Um, totally can't go to the BMV. Eyes itch. Red and itchy. Red and itchy and runny.
I can't get my driver's license picture taken looking like this! Suck.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Planner
I have a lot to accomplish in the upcoming week, so of course, I planned today to the very last minute and the weekend in large chunks of time. Planning is my coping. It's my way of feeling in control.
For instance, today I knew I had to get up early to take the dogs to daycare*. So while the dogs are tiring themselves out, I'm going to head to the BMV at lunchtime to take care of some lingering address changes (from when I moved in June *cough*) Then I'm going to stay at work late tonight (pooches don't have to be picked up until 7:00pm) and do some studying for my test next week. When I get home, dogs will be exhausted, so I'll probably drop them off and study some more. All planned. Down to the minute.
So of course I woke up sick. Damn you universe! Couldn't just leave me alone for one day, could you? I'm pretty sure I'm having an old friend revisit. Suck. If you want me to be honest, I don't think it ever really left. Sigh.
I'll push through today, but if this continues on the same track as last time, my volunteering/wedding/girls day/more studying scheduled for this weekend is in jeopardy. My boss keeps reminding me that the best laid plans of mice and men... To which I respond with an eloquent, "Shut it."
This would be one of those days that my father would tell me to loosen up, and not to sweat the small stuff. I know, I know. But I also know that I function better when all my ducks are in a row. Which I thought they were. Until sick came into the picture. Now I realize that I only had the illusion of ducks in a row, and that ticks me off.
But at least I know that this evening will be a good evening. I fully expect to see this all evening long.
And an evening with that view can not be a bad evening, my friends.
*Side note: with the economic downturn and a personal Emily money crunch, doggie daycare was one of the first things to go. An unfortunate side effect of this is that I like Casey a whole lot less. She just doesn't know what to do with all of that energy, and the hour long walks at night [when we can squeeze one in with enough light to see - hello daylight savings time] just aren't cutting it for her like they are Blue. I'm thinking of drugging her**
**Okay, not really, but seriously folks, something has to be done. My first-dog, she is a pain.
For instance, today I knew I had to get up early to take the dogs to daycare*. So while the dogs are tiring themselves out, I'm going to head to the BMV at lunchtime to take care of some lingering address changes (from when I moved in June *cough*) Then I'm going to stay at work late tonight (pooches don't have to be picked up until 7:00pm) and do some studying for my test next week. When I get home, dogs will be exhausted, so I'll probably drop them off and study some more. All planned. Down to the minute.
So of course I woke up sick. Damn you universe! Couldn't just leave me alone for one day, could you? I'm pretty sure I'm having an old friend revisit. Suck. If you want me to be honest, I don't think it ever really left. Sigh.
I'll push through today, but if this continues on the same track as last time, my volunteering/wedding/girls day/more studying scheduled for this weekend is in jeopardy. My boss keeps reminding me that the best laid plans of mice and men... To which I respond with an eloquent, "Shut it."
This would be one of those days that my father would tell me to loosen up, and not to sweat the small stuff. I know, I know. But I also know that I function better when all my ducks are in a row. Which I thought they were. Until sick came into the picture. Now I realize that I only had the illusion of ducks in a row, and that ticks me off.
But at least I know that this evening will be a good evening. I fully expect to see this all evening long.
And an evening with that view can not be a bad evening, my friends.*Side note: with the economic downturn and a personal Emily money crunch, doggie daycare was one of the first things to go. An unfortunate side effect of this is that I like Casey a whole lot less. She just doesn't know what to do with all of that energy, and the hour long walks at night [when we can squeeze one in with enough light to see - hello daylight savings time] just aren't cutting it for her like they are Blue. I'm thinking of drugging her**
**Okay, not really, but seriously folks, something has to be done. My first-dog, she is a pain.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Happy Days are Here Again!!
I was fairly certain that Obama would win. Still, it's never good to count your chickens... so it was nice to see the actual confirmation around early this morning.
But when Indiana went blue? Icing on the cake.
Congratulations, America, for making a change when we need it most. Better late than never.
But when Indiana went blue? Icing on the cake.
Congratulations, America, for making a change when we need it most. Better late than never.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
All I Want for Election Day is a Blue Indiana...
Go out and vote, people. If you need to find your polling place, do it here.
Indiana has been a red state for my entire life. It doesn't matter if I vote blue, the most that I have ever been able hope for is that my county turns blue. (Surprisingly, this does happen - which shows that there is intelligent life in Indiana, you just have to work hard to find it.) During the course of the current historic campaign, Indiana was shown as a faint blue at one point. Right now it's a faint red. I'll be staying up tonight to see if this state can actually pull it together and turn blue. For the first time since 1964. In fact, I've allotted my monthly Starbucks money to tomorrow morning because I know I'll be up tonight in breathless anticipation.
