Being Green

moving

2008-12-03T23:35:00.002-07:00

After going blog-free for over a year, I decided to start a new one here. I'm not going to delete Being Green, cause that feels wrong somehow, but I wanted a fresh start somewhere else. See you there.

Have You Heard This Guy?

2007-07-02T23:22:00.002-06:00

This video gives me chills. It totally warms the heart, and I think you're going to love it. (It's a clip from the show Britain's Got Talent, like our American Idol... I know, maybe a bit lame that something like this would "warm my heart," but there you have it.)

Weird and Too Personal

2007-06-29T09:11:00.001-06:00

Is it weird that part of me would rather work as a waitress than at a fancy-pants job in a government office? I don't know if the office is even going to offer me the job -- probably not (this is the required pessimism to buffer me from failure) -- but if they did, I'm not sure if I want to take it. At least, I'm not sure if I'd want to take it quite yet.

Do you think this is just my fear of joining the ranks of the discontent workforce? I don't know.

Maybe.

In all honesty, maybe I'm just wanting to prolong my days before I enter that world. These random jobs, like being a waitress, do sound pretty fun to me, and I think they'd be something I'd never do if I jumped into a fancy-pants job now. You don't quit your job at a swanky office to start working at Olive Garden. I feel like if it's something I'm going to do, it's something to do now.

But why would I do that? Is that wasting time? Shouldn't I be doing something that will put me on a fast-track to success? What is success anyway? Couldn't I have my LIFE actually consist of the things I do outside of work, sustained by simple jobs, rather than adopting the work=life philosophy? But does that mean I'm not contributing to society the way I'd like? Or what's more, couldn't I do some of these crazy, ridiculous jobs now and start working in the legitimate grown-up labor force in a year (or maybe even less) once my life has settled down a bit?

Maybe I've just become demotivated and have masked laziness in a rant about wanting to have a real life.

This post got too personal. I'm publishing it anyway.

Let the Sun Shine!

2007-06-22T15:57:00.000-06:00

(This is from an article at Wikipedia)

Summer Solstice is here! Yesterday was the longest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. In places that are far enough north, the sun doesn't even set. Isn't that insane? I saw a news anchor on CNN in Alaska where they had sunlight straight through the night. They had all sorts of celebrations and midnight activities--in broad daylight. I love trying to imagine what that would feel like: daylight, all-day-long! I just can't imagine. I don't know how my body or brain would react. I suppose you'd just have to close the curtains and try to sleep, but it'd still be light out. I think the child inside me would start wriggling and jumping around, yelling, "It's bright out! Go play!" And that's when I'd wish that Star were still my roommate, because I know she'd be fighting the the same urge.

I think I've just added a new goal to my list of things to do on this earth before I die. One year when the solstice comes around again, I want to be in a place where the sun doesn't set, and I want to stay up all day long.

I'm Dating a Nerd

2007-06-18T12:19:00.000-06:00

I hadn't really thought about it before, but I recently realized that Bryant's bedroom walls make him look like a total nerd. It's pretty amusing. Here are a few highlights of the things that he has hanging there:

An autographed photo of two Star Trek stars--from the time he met them at a convention. I'm not even sure which two guys they are, but they look like the really famous ones to me... Spock and Shatner? (He might break up with me after discovering that I don't know who they are. Either that or I'll have to pledge to watch the entire series with him. And don't tell anyone, but I actually think I'd enjoy it.)
A photo of the whole Star Trek crew with Bryant's head photoshopped in as one of the cast members--also a relic from the convention.
An authentic, small-scale replica of the Zelda sword and shield--a Christmas gift from his brother. It came with the soundtrack to the new Zelda Wii video game. Honest.

Add to that the multiple shelves filled with books about computer programming, physics, math, etc., and you've got yourself one mighty-fine beau. The other day I told him that the empty space in one corner of his room would be just perfect for a tall plant or some cool decoration. He started fantasizing about the giant computer server that he was going to build there. He really comes by it naturally. He is absolutely my favorite nerd ever.

