end of the day and that's when I squeal in excitement and show everyone proof of my completed tasks. But, the rarity of those days is what makes them special, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Everyday when I get into work I make a list. Halfway through the day, I make a second list. During meetings in between doodling and listening, I make another list of all the things I should be doing instead of sitting in a pointless meeting. I have a notepad that is devoted to listmaking and divided into sections like Tasks, Correspondence, Errands. I have a second notepad for list making that includes a section for Time Wasters and has an image of Dwight Shrute in the upper left corner.
Before I leave for the day, I consult all my lists and make a new list of all the things I didn't do but should do tomorrow. Then I make a shopping list on a post-it and attach it to my wallet. For the last 3 days this shopping list has said "Toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo." Fortunately for me, I have a stock pile of travel gear, which includes mini tubes of toothpaste, mini bottles of shampoo, and even mini packs of toilet paper a friend gave me before I went to Costa Rica, because even though my "wallet list" is there stating exactly what I need, I haven't stopped at the store on the way from work, except for the day I thought I needed Worcestershire's sauce but then didn't.
My list on the side bar has several incomplete items, and that has been existent for a year. My to-do lists at work contain projects that eventually become obsolete, so I convert these projects into "ideas" and write them on J-shaped post its that I attach to my computer only to watch them fall off 4 hours later and collect in a pile in the spot between my keyboard and my monitor, to be sorted through weeks later and thrown in the trash, likely to be resurrected later on a future to-do list. It's a vicious cycle.
Here's the weird part: Most people who are list makers are list makers because they like the satisfaction of a crossing items off the list and the feeling of productivity that comes with throwing out a piece of paper riddled with words and check marks. Me, I like lists because I just like finding order in a chaotic world, for the findings sake alone. It gives me such satisfaction in making a list, making a plan, that I don't actually need to complete it to feel good about myself.
Truth is, I am never going to become the kind of grown up that follows a strict pattern and routine like I mentioned in a previous post. And it isn't because I don't know how or don't know what needs to get done, it's because just knowing is enough for me. I don't need to actually do the things on there. Sure, there are the rare occasions when I have a list and everything on it is crossed off at the end of the day and that's when I squeal in excitement and show everyone proof of my completed tasks. But, the rarity of those days is what makes them special, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Weirdness #5: The Marriage Problem
I am the kind of person who upon meeting someone immediately imagines myself married to him. Sure, I consider dating first, imagine what that would be like, where we’d go on our first date, what we’d eat for dinner on Wednesdays and the conversations we’d have over breakfast. The details are different for each person, and I weigh the pros and cons of this imaginary relationship that likely will never come to be.
I never knew this was odd, until I compared fantasy notes with my friends and realized that most people do not do this. I’m not sure what fantasies are normal, but it isn’t about marriage, that’s for sure. What’s weird, is I don’t even think I am obsessed with marriage the way some people are (random flashback to my semester abroad when one of my roommates told me about “Senior Panic” at her college when all of the girls in their senior year who don't have boyfriends panic and scramble for the last eligible bachelors because the only reason a woman would go to college would be to find a husband). Sure, I like weddings and all, because they are pretty and involve white dresses and flowers and Japanese lanterns and floating tea lights and rose petals strewn along the aisle, but not to the point where I’d need to think about it all the time. Maybe I am just forward thinking and like to plan ahead to the point where I don’t even need to date people since I’ve got the relationship figured out in my head within 5 minutes of the first introductions.
Anyway, as much as I think about the kind of pancakes my imaginary husband and I’d both prefer (blueberry and chocolate chip), I’ve never considered what this guy would do for a living. It came to my attention that in between playing MASH (Mansion Apartment Shack House)and passing notes in study hall, everyone has imagined the perfect profession for them to marry. And people’s moms have piped in on the subject as well. I have friends whose parents picture them with doctors or teachers, architects or photographers. Apparently everyone has thought about this but me.
And although I’d like to think that it is because I am so open minded I could be happy with a person of any trade, the real truth I haven’t factored employment into the marriage equation is because my secret (not so secret) dream is to marry someone independently wealthy. Then we could travel around, buy the island next to Diane’s, and support charities by throwing galas and donate our time through volunteering and make the world a better place.