It's time for a change, and I hope that my state can sense that sooner, rather than later.
Indiana has been a red state for my entire life. It doesn't matter if I vote blue, the most that I have ever been able hope for is that my county turns blue. (Surprisingly, this does happen - which shows that there is intelligent life in Indiana, you just have to work hard to find it.) During the course of the current historic campaign, Indiana was shown as a faint blue at one point. Right now it's a faint red. I'll be staying up tonight to see if this state can actually pull it together and turn blue. For the first time since 1964. In fact, I've allotted my monthly Starbucks money to tomorrow morning because I know I'll be up tonight in breathless anticipation.
It's time for a change, and I hope that my state can sense that sooner, rather than later.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Halloween on a budget
Okay, so I dressed up for halloween. And, I'm not going to lie...but our Scooby Doo gang outfits? Our HOMEMADE Scooby Doo gang outifts? They rocked the house. As I told my parents, "If you just look at us, I think we did pretty good. At least, you can figure out who we're trying to be. If you compare us to a picture of the ACTUAL Scooby Doo gang, notsomuch." Still, we had fun....and I'm now a firm believer that homemade costumes are far superior to store bought items. Especially for the hilarity component. My brother's wig (and his wife's) were the funniest things ever.Sidenote: I think that both the boy's outfit and mine cost a total of $12.00 - for everything. I heart Goodwill. The only reason the total was $12.00 and not $8.00 is because I bought the socks new. Not wearing hand-me-down socks. Ew.
The boy has been growing out his hair for over a month - just for me, he says. He still hasn't cut it off, though, so I'm not sure I believe him. My hair? I just tucked it into the turtleneck. It's currently longer than it ever has been, and while its days at this length are numbered, I'm not sure I want to go THAT short. My turtleneck (that I'm convinced is the only orange one in Indianapolis) was about two sizes too big. After frantically calling my friends to see if they had clothing that would help me out, I finally just gathered it in the back with a safety pin. After all, the pictures were from the front, and that's all that mattered. Classy.
My brother and his wife hosted the party at their new home. It had really cool decorations, plenty of beverages, beer pong and cornhole. I'm too old for beer pong, but "Shaggy" and "Velma" ruled at cornhole. I'm just sayin'.
Just for fun I'm including a second picture of "Freddy" tossing "Shaggy" a "Scooby Snack." This picture was taken later in the evening, I can't even FIND the "scooby snack" in the picture, and I'm fairly certain that it was not caught, but this should give you an idea of how the party went.Sidenote: At the beginning of the evening, the boy and I were exhausted and dreading our mandatory attendance at this party where we were part of a group costume. We were all, "We should have just dressed up in something else on our own so we could decided whether or not to go..." We ended up having fun, and I'm so glad we went... but at the same time, I was shocked at the number of "couple costumes." Seriously. Most of my brother's friends are married, but I didn't realize that "married" meant "mandatory couples costume." Sheesh. When I realized this, I was immensely relieved that we were part of a group costume. I would have felt much more ridiculous had I gone out on my own in a random costume idea. (But at the same time, I'm sort of bummed that I didn't think of this idea.)
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I'm the dog? I'M THE DOG?!*
My ex friend compared me to George W. Bush this morning.
Harsh.
And then he compared me to Shrek.
I have great [ex] friends**.
You know how sometimes, you feel really really really strongly about something? Something that it seems that no one else understands? You can usually explain those things to your friends, and they will nod along and make sympathetic noises as you explain your emotions and how you plan to act on them, and how you try to balance emotion with reason and move forward with your life.
At least, you can do those things with my friends. If you can't, perhaps you should invest in new friends.
I may or may not have taken advantage of this in endless circular discussions about the boy. And my friends sigh, and they nod, and they listen, and they cross their fingers that this time my path will make it through the woods. (I think it's more so that they don't have to listen to a description of the woods any longer, but it may also be because they want me out in the sun as much as I do... :-) They know I'll figure it out eventually, and really, nothing they say will make a difference. It's not worth the effort.
But what about when I feel really really strongly about something, and instead of nodding and making sympathetic noises, my friends open their mouths and explain that perhaps (perhaps) I may be making an error and throwing off that emotion/reason balance off in favor of too much emotion? What if all of a sudden, they feel that I'm making a big enough mistake that it IS worth the effort to say something just in case it makes a difference?
This isn't about the boy.
What about when I feel super-strongly about something that I can't even think about without tearing up***, and I discuss it with my friends, and every single one of them disagrees? Every. Single. One. What then?