Insert Giant Frown Here:

2007-06-04T09:42:00.000-06:00

My car got broken into last week. It's so shocking when this kind of thing happens. It's weird that I went through the whole morning thinking that life was still normal, while outside my car sat in the sun emptied of all my possessions. (Sorry... excuse the melodrama. I'm obviously still recovering.)

I was just getting into my car to go to swim some laps at the pool. I tossed my swim bag into the back and sat myself down in the driver's seat. I slowly realized something was weird in my car. Why did the door already feel unlocked when I turned my key to open it? Why are my papers all over the floorboard? Isn't that my crap from the glove compartment on the seat? And OH MY GOSH! MY STEREO IS GONE! Then suddenly the realization came... I said the words "someone broke into my car" outloud before I actually understood what they meant. It wasn't until that night, laying in my bed, when the entire feeling finally saturated me: violation, betrayal, vulnerability, anger, fear. It sucked.

I am so unbelievably grateful that whoever did this didn't get away with my car. They gave it a heck of a try:

Thankfully, though, all they did was jack up my ignition pretty bad with a screwdriver. The moron even left the screwdriver in my car. What kind of thief does that? I guess I don't really know why that makes the person a moron, except for the fact that it seems stupid... even though the cop acted like the screwdriver wasn't a very helpful piece of evidence. Anyway, I'm just glad they couldn't figure out how to get the car to start. The unsuccessful hotwiring definitely was the tender little mercy in the middle of all this.

So here's my advice for the week: don't leave your windows cracked, especially if you drive a Honda Civic! The thief probably thought, "What a moron! What kind of car owner leaves her car windows cracked?" Heh. Well, I don't care how hot it is outside or how musty my car is, those windows are forever staying up when I park the car!

A Quest of My Own

2007-05-30T12:25:00.000-06:00

We are all aware that Bryant has begun his noble quest to find the supreme Greek burger place. However, you probably were not aware that I am currently embarking on a little quest of my own. Though somewhat less noble and certainly more selfish, it's still a pretty good quest: to find myself a job that will bring fulfillment and happiness... or at least that won't cause me to stick a fork in my eye.

What makes this quest such a challenge is that I have yet to decide what I actually want in a job. Tricky, huh? Well, in the process of scavenging the help-wanted websites, I found an article entitled "How to Find a Job You'll Love." Perfect! That's exactly what I need to know! While the article didn't make any life-altering decisions for me (bummer), it did talk about an interesting study conducted by famous economist Alan Krueger and psychologist/Nobel laureate Daniel Kahneman. Their study examined whether or not people with high-paying jobs are happier than their less wealthy peers. ...And here comes the point of my blog post today. {dun-dun-DAH!} I wanted to share the following insightful conclusions from their study:

The belief that high income is associated with good mood is widespread but mostly illusory. People with above-average income are relatively satisfied with their lives but are barely happier than others in moment-to-moment experience, tend to be more tense, and do not spend more time in particularly enjoyable activities. Moreover, the effect of income on life satisfaction seems to be transient.

Cool, huh?

So at the very least, after reading this article about how to find a good job, my quest for the Ultimate job has broadened to include low-paying work as well. It seems my job search is expanding, not narrowing, as I venture on. (But I actually wasn't picky about pay in the first place. Honest.)

Oh well. Onward and upward we go!

Thank You, E. M. Forster.

2007-05-22T13:07:00.001-06:00

One of my favorite reads in high school was E. M. Forster's A Room with a View. After my first time reading the book, I was so excited about it and easily proclaimed it as my favorite. But I realized about a week ago that as time has passed, I somehow forgot everything about it, minus the fact that I apparently love it. I knew there was a girl who went to Italy with some woman, and there was some business about a guy and his dad... and that's pretty much as far as I could recall. I started reading it again, because after all, a person should know what one of her favorite books is about. I just finished it this morning. It's definitely still deserves a spot among the list of my favorites. It's incredibly beautiful, even if it is a little sappy.