But, since that is fairly unlikely, curiosity got the best of me and I asked my mom and sisters who they’d thought I’d be good with, profession wise. The results were mixed. My younger sister couldn’t come up with a profession, but thought I needed someone who liked to travel. My older sister thought I’d be good with some kind of professional, but could also see me with a carpenter. My mom of course had a lot of options-- including engineer, writer, a chef but then I’d become overweight in a “messy kitchen,” and she vetoed people like rockstars, jugglers, and escape artists. A doctor was a definite no, architect was a maybe, a lawyer was questionable.
What did all of this tell me? That although it was interesting to hear what my family had to say, in the end everyone’s two cents added up to a whole lot of nothing. It’s fun to think about who I might end up with, but I have to meet someone first. In the meantime, I will keep dreaming of my knight in shining armor who is going to whisk me away to Italy at which time I will become bilingual and eat lots of pasta. We will get married on Cinque Terre and have a cake with a thick layer of snow white frosting and we will serve pesto foccacia on silver plates to our guests, as the sun sets over the turquoise waters of the rocky coastline.
I never knew this was odd, until I compared fantasy notes with my friends and realized that most people do not do this. I’m not sure what fantasies are normal, but it isn’t about marriage, that’s for sure. What’s weird, is I don’t even think I am obsessed with marriage the way some people are (random flashback to my semester abroad when one of my roommates told me about “Senior Panic” at her college when all of the girls in their senior year who don't have boyfriends panic and scramble for the last eligible bachelors because the only reason a woman would go to college would be to find a husband). Sure, I like weddings and all, because they are pretty and involve white dresses and flowers and Japanese lanterns and floating tea lights and rose petals strewn along the aisle, but not to the point where I’d need to think about it all the time. Maybe I am just forward thinking and like to plan ahead to the point where I don’t even need to date people since I’ve got the relationship figured out in my head within 5 minutes of the first introductions.
Anyway, as much as I think about the kind of pancakes my imaginary husband and I’d both prefer (blueberry and chocolate chip), I’ve never considered what this guy would do for a living. It came to my attention that in between playing MASH (Mansion Apartment Shack House)and passing notes in study hall, everyone has imagined the perfect profession for them to marry. And people’s moms have piped in on the subject as well. I have friends whose parents picture them with doctors or teachers, architects or photographers. Apparently everyone has thought about this but me.
And although I’d like to think that it is because I am so open minded I could be happy with a person of any trade, the real truth I haven’t factored employment into the marriage equation is because my secret (not so secret) dream is to marry someone independently wealthy. Then we could travel around, buy the island next to Diane’s, and support charities by throwing galas and donate our time through volunteering and make the world a better place.
But, since that is fairly unlikely, curiosity got the best of me and I asked my mom and sisters who they’d thought I’d be good with, profession wise. The results were mixed. My younger sister couldn’t come up with a profession, but thought I needed someone who liked to travel. My older sister thought I’d be good with some kind of professional, but could also see me with a carpenter. My mom of course had a lot of options-- including engineer, writer, a chef but then I’d become overweight in a “messy kitchen,” and she vetoed people like rockstars, jugglers, and escape artists. A doctor was a definite no, architect was a maybe, a lawyer was questionable.
What did all of this tell me? That although it was interesting to hear what my family had to say, in the end everyone’s two cents added up to a whole lot of nothing. It’s fun to think about who I might end up with, but I have to meet someone first. In the meantime, I will keep dreaming of my knight in shining armor who is going to whisk me away to Italy at which time I will become bilingual and eat lots of pasta. We will get married on Cinque Terre and have a cake with a thick layer of snow white frosting and we will serve pesto foccacia on silver plates to our guests, as the sun sets over the turquoise waters of the rocky coastline.
Saturday, 3 January 2009
Quirk #4: Disorganized Organization/ New Year's Resolutions
My life can be a bit of a disaster at times. Not that I am a screw up... but that I am not the neatest of people. Part of me doesn't like that about me and wishes I could change, but the other part of me finds it endearing. I've also always heard that geniuses thrive on clutter... so it goes without saying why that makes me feel good.
However, despite the fact I can make a mess in the guest bedroom within five minutes of being in my parents' home, I do prefer a clean, organized, environment. At work we have a clean desk policy. And though sometimes I don't abide by it, but I usually do enjoy taking the last five minutes of my day to go through the papers on my desk and file or recycle as necessary. Yesterday I was at work, bored out of my skull because everyone is on vacation, so I decided to clean out my desk. And you know what I found-- it didn't need to be cleaned! What! I don't think I ever had a desk that didn't require a good 2-day dosage of organization at some point or another. Maybe I am changing.