Well, I don't want to be W. I mean, I can see the mistakes he's made plain as day. Can he? Do you think that hindsight really is 20/20? Do you think he wishes he had listened to [intelligent] others [without hidden agendas] just once? Do you think that for a second he realizes (even now) that when you're the only one thinking that you're right, there's a slight possibility that you're actually wrong? I mean, he's repeated mistakes, right? So maybe he doesn't realize. Maybe he doesn't see.
Me? Well, if I'm sure about a course of action, it's not up for discussion. I just do it, smart or dumb. I don't want to hear anyone else's judgment on what I want to do when I'm sure. But I'm reasonably intelligent. My "I'm absolutely sure about this possibly dumb decision" is usually something like, "I'm totally buying these $150.00 fuschia boots that don't really fit that well, but would totally go with this one dress that I own." So when I'm unsure? It's a big thing. It's weighing heavy on my mind. It's something that I don't want to screw up. I poll my friends and family. I talk to them about what they would do in my situation. Some opinions weigh heavier than others. But when everyone else is in agreement, and they all agree that perhaps I'm not choosing the correct course of action? Well, it sends me back to the drawing board to re-think things.
The problem is that since it's a big something, and I'm struggling with the decision, going back to the drawing board isn't easy. It's going back and re-thinking priorities and principles and trying to figure out where I could have made a mistake when drawing up the rules for "what makes up Emily," and trying to figure out what everyone else sees that I'm just missing. Pretty much everything else in my life stops for a while.
But on the other hand, apparently I could be Shrek who [according to the ex-friend] saw something that was very, very important to him that he wanted, and he went after it even though other people didn't think it would work out. Even though it turned ugly for a bit, at the end, it worked out for the best, and everyone was happy.
I'm sure there's another story that had a prettier protagonist that worked out that way...ahem.
Do I want to run the risk of being W just for the possibility of being Shrek? Or do I want to understand why everyone else sees something that I don't and take their good advice?
But there is a bright side, I guess. If I screw this up, it's only myself that I'm placing in an impossible situation. At least I'm not controlling the fate of an entire nation.
*If you don't catch this reference, then we can no longer be friends.
**We're still friends. Promise. I'm being "pretend outraged" that he drew such unflattering comparisons. This is, no doubt, the reaction he was intending to elicit****
***Which really, doesn't mean much since I cry at coffee commercials
****I felt the need to explain that for those who don't "get me" quite yet. Don't worry. You'll get there.
Harsh.
And then he compared me to Shrek.
I have great [ex] friends**.
You know how sometimes, you feel really really really strongly about something? Something that it seems that no one else understands? You can usually explain those things to your friends, and they will nod along and make sympathetic noises as you explain your emotions and how you plan to act on them, and how you try to balance emotion with reason and move forward with your life.
At least, you can do those things with my friends. If you can't, perhaps you should invest in new friends.
I may or may not have taken advantage of this in endless circular discussions about the boy. And my friends sigh, and they nod, and they listen, and they cross their fingers that this time my path will make it through the woods. (I think it's more so that they don't have to listen to a description of the woods any longer, but it may also be because they want me out in the sun as much as I do... :-) They know I'll figure it out eventually, and really, nothing they say will make a difference. It's not worth the effort.
But what about when I feel really really strongly about something, and instead of nodding and making sympathetic noises, my friends open their mouths and explain that perhaps (perhaps) I may be making an error and throwing off that emotion/reason balance off in favor of too much emotion? What if all of a sudden, they feel that I'm making a big enough mistake that it IS worth the effort to say something just in case it makes a difference?
This isn't about the boy.
What about when I feel super-strongly about something that I can't even think about without tearing up***, and I discuss it with my friends, and every single one of them disagrees? Every. Single. One. What then?
Well, I don't want to be W. I mean, I can see the mistakes he's made plain as day. Can he? Do you think that hindsight really is 20/20? Do you think he wishes he had listened to [intelligent] others [without hidden agendas] just once? Do you think that for a second he realizes (even now) that when you're the only one thinking that you're right, there's a slight possibility that you're actually wrong? I mean, he's repeated mistakes, right? So maybe he doesn't realize. Maybe he doesn't see.
Me? Well, if I'm sure about a course of action, it's not up for discussion. I just do it, smart or dumb. I don't want to hear anyone else's judgment on what I want to do when I'm sure. But I'm reasonably intelligent. My "I'm absolutely sure about this possibly dumb decision" is usually something like, "I'm totally buying these $150.00 fuschia boots that don't really fit that well, but would totally go with this one dress that I own." So when I'm unsure? It's a big thing. It's weighing heavy on my mind. It's something that I don't want to screw up. I poll my friends and family. I talk to them about what they would do in my situation. Some opinions weigh heavier than others. But when everyone else is in agreement, and they all agree that perhaps I'm not choosing the correct course of action? Well, it sends me back to the drawing board to re-think things.