There are two quotes I kind of wanted to post here, and then I'll be done. Maybe they'll only be significant to me because of the jerky awkwardness of my life right now, but here they are anyway. Just in case you'd be interested.

It did not do to think, nor, for the matter of that to feel. She gave up trying to understand herself, and joined the vast armies of the benighted, who follow neither the heart nor the brain, and march to their destiny by catch-words. The armies are full of pleasant and pious folk. But they have yielded to the only enemy that matters--the enemy within. They have sinned against passion and truth, and vain will be their strife after virtue. As the years pass, they are censured. Their pleasantry and their piety show cracks, their wit becomes cynicism, their unselfishness hypocrisy; they feel and produce discomfort wherever they go.

Neat, huh? I like E. M. Forster.

The next quote is the wise, old, withered Mr. Emerson talking to Lucy, the protagonist. He's quoting someone else here:

"Life," wrote a friend of mine, "is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along."

(Funny that my parents always told us kids that we could learn whatever instrument we wanted, except for a string instrument. Their reason was that it was too painful to wait for the student to progress from learning it, and playing badly, to actually knowing it, and playing well. An amusing coincidence in the context of this quote.)

But it's so true that we're all learning as we go along. I remember as a kid being irritated with my mom one day, and arriving at this childhood epiphany: my mom has never before raised me; this is the first time she has lived this day; she is just trying to get through it the best she can, improvising and figuring it out as quickly as life comes at her. I've thought back on that moment of realization many times as I've gotten older.

We make mistakes because we're new at living today. We'll always be new at living today. Hopefully, though, we gain some experience that will help us improve as we endeavor to keep living. At the very least, I hope we keep living.

15 minutes late

2007-05-19T08:03:00.000-06:00

Lesson #1: If it's 2:00 in the morning, it's stupid to try to set an alarm clock (especially if you've already slept for an hour and a half) because you'll probably be so disoriented that you'll set it for the wrong time regardless of how confident you are that you did it right.

This morning, my alarm went off at 6:30, and I felt very confused; wasn't I supposed to be leaving at 6:30? Oh yeah, I was. My brain knew that "6:30" was an important time, so it's the time I set my alarm for when I temporarily woke up at 2am. Great. Late again.

Lesson #2: There's a very thin line that separates us from homelessness. I'm not being jovial now. I'm serious. I think we live day to day quite unaware of this line, yet there it is. I suppose for some it's a bit thicker than for others, but for everyone, it's still only a line.

I got to the homeless shelter 15 minutes late, due to my poor judgment with the alarm clock last night. I was supposed to carpool with some folks in my apartment complex, but because of my tardiness, I drove alone. We were going to be preparing breakfast to serve when the shelter opened in a couple of hours, something I had never done before. I pulled up next to a red brick building and glared at the clock. It was telling me how many minutes I was inadequate. 15. I shifted my gaze to my rear-view mirror and watched the door of the shelter open. One by one, people trickled out and scattered onto the sidewalk to face the day. I'm so naive that I locked myself into my car as I watched. I feel pathetic thinking about it now. I felt such a giant gap between me and these people who were leaving this building.

I have this thing about being late where I'd rather not show up at all than show up 15 minutes late. I'm pretty sure I inherited this particular neurosis from my dad. In any event, I sat there and watched myself become 22 minutes late. I shifted the car into gear and drove away. Guilt surfaced, and so I drove back.

I didn't know where I was supposed to go, or whom I was supposed to be with, but I had to at least try. I paced across the street to that red brick building, trying to look like I knew what I was doing... though I felt completely unsure of myself. Caught up in my own naivety once again, I glanced back at my car to see if anyone was breaking in. No one was. I tried door after door on that side of the shelter. Locked, locked, locked. I walked around the corner to the other side, passing through a few clusters of people who were beginning to congregate outside (which admittedly made me a little nervous), but every door I tugged on wouldn't open. At the foot of the last door sat a beautiful woman in a weathered green sweater. She looked up at me as I pulled on the handle. She didn't say anything. She didn't even look very curious about why I was trying to get into this locked building. I was simply something else that she would look at today. I suddenly felt a little less awkward and and little more like the gap I first sensed between her and me was gone... it was a gap that existed mostly in my mind.