Anyway, this post is kind of going off on tangents, but here's the point. I have a new resolution for the year. To get it together. I am going to try my damnedest to be a grownup. You heard me. Of course, there will be the list that haunts me on the sidebar (and I will continue to work on those items as well) but I will also try to be more responsible on a regular basis.
You are probably wondering how I am going to achieve this productive responsibility nonsense I am going on about--- and it all comes down to time management. I am probably one of the best people in my office when it comes to time management. Give me thirty projects and deadlines and I promise you I will get them all done on time with limited long hour days. I am not sure why I haven't applied this skill to my personal life yet. I think what it comes down to is I like to be considered spontaneous and fun and always up for adventure, and for some reason I had this idea responsible people don't get to be like that. I think I am wrong on that point. So--- I am going to create a routine. I already know what I should be doing, but I am going to actually do it. It is all the stuff normal people do without thinking about, but people like me need to write it down and tell people about it so they can be held accountable.
Here's my routine I plan on implementing for 2009:
(1) Plan the week's meals ahead so I can be a smart grocery shopper
(2) Pick out clothes and make lunch the night before
(3) Never leave dirty dishes in the sink unless unavoidable
(4) Work out in AM; pursue the creative in the evening
That's all I am going to put on the list, because it is just a general guideline I am going to start following. To motivate me on the food one; I have set up a food blog about cooking for one. Because honestly, I am a good cook, and I need to force myself to cook more. Here's the link (Adventures in A Tiny Kitchen), check it for updates if you are curious on that front.
For the creative pursuits- I've also just set up my Etsy shop. It is going to focus on goods created from things that would be otherwise thrown out (i.e. jeans and khakis that have rips and cannot be donated, dead christmas tree lights, broken dishes, etc). I am not ready to post that website here yet, but I will as soon as I have some things made.
Today's project is getting my apartment in order for the new year so I can start off with a clean slate. No more cluttered desk, no more unfinished curtains and pillows. Time to be a grownup.
However, despite the fact I can make a mess in the guest bedroom within five minutes of being in my parents' home, I do prefer a clean, organized, environment. At work we have a clean desk policy. And though sometimes I don't abide by it, but I usually do enjoy taking the last five minutes of my day to go through the papers on my desk and file or recycle as necessary. Yesterday I was at work, bored out of my skull because everyone is on vacation, so I decided to clean out my desk. And you know what I found-- it didn't need to be cleaned! What! I don't think I ever had a desk that didn't require a good 2-day dosage of organization at some point or another. Maybe I am changing.
Anyway, this post is kind of going off on tangents, but here's the point. I have a new resolution for the year. To get it together. I am going to try my damnedest to be a grownup. You heard me. Of course, there will be the list that haunts me on the sidebar (and I will continue to work on those items as well) but I will also try to be more responsible on a regular basis.
You are probably wondering how I am going to achieve this productive responsibility nonsense I am going on about--- and it all comes down to time management. I am probably one of the best people in my office when it comes to time management. Give me thirty projects and deadlines and I promise you I will get them all done on time with limited long hour days. I am not sure why I haven't applied this skill to my personal life yet. I think what it comes down to is I like to be considered spontaneous and fun and always up for adventure, and for some reason I had this idea responsible people don't get to be like that. I think I am wrong on that point. So--- I am going to create a routine. I already know what I should be doing, but I am going to actually do it. It is all the stuff normal people do without thinking about, but people like me need to write it down and tell people about it so they can be held accountable.
Here's my routine I plan on implementing for 2009:
(1) Plan the week's meals ahead so I can be a smart grocery shopper
(2) Pick out clothes and make lunch the night before
(3) Never leave dirty dishes in the sink unless unavoidable
(4) Work out in AM; pursue the creative in the evening
That's all I am going to put on the list, because it is just a general guideline I am going to start following. To motivate me on the food one; I have set up a food blog about cooking for one. Because honestly, I am a good cook, and I need to force myself to cook more. Here's the link (Adventures in A Tiny Kitchen), check it for updates if you are curious on that front.
For the creative pursuits- I've also just set up my Etsy shop. It is going to focus on goods created from things that would be otherwise thrown out (i.e. jeans and khakis that have rips and cannot be donated, dead christmas tree lights, broken dishes, etc). I am not ready to post that website here yet, but I will as soon as I have some things made.
Today's project is getting my apartment in order for the new year so I can start off with a clean slate. No more cluttered desk, no more unfinished curtains and pillows. Time to be a grownup.
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