The problem is that since it's a big something, and I'm struggling with the decision, going back to the drawing board isn't easy. It's going back and re-thinking priorities and principles and trying to figure out where I could have made a mistake when drawing up the rules for "what makes up Emily," and trying to figure out what everyone else sees that I'm just missing. Pretty much everything else in my life stops for a while.
But on the other hand, apparently I could be Shrek who [according to the ex-friend] saw something that was very, very important to him that he wanted, and he went after it even though other people didn't think it would work out. Even though it turned ugly for a bit, at the end, it worked out for the best, and everyone was happy.
I'm sure there's another story that had a prettier protagonist that worked out that way...ahem.
Do I want to run the risk of being W just for the possibility of being Shrek? Or do I want to understand why everyone else sees something that I don't and take their good advice?
But there is a bright side, I guess. If I screw this up, it's only myself that I'm placing in an impossible situation. At least I'm not controlling the fate of an entire nation.
*If you don't catch this reference, then we can no longer be friends.
**We're still friends. Promise. I'm being "pretend outraged" that he drew such unflattering comparisons. This is, no doubt, the reaction he was intending to elicit****
***Which really, doesn't mean much since I cry at coffee commercials
****I felt the need to explain that for those who don't "get me" quite yet. Don't worry. You'll get there.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Hardwired
I distinctly remember when I learned to apply makeup. I was a freshman in high school, and my colorguard instructor taught me how to apply mascara, blush and eyeliner. For winterguard he taught us how to pluck our eyebrows. Eventually he noticed that we needed to use concealer - and some girls learned how to fix the eyebrows that they had botched. (And yes, he taught us the "drag queen" style for when we were performing, but when he learned of our woefully inadequate makeup-applying skills, he took pity and taught us day-to-day wear also.) Best. Makeup. Tips. Ever.
At first I was excited. I looked like I was in high school, and not a little baby middle-schooler. (I didn't.) Look at me seniors!! (They didn't.) But the more I thought about it, I was sort of perturbed. Why hadn't my mother taught me these vitally important tips? I mean, I'm a girl - she's a girl. She wears makeup. I would have eventually worn makeup. It just seems like something you would teach your daughter, right? A bonding experience, if you will. Why was my mother not teaching me these vitally important womanly skills?
A few weeks ago I went to see a play. A friend of mine has gotten involved in community theatre and I went to see her play a vitally important role in 'Charlotte's Web.' On the way to the theatre, I picked up some flowers for her. The friend that accompanied me mentioned that he never would have thought of the flowers for our friend. I stopped for a second to consider WHY exactly I had the flowers. Well, that's what you do when someone is in a play. You take them flowers like they're in the starring role, whether they are or not. That's just....what you do.
Two weeks ago marked my company's first day in our new office. It was a day of building desks, moving files and throwing away boxes. It was an exciting move with new hardwood floors, more space, crown moldings, etc etc. I brought a bottle of champagne for the end of the day when we were all moved in. Why? Because that's what you do to celebrate a new place, a new beginning, a new set of circumstances. That's just....what you do.
On a random Sunday past, I had planned to have the late afternoon/evening completely free. Homework done, dogs tired, food ordered... just me, my book, and my TV for background noise. I even pulled out the fluffy blanket to snuggle with because I knew that a nap was probable. Then a friend called with a crisis. I put aside the book, shot it one longing glance, and then wrapped up in the comfy blanket and turned off the TV because my friend needed me. That's just....what you do.
I don't know how I just know those things. How I know that when you go to someone's house for a party you take a bottle of wine or a snack and always always ask what you can do to help. How I know that if you see something that immediately makes you think of someone, you buy it for them right then and there - even if there's no occasion. (well, this happens more when I have money, but you get the idea...) How I know that even though we're "all grown up," sometimes making a fuss over a birthday is mandatory. How I know that sometimes embarrassing the heck out of the boy with PDA is the key to a healthy relationship. How I know that gossip is terrible, but if it's something juicy, and I just can't seem to keep it to myself, I had better surround myself with people who can :-) How trust is the most important thing you can have between two people. How drama just isn't worth it, and telling the truth is always the most direct way to resolve any situation. How being yourself is the best way to be - your good friends will always understand.
I fail all the time on when to send cards, and I have friends who are much more up on etiquette than I am. But after reviewing the way I'm hardwired, I don't think I mind so much about the makeup. I'm pretty sure my mom covered all the important stuff - I think she figured that I would figure the rest of the stuff out on my own.
She was right.
Besides, I don't think she knows half the killer makeup techniques I know - even though I don't use half of them. Maybe I should set up a lesson with her. You know...as a thank you.