But I couldn't get into the building. Thwarted, and now almost forty minutes late, I walked back across the street and down the sidewalk towards my car. A man was sorting through some things in a shopping cart. As I passed him, he called out to a woman a few paces down the road. "Jackie! Come back! I found a size six here!" She ignored him and pulled a blanket up over her shoulders as she walked away. He shouted her name again, to which she turned around and yelled, "Leave me alone!" As I neared her, I noticed thick socks on her feet. She had no shoes. The man called out her name again and again. "Wait! Size six shoes! Come back!" but she didn't slow. I don't know why she refused his shopping-cart shoes, but at that moment, I felt very aware of the shoes on my feet. I felt very aware of the sound my key made as I unlocked the door. I was standing there between this car I hadn't really earned and this woman who had a blanket but no shoes. Juxtaposition stung. I piled into the car, and through the passenger window I saw her feet shuffle down the sidewalk. As I drove off, the man walked purposefully down the road, a pair of once-white sneakers in hand. He continued to call out to her as he walked.

I don't know if he ever got Jackie to put on those shoes, but I thought about it the rest of the way home. Walking up the stairs to my apartment door and welcome mat felt very different this time.

The line felt thin.

Denial

2007-04-12T10:13:00.000-06:00

The semester is so close to over. After I make it through today, I only have one more day of class, a couple finals, and then I'm done with college. Done. Graduation. No more classes to skip. "Real" life. 9-5 job. Mortgage. Kids. 401-k plans. Writing a will. Picking a place to be buried. Losing my teeth.

I wish I wasn't feeling so stressed right now because I'd like to be reveling in my last few days of school. Instead, I'm hanging on for dear life until the end arrives. It's weird because this semester has been amazingly relaxed in general, just not right now. I wish the last couple weeks would be a little less like torture.

Bryant told me that I like school more than it deserves. He said I should be glad to be done, instead of wishing I were still in school and that it was easy... because it's actually hard.

But in a sense, school is easy--it's the only thing I know how to do. I don't know how to not be in school. I've been a student for 81% of my life, and that's not including preschool. I hardly have a memory of anything before kindergarten. Even if school does stress me out sometimes, I know how it works. I know how to handle the rough spots. I know how to be successful. And as long as I've got my class schedule in hand, I can map out my life for the next two years. Piece of cake.

But if school is done... then what? I don't even know how to map out my life for the next two weeks.

There's no class schedule or course descriptions for life after college.

Nominee for the Most Obnoxious Tradition Award

2007-03-21T12:35:00.000-06:00

Why do women have bridal showers? I'm pretty sure that no one ever enjoys them. It's like the cardinal rule of bridal showers: no one is allowed to like it. Bridal showers bombard their guests with silly games and veggie platters to distract them from the fact that the whole purpose of the event is to flood the bride-to-be with mundane kitchen ware and a giant collection of tacky lingerie. And I always think it's strange when it comes time for everyone to gather around the bride-to-be, nibbling on crackers and watching politely, as she opens one gift after another. It seems like bridal showers are just this strange tradition we are obligated to uphold--an event that every woman endures with patience until it's finally her turn. Then once it IS her turn, she somehow forgets that every shower she's ever been to was miserable... so she decides to have one of her own. The only way I ever want one is if we can find a way to make it legitimately fun. But I don't think that's possible. It'd be breaking the cardinal rule of bridal showers.

...Sorry, maybe I'm too cynical.

Lingering Nightmares

2007-03-18T17:58:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I have nightmares where someone I know well does something awful. Then when I wake up, I find that I'm really upset at them, or afraid of them, or I just can't shake those nasty feelings I had in the dream. I know it's irrational, yet it's like I can't readjust my brain to purge the dream. But it's not fair to be upset at someone for something they didn't actually do. I hate it when that happens.