At first I was excited. I looked like I was in high school, and not a little baby middle-schooler. (I didn't.) Look at me seniors!! (They didn't.) But the more I thought about it, I was sort of perturbed. Why hadn't my mother taught me these vitally important tips? I mean, I'm a girl - she's a girl. She wears makeup. I would have eventually worn makeup. It just seems like something you would teach your daughter, right? A bonding experience, if you will. Why was my mother not teaching me these vitally important womanly skills?
A few weeks ago I went to see a play. A friend of mine has gotten involved in community theatre and I went to see her play a vitally important role in 'Charlotte's Web.' On the way to the theatre, I picked up some flowers for her. The friend that accompanied me mentioned that he never would have thought of the flowers for our friend. I stopped for a second to consider WHY exactly I had the flowers. Well, that's what you do when someone is in a play. You take them flowers like they're in the starring role, whether they are or not. That's just....what you do.
Two weeks ago marked my company's first day in our new office. It was a day of building desks, moving files and throwing away boxes. It was an exciting move with new hardwood floors, more space, crown moldings, etc etc. I brought a bottle of champagne for the end of the day when we were all moved in. Why? Because that's what you do to celebrate a new place, a new beginning, a new set of circumstances. That's just....what you do.
On a random Sunday past, I had planned to have the late afternoon/evening completely free. Homework done, dogs tired, food ordered... just me, my book, and my TV for background noise. I even pulled out the fluffy blanket to snuggle with because I knew that a nap was probable. Then a friend called with a crisis. I put aside the book, shot it one longing glance, and then wrapped up in the comfy blanket and turned off the TV because my friend needed me. That's just....what you do.
I don't know how I just know those things. How I know that when you go to someone's house for a party you take a bottle of wine or a snack and always always ask what you can do to help. How I know that if you see something that immediately makes you think of someone, you buy it for them right then and there - even if there's no occasion. (well, this happens more when I have money, but you get the idea...) How I know that even though we're "all grown up," sometimes making a fuss over a birthday is mandatory. How I know that sometimes embarrassing the heck out of the boy with PDA is the key to a healthy relationship. How I know that gossip is terrible, but if it's something juicy, and I just can't seem to keep it to myself, I had better surround myself with people who can :-) How trust is the most important thing you can have between two people. How drama just isn't worth it, and telling the truth is always the most direct way to resolve any situation. How being yourself is the best way to be - your good friends will always understand.
I fail all the time on when to send cards, and I have friends who are much more up on etiquette than I am. But after reviewing the way I'm hardwired, I don't think I mind so much about the makeup. I'm pretty sure my mom covered all the important stuff - I think she figured that I would figure the rest of the stuff out on my own.
She was right.
Besides, I don't think she knows half the killer makeup techniques I know - even though I don't use half of them. Maybe I should set up a lesson with her. You know...as a thank you.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Young Adult Fiction
So, contrary to popular opinion (including my own) I actually had the stress-free, relaxing weekend I was coveting. Dinner on Friday night was fabulous, and I highly recommend the restaurant. Great atmosphere, great food, and great drinks. On Saturday, I met an old friend for breakfast, volunteered until 3:00, and then went home and did not emerge (or shower) for the rest of the weekend.
The dogs got daycare on Friday and multiple things to chew throughout the weekend. They spent the bulk of their time curled up with me on the couch while I tore through this month's book club book... and the two subsequent books in the series.
Young Adult Fiction - 3. Homework - 0.
Apparently my love for brain candy knows no bounds.
On Sunday evening a friend called to see if I wanted to walk the dogs. I dragged myself off the couch, made myself presentable, and confirmed that I could, in fact, spend time with people and not be mopey. (It helped that there were plenty of deer to chase and that Casey got within three feet of one before it took off and left her in the dust.)
Update on the car to come. For now, I have massive studying to catch up on. I'm not letting myself even purchase book four until after my test on Thursday. Obviously, my commitment to memorizing human bones can not compete with my desire to find out what happens to Bella.
The dogs got daycare on Friday and multiple things to chew throughout the weekend. They spent the bulk of their time curled up with me on the couch while I tore through this month's book club book... and the two subsequent books in the series.
Young Adult Fiction - 3. Homework - 0.
Apparently my love for brain candy knows no bounds.
On Sunday evening a friend called to see if I wanted to walk the dogs. I dragged myself off the couch, made myself presentable, and confirmed that I could, in fact, spend time with people and not be mopey. (It helped that there were plenty of deer to chase and that Casey got within three feet of one before it took off and left her in the dust.)
Update on the car to come. For now, I have massive studying to catch up on. I'm not letting myself even purchase book four until after my test on Thursday. Obviously, my commitment to memorizing human bones can not compete with my desire to find out what happens to Bella.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Stress
Stress is a funny thing. In the days since the car accident, I've been super super stressed out. I don't think I've reached my breaking point yet. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I could definitely see the appeal of just letting go and freaking the hell out. (Side note: It took me a long time to understand that different people can handle different things. I just thought those who broke down were being wimps. I never considered that perhaps they literally could not walk away from the edge.) So in the various moments throughout the week when I eyed the cliff and considered jumping off (while knowing full well that I wouldn't/couldn't) I could definitely see why some people would take that option and never look back. It's just so....freeing.
Of course, then who would make sure things got done? This is usually what brings control-freak Emily back to reality, makes her take a deep breath and remember that as long as she's moving forward, the end will come soon enough. Besides, lying in bed and ignoring all responsibilities with the latest book club book is just as good as jumping off the cliff, and has less negative effects on my life.
Luckily I'm surrounded by great people. The boy came through, if not with flying colors at least with a solid A. I have a great boss who is also fabulous for brainstorming. I have friends who are willing to drive me places and rearrange their schedule to help me out. I have supportive and unbelievably giving parents. And, last but not least, I have a cousin who will take exactly what I'm willing to share with her, read between the lines, and dole out reliably good information time after time. I think she gets the bulk of the credit for talking me away from the cliff, and she did it all from thousands of miles away. She's an amazing woman, and I suggest you all get a cousin just like her.
Between everyone, I was able to have my freak out moment (sorry for any of you who were involved in that period) and then return to reality and breathing.
I am so grateful for the number of phone calls I received with support and just checking in to see if I was okay. I'm sorry if I haven't returned all of them. Let me get to the point where the car accident is an amusing anecdote and I'll get right on that.
Okay, the update is that there is no update. There are questions about the insurance coverage that might not be answered until next week. I don't know what those questions are, but they're making me nervous. I'm currently driving a canary yellow rental that I hate, but (sigh) at least I have a car. (It's so yellow. Did I mention that it's yellow?) My beloved Curvy is currently at the dealership where they're working on an estimate. I also have an insurance adjuster going out there to get a second estimate just in case. I saw her yesterday and was going to take pictures for you guys, but it was just so sad that I couldn't do it. They had her up and taken apart to see the damage, and though she looked fine from the outside after the accident, the underside of her rear end doesn't look so great from underneath. (insert brief sob here)
Things could be worse. I know, and I remember this every day. But the way I explain my stress to my boss is this: Since I don't own a home, my car is my most valuable possession. Some girl just ran right into it, damaged it quite a bit, and I'm not sure when I'll get it back, or IF I'll get it back. I know that in a month, or even a week, this will all be under control. It's just getting from here to there that's a struggle for me.
Physically I'm fine and I know this because my mother badgered me into going to the doctor. (It was either go to the doctor or kill my mom. The first option is less messy, so in the end, I guess I reinforced the badgering behavior by giving in.) Tonight the boy and I are going out to a nice dinner with a $100 gift card that we've been saving for "the right time." He seems to think that a free dinner with no stress seems to be the thing I need right now. I think he's right.
But he's going to make me drive. In the yellow embarrassment. Sigh. I guess it's never NOT time to mess with Emily's psyche. It's okay. The fact that I'm already thinking of retribution shows that I'm already on the road to recovery, right?
Of course, then who would make sure things got done? This is usually what brings control-freak Emily back to reality, makes her take a deep breath and remember that as long as she's moving forward, the end will come soon enough. Besides, lying in bed and ignoring all responsibilities with the latest book club book is just as good as jumping off the cliff, and has less negative effects on my life.
Luckily I'm surrounded by great people. The boy came through, if not with flying colors at least with a solid A. I have a great boss who is also fabulous for brainstorming. I have friends who are willing to drive me places and rearrange their schedule to help me out. I have supportive and unbelievably giving parents. And, last but not least, I have a cousin who will take exactly what I'm willing to share with her, read between the lines, and dole out reliably good information time after time. I think she gets the bulk of the credit for talking me away from the cliff, and she did it all from thousands of miles away. She's an amazing woman, and I suggest you all get a cousin just like her.
Between everyone, I was able to have my freak out moment (sorry for any of you who were involved in that period) and then return to reality and breathing.
I am so grateful for the number of phone calls I received with support and just checking in to see if I was okay. I'm sorry if I haven't returned all of them. Let me get to the point where the car accident is an amusing anecdote and I'll get right on that.