Ocelot Heels

2007-03-15T10:59:00.000-06:00

Does anyone know why Anthropologie is so incredibly expensive? I do think some of their clothes are awesome, but their prices are ludicrous. What's the deal? Is there cotton so much better than everyone else's cotton? Do they pay their Indonesian workers a eighty-five times more than what everyone else pays their Indonesian workers? Because their clothes are eighty-five times more expensive than other stores.

Example. If you want this top from Anthropolgie, you have to fork out $120:

It is a cute blouse. But why is it over $100? It's made of cotton. That's all. Cotton. With some flowers printed on it. I don't understand.

And check out these wacky shoes. If I had an extra $330, I could buy either pair of these:

It's a shame I don't have an extra $330, because those ones on the right (called "Ocelot Heels") are rockin. What's really wild is that for just $370 -- that's just $40 more, for those of us who buy on the margin -- I could get either of these beauties:

Yikes. 370 bucks and hideous. Maybe if I made tons more money each year than I currently do, I'd be willing to pay those exorbitant prices. I'd also have to become an eccentric old lady first.

So how about this... my new goal is to become a nauseatingly rich, crazy old lady. That way I can shop Anthropologie, sport those Ocelot Heels, and love life. Might be kind of fun. ;)

Snow and Teaching

2007-02-27T10:35:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to try blogging again and just haven't ever gotten around to it. But Provo Platinum looked so sad today with only 1 new post on the whole page. I thought I'd better just write something quick so that Kim's post didn't feel so lonely.

So here's the scary thing that happened to me today. I was driving home from school at around 9:30 this morning and noticed that the little bit of rainy drizzle we were getting had changed over to snow. No big deal. I'm a fan of putting more snow on the ground to keep the ski slopes in good shape. Then a few minutes later I got a text from Bryant up in Salt Lake saying, "it's snowing like crazy up here!" Still not much of a big deal. I don't want the roads to be crappy for him driving home tonight, but a little snow right now isn't something to worry about.

Then at about 10:00am I got another call. This time it's the econ professor that I'm a teaching assistant for. It seems his flight was running a bit late, and he just now landed in Salt Lake (where it's "snowing like crazy" remember). This means he's going to be late for lecture today. Yikes. He wants me to teach the class until he gets there, which he hopes will be only about 30-40 minutes late.

Okay! I acted like it was no big deal when I was talking to Dr. Norman on the phone.... but I was faking it. Remember how I bright red I turn whenever I have to get up in front of a crowd... even if I'm not embarrassed? Remember how I don't want to be a teacher? Remember how talking about economics to large groups makes me nervous? I can handle a few students at time during my weekly TA sessions, but this is the whole class. Plus, we JUST started a new unit, so I'll have to be teaching new stuff, rather than just reviewing what Dr. Norman already taught.

Snowing like crazy in Salt Lake, huh? Oh well. Wish me luck. I'm headed up to campus now. This is going to be a fun growing experience for everyone... me AND the students who have to sit through me. At least now I feel like I really deserve the A-Lot sticker that I use illegally. :)

Thank You, Jon

2006-11-01T19:25:00.000-07:00

Funny man.

THIS IS NOT A PITY COMMENT

2006-08-29T13:22:00.000-06:00

So it's been said that I tend to leave "pity comments" on people's blogs (particularly the blogs of certain boys that I'm dating). I admit, I have on occasion left a comment or two simply for the sake of leaving a comment. And I even concede that I've gone along with the joke and purposely left one or two shameless pity comments just to be funny (or try to be). BUT it has gone too far. Now I'm accused of leaving pity comments any time I say anything. Not only do I feel pressure to write amazing posts, but I also now have the pressure to write amazing comments. Goodness, comments are supposed to be the easy part. Maybe I should just give up.

...please continue to hold...

2006-08-16T11:33:00.000-06:00

I'm on hold. I'm sitting here at my computer, my phone is next to me on speaker, and it's blaring this obnoxious Hold Music. (I really don't like Hold Music.) Every 15 seconds or so, a blandly pleasant man comes on the line and says, "All of our representatives are still busy. Please continue to hold for the next available representative." Well it's been 22 minutes and 13 seconds so far. I've sifted through Provoplat, put in a load of laundry, made my bed, read a bunch of wiki how-to's, and now started writing a post. I'm still on hold. I'm feeling a lot like Pheobe on that episode of Friends where she holds all day long, misses a whole bunch of important things she's supposed to do, and then just ends up getting disconnected.

I'm feeling stranded. Goodness, I've got things to do today! But I've invested so much time into holding that it would be upsetting to just give up now. I really need to talk to one of those representatives! How long do you guys think I should put up with this? There's that stressful tension that prevents me from hanging up... what if I hang up just seconds before some real live person comes on to help me?

Oh man, the message has changed. Now instead of the blandly pleasant man, it's a perky woman who says, "We appreciate your patience, and your call is important to us. One of our representatives will be with you shortly." It's been 31 minutes and 6 seconds. What does "shortly" mean? UGH.

Tomorrow's Forecast: Sunny Skies

2006-07-19T12:23:00.000-06:00

The 32nd G8 summit just finished up on Monday in St. Petersburg, Russia. I found something pretty awesome as I was reading about it.

The day before the summit, three Russian Airforce M-17s flew over the area releasing a bunch of chemicals into the stratosphere. This induced heavy overnight rainfall and cleared the air of excess humidity. Russia did this to ensure sunny, pleasant weather for the summit. Sure enough, St. Petersburg had clear, blue skies and 68-degree weather this weekend. They also kept some planes on standby over the weekend as a contingency plan in case bad weather cropped up again.

Apparently, Russia has used this technology to guarantee nice weather for some national holidays too, according to trusty ol' Wikipedia. Goodness! Isn't that crazy?! And awesome?! I mean, what if you could do that to make sure your rafting trip doesn't get rained out. Or you could ensure clear skies for those pesky Trick-or-Treaters on Halloween. OR if you wanted, you could purposely induce a blizzard on the night that your evil in-laws were supposed to be flying in for Thanksgiving dinner. Hmm.

Too bad it cost 20 million rubbles for the G8 summit. I'm sensing a market that needs to be expanded. Any entrepreneurs out there who feel like entering and dragging down some prices?

what's in my cd player

2006-07-17T20:12:00.000-06:00

Spending two weeks with my parents in Illinois generally translates into me staying up uselessly late in front of the downstairs TV... alone. Just over 2 weeks ago, that's exactly what I was doing one night. Don't ask why, but I got sucked into this obscure PBS Letterman-esque talk show at like 2 in the morning. He was wickedly Republican, but really interesting, and he had the most fabulous singer on at the end of his show. Thank goodness I was up late watching it, because I've found my new musical addiction.

Corinne Bailey Rae. She's like 26 and from England. She just got released in here in the US in June. I love her cd so much. Really, it's constantly playing in my car.

I found a few of her videos on YouTube. I'm not the biggest fan of the videos themselves, but I'm absolutely crazy about her voice and style. It makes me want to start writing music myself... but... I probably won't.

Anyway, here we go:

LIKE A STAR

TROUBLE SLEEPING

PUT YOUR RECORDS ON

Hope you enjoy 'em.

Mustache May

2006-05-19T20:28:00.003-06:00

"Mustache May" is in full swing. The guy's options were: (1) to grow a mustache, or (2) to pour a can of soup down their pants. Bryant was secretly excited to finally have a "legitimate" excuse to grow a mustache, so he ignored the soup option.

He has since gone above and beyond the call of duty. He took "Mustache May" to mean "Mullet and Mustache May." Yikes. Who wears a mullet of his own free will? ...not including Matt Lillywhite, who is allowed to wear a mullet any time he wants.