Okay, the update is that there is no update. There are questions about the insurance coverage that might not be answered until next week. I don't know what those questions are, but they're making me nervous. I'm currently driving a canary yellow rental that I hate, but (sigh) at least I have a car. (It's so yellow. Did I mention that it's yellow?) My beloved Curvy is currently at the dealership where they're working on an estimate. I also have an insurance adjuster going out there to get a second estimate just in case. I saw her yesterday and was going to take pictures for you guys, but it was just so sad that I couldn't do it. They had her up and taken apart to see the damage, and though she looked fine from the outside after the accident, the underside of her rear end doesn't look so great from underneath. (insert brief sob here)
Things could be worse. I know, and I remember this every day. But the way I explain my stress to my boss is this: Since I don't own a home, my car is my most valuable possession. Some girl just ran right into it, damaged it quite a bit, and I'm not sure when I'll get it back, or IF I'll get it back. I know that in a month, or even a week, this will all be under control. It's just getting from here to there that's a struggle for me.
Physically I'm fine and I know this because my mother badgered me into going to the doctor. (It was either go to the doctor or kill my mom. The first option is less messy, so in the end, I guess I reinforced the badgering behavior by giving in.) Tonight the boy and I are going out to a nice dinner with a $100 gift card that we've been saving for "the right time." He seems to think that a free dinner with no stress seems to be the thing I need right now. I think he's right.
But he's going to make me drive. In the yellow embarrassment. Sigh. I guess it's never NOT time to mess with Emily's psyche. It's okay. The fact that I'm already thinking of retribution shows that I'm already on the road to recovery, right?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Can't Even Blog Right Now...
...so go read this.
I'm okay. Shaken up and sore today but okay. Curvy did not fare so well, though she absorbed the impact awesomely and I'm going to take this opportunity to suggest you get a Honda for your next vehicle. I honestly exited my car (with curtain side airbags deployed) expecting to see twisted metal, shattered glass, and steam rising from my car.
There was twisted metal, and there was broken glass, but all from the other driver's car. Curvy looks perfect from the outside, with the exception of her rear driver's side tire, which is bent in at an awkward angle.
Everything is fine, no one was hurt, I didn't have my dogs with me, and with the exception of my car (and her car, of course) it's the best possible outcome from this scenario. Still, I'm shaken up, I'm scared, and I'm in the unusual position of not being entirely self sufficient at the moment which is stressing me out the most. Think good thoughts for Curvy and I'll post later with pictures and more info.
I'm okay. Shaken up and sore today but okay. Curvy did not fare so well, though she absorbed the impact awesomely and I'm going to take this opportunity to suggest you get a Honda for your next vehicle. I honestly exited my car (with curtain side airbags deployed) expecting to see twisted metal, shattered glass, and steam rising from my car.
There was twisted metal, and there was broken glass, but all from the other driver's car. Curvy looks perfect from the outside, with the exception of her rear driver's side tire, which is bent in at an awkward angle.
Everything is fine, no one was hurt, I didn't have my dogs with me, and with the exception of my car (and her car, of course) it's the best possible outcome from this scenario. Still, I'm shaken up, I'm scared, and I'm in the unusual position of not being entirely self sufficient at the moment which is stressing me out the most. Think good thoughts for Curvy and I'll post later with pictures and more info.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Numbers
60 - My total height in inches
35 - The number of Pull 'n' Peel Twizzlers that I've eaten so far
6 - Number of days it's taken me to eat the Pull 'n' Peel Twizzlers
501 - Number of times I've wished I didn't have dogs in the last 24 hours
3 - Number of times I've attempted to eat six Saltines in sixty seconds
0 - Number of times I've succeeded
17 - The number on the Colts jersey that I just received (happy belated birthday to me!!) and love love love.
5 - Number of guys who have looked at me strangely because they can't figure out whose Colts jersey I'm wearing
5,682 - Number of times I've cursed about choosing to play Philip Rivers over Ben Roethlisberger in fantasy football last week
223 - My total cholesterol. (Go ahead. Be horrified. I only post that here because I'll post an update in six months when it's MUCH lower. And in my defense, my body manufactures high amounts of good cholesterol (thanks Mom!!) so the ratio? Isn't that bad. But the total does give you some sticker shock...I'll give you that.)
23.5 - Number of hours I logged in studying for my test yesterday
1 - Number of surprising discoveries I've made about myself in the past week
2 - Number of times I've let the dogs sleep in my bed in the last week
2 - Number of times Laney has woken me up at 5:30am out of spite because the dogs are on the bed and she's not
1 - Number of times I've voted for the candidate who eventually became president
2 - The number to which I hope to increase the previous statistic come November
40 - Number of minutes early that I have to leave the house if I want to take the dogs to daycare. (I hope they appreciate the sacrifice...)