(In these pics, he still has a goatee... but the handlebars appeared shortly thereafter.)

Hmm.

I was a bit shocked the first time I saw him. Honestly, it took me a while to get over that shock. But I'm okay with it now. It has been character-building for me. I've certainly learned to stop caring about what strangers think. Plus, I've realized how awesomely fearless Be is. Come on... a mustache AND a mullet?! Now that takes guts. I truly do admire that in him.

And I suppose of all the extreme hairdos that Be has experimented with over the years, the mullet is by far the mildest.

Yep. Point taken.

So what's next? The guys have made some plans:

"No Groom June" (you can imagine what that entails)
"Tough-Guy July" (bald head plus facial hair)
"Big Bust August" (they wanted to be equal-opportunity.)

The scary part is that I think they're serious.

Oh goodness, give me strength. Looks like I'm in for some serious "character-building" over the next few months.

Ready or not...

2006-04-16T18:43:00.000-06:00

It's official: I'm ready for this semester to be over.

And that is all I have to say.

Throwing things out of windows

2006-04-06T10:19:00.000-06:00

I get a "word of the day" email from dictionary.com. It's a pretty cool thing, I must say. Sometimes the words are duds, but every now and then you get a real gem. Look at Sunday's word:

defenestrate \dē-fĕn' ĭ-strāt'\, transitive verb:
To throw out of a window.

Defenestrate is derived from Latin de-, "out of" + fenestra,
"window." The noun form is defenestration.

Who knew there was a word for that? Do people really throw things out of windows frequently enough that the action merits its very own verb? And check out today's word:

hobbledehoy \hŏb' əl-dē-hoi'\, noun:
An awkward, gawky young fellow.

Now how great is that? Certainly there are enough awkward, gawky young fellows in the world that they deserve a noun all their own, but I think it's unfortunate that it has to be a word like "hobbledehoy." I'd feel awkward and gawky myself if I actually used that word in front of anyone.

"Oh man, those boys are such hobbeldehoys," Kelly observes as a group of hormonal high school boys clamber awkwardly into the restaurant.
"Uh... Kelly, you're a freak," her concerned friend replies flatly.

Maybe I should come up with my own name for guys like that. In any event, it's a fabulous word... even if it's unusable in public. Let's hear it for awkward, gawky young fellows that give me something to blog about instead of doing homework! Now go defenestrate yourself.

"Shards of Glass" is my middle name

2006-03-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

I am amazing. I somehow managed to break not one, but TWO drinking glasses by the time the afternoon rolled around today.

The most annoying thing about the second incident is that I had just gotten back from the grocery store and was about to pour myself some milk, when my glass somehow slipped from my hand, shattered, and spewed shards of glass everywhere... including into my open gallon of milk. Sad. So even though I just went to the stinkin' grocery store, I still don't have milk.

Two glasses by the afternoon. I'm beginning to worry what's next. Watch out. This girl should be considered extremely dangerous.

Singing Out Loud

2006-03-21T12:39:00.001-07:00

The problem I'm having right now is that I'm doing some homework in the library. Mathy homework, which is my favorite kind of homework... not just because I'm a geek, but also because it's the only kind I can do effectively while listening to music. So of course I've got my headphones on. And let me tell you, I am having the HARDEST time not bursting out in song. I want to sing along so bad! But the library is so quiet, so I can't. Instead, I'm settling for just bobbing my knee and shaking my head with the beat, with the occasional mouthing of the lyrics. People who pass are looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces. Some are kind of smirking, like they know all too well the urge that I'm struggling to fight at the moment (or they think I'm crazy). But goodness. You gotta sing when your spirit says sing.

Speaking of singing like a lunatic... The other day, as I was walking home from school, I passed three different guys with headphones on who where rocking out... and when I say "rocking out," I REALLLY mean it. They were completely uninhibited, singing and gettin' down something fierce as they walked down the sidewalk. These were entirely unconnected events. It really made me happy. Plus they were listening to good music. One guy was jamming to Incubus' "Stellar," another was totally nailing the chorus to the Darkness' "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" (he seriously was... that one was AWESOME to see), and sadly I can't remember what the last guy was singing, but I do remember that I was impressed. I was a little shocked that I got to be the witness to something as exciting as this not just once, but THREE times in a row... my walk home normally is pretty mundane.

Anyway, I just thought I'd share that with you. Back to the grindstone. And back to fighting my urge to rock out.

Run

2006-03-11T14:57:00.000-07:00

I walked into the apartment earlier today and found a pleasant surprise. It seems that Star discovered a new song while I was gone. When I came in, she was listening to it over & over on her computer, and I happily joined in. Now both of us are nursing a healthy obsession. It's a good thing, because I think I was overdue for my next big obsession. I like this song so much. It's called "Run" by Snow Patrol.

To share in the joy, listen up.

Here are the lyrics. They give me goosebumps. I'm such a sucker.

I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go
You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done

And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know we'll make it anywhere
Away from here

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear

Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do

Light up...

Slower slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find an easier way
To get out of our little heads

Have heart my dear
We're bound to be afraid
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for all this mess

Oh the sweetness. I'm a fan. I hope this little addition to your day brightened it a bit. It sure lit up mine.

Cops are sneaky. I don't like it.

2006-03-08T10:08:00.000-07:00

Cops are sneaky. I'm not gonna lie, I'm not really a fan. I know, I know, I should be grateful to them because they're an important part of society, yadayda. Deep down I probably am, but right now I'm just not all that excited about them. Sorry if any of you are aspiring police men or women. I'm sure you're really a good person... just like my 5th grade math teacher.

My awareness of the unpleasantness of cops was heightened this weekend. You see, on Friday I threw some clothes into my little duffel and settled myself down in my car for the long drive to my sister's place in LA (sorry, not your LA, Ronnie). It was a great trip--I can never have too much open-roadage. A road trip always sounds like a good idea to me. But cops certainly dampen the experience.

Speed limit schmeed limit. Why are they so obsessed? Here's where I really noticed the sneaky nature of the police. On Monday I was driving back to P-town, after a long weekend of laughing and lots of late-night movie watching, when I saw on the side of the road a poor, innocent speeder caught red-handed. (So maybe he wasn't THAT innocent... but whatever.) I always empathize with poor souls like that because I myself am a speeder. So anyway, this car had been pulled over by an undercover cop, which stinks even more than just being pulled over. But what stinks even MORE than that is the kind of car this particular cop was driving. A brand new Ford Mustang. Silver. Does that seem wrong to anyone else? When a speeder sees a Ford Mustang on the highway, she should be able to accurately assume that she's in the company of another fellow limit-breaker. After all, what else is a Mustang for? Am I wrong? Who sees a shiny new Mustang and thinks "Oh, I better slow down; that might be a cop undercover"? I can understand thinking that with an Impala or a Lumina or some ol' frumpy thing, but not a 2006 sports car. I tell ya, they're out to get us. It really has come to that. Their objective is this: to ease you into feeling comfortable about breaking the law and then -BAM- slap you with a ticket. Sounds like leading a person carefully down to hell if you ask me. Good grief. Cops are sneaky.

Found Soon

2006-03-06T01:08:00.000-07:00

So... thanks in large part to the amazing Bryant, my blog is up and running. I was a little distraught when, after fixing up my settings and clicking "view blog," I was redirected to a site that said my blog was "Not Found." Yikes. That seemed a little depressingly final to me.
Not Found.
Thank goodness I was chatting with B at the time because his assurances that I would be "found soon" helped me through this trying time. Apparently, you have to actually post something before a blog is really a Blog. That's unfortunate for you... mostly because it means you're getting this nonsensical blabber as my first post simply so that I can look at my webpage and feel like I've created something today. I guess I'm just selfish like that, but it does feel pretty neat to create something. More to come.