750 - Number of square feet in my home
1500 - Number of square feet I would have in my home if I used the basement for anything other than storage and laundry (stupid spiders)
2 - Number of Classic Coca-Cola 20oz bottles I purchased this morning. (Note the omission of the word "diet." I'm trying. Really I am.)
287 - Number of cents for a gallon of gas yesterday. Too bad I filled up two days prior
24.2 - Average miles per gallon of gas that Curvy is currently getting
32.1 - Highest average mpg I've gotten out of Curvy when driving to my parent's house
20 - Average number of emails that I exchange with zlionsfan on any given day.
3 - Number of glasses of sangria I drank last night to celebrate the fact that my test is over
6 - Number of times I hit snooze this morning.
5 - Number of my readers who I'll bet are going to try the Saltines thing in the next week or so. (Just make sure to let me know how that turns out.)
35 - The number of Pull 'n' Peel Twizzlers that I've eaten so far
6 - Number of days it's taken me to eat the Pull 'n' Peel Twizzlers
501 - Number of times I've wished I didn't have dogs in the last 24 hours
3 - Number of times I've attempted to eat six Saltines in sixty seconds
0 - Number of times I've succeeded
17 - The number on the Colts jersey that I just received (happy belated birthday to me!!) and love love love.
5 - Number of guys who have looked at me strangely because they can't figure out whose Colts jersey I'm wearing
5,682 - Number of times I've cursed about choosing to play Philip Rivers over Ben Roethlisberger in fantasy football last week
223 - My total cholesterol. (Go ahead. Be horrified. I only post that here because I'll post an update in six months when it's MUCH lower. And in my defense, my body manufactures high amounts of good cholesterol (thanks Mom!!) so the ratio? Isn't that bad. But the total does give you some sticker shock...I'll give you that.)
23.5 - Number of hours I logged in studying for my test yesterday
1 - Number of surprising discoveries I've made about myself in the past week
2 - Number of times I've let the dogs sleep in my bed in the last week
2 - Number of times Laney has woken me up at 5:30am out of spite because the dogs are on the bed and she's not
1 - Number of times I've voted for the candidate who eventually became president
2 - The number to which I hope to increase the previous statistic come November
40 - Number of minutes early that I have to leave the house if I want to take the dogs to daycare. (I hope they appreciate the sacrifice...)
750 - Number of square feet in my home
1500 - Number of square feet I would have in my home if I used the basement for anything other than storage and laundry (stupid spiders)
2 - Number of Classic Coca-Cola 20oz bottles I purchased this morning. (Note the omission of the word "diet." I'm trying. Really I am.)
287 - Number of cents for a gallon of gas yesterday. Too bad I filled up two days prior
24.2 - Average miles per gallon of gas that Curvy is currently getting
32.1 - Highest average mpg I've gotten out of Curvy when driving to my parent's house
20 - Average number of emails that I exchange with zlionsfan on any given day.
3 - Number of glasses of sangria I drank last night to celebrate the fact that my test is over
6 - Number of times I hit snooze this morning.
5 - Number of my readers who I'll bet are going to try the Saltines thing in the next week or so. (Just make sure to let me know how that turns out.)
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Cholesterol, Schmolesterol
I was just on the phone with a friend marveling at how "adult" I felt. I have blocks of time scheduled to study, I quit studying at responsible times so that I'm not exhausted at work the next day, I squeeze in good walks with the dogs, I have about ten thousand different things going on, but as long as they're written down in my calendar in advance (no, I don't have a crackberry, thanks for asking) I can plan around them, and usually show up as scheduled. (I say usually because sometimes? Naps with warm dogs simply can not be avoided.) Look at me! Completely in control and doing what I should be doing. Isn't this the very definition of an adult?
Well....
Okay, so below the surface, it's not all completely in control. What I've done is make a list of priorities and then focus on what I can. School? Mega important. Dogs? Also Mega important, but unfortunately, trumped by school. Sleep? Recently moved up to Mega important - not trumped by anything anymore.... etc. etc. Some things have gotten scrapped. Reading for pleasure? Gone. Visiting friends who are out of state? Gone. Blogging? Well...I can't give up ALL my guilty pleasures. Diet? Um, not even on the list of items to focus on. Actually, it's nowhere near the list. Not even in the same room. Which brings me to the call from my doctor yesterday telling me that my cholesterol is high*.
I'm sorry, what? Isn't that something that only grown-ups have to worry about?
Oh, right.
So then comes the anger. The doctor can't save me from death's door, but oh thanks so much for diagnosing something ELSE I have to treat.
Then comes the acceptance. Damnit. Must now move "diet" up on the list of importance.
I knew this was a risk. I know where I come from. (Hi Dad! Thanks so much for these genes! Love you!!) But, you know, there are only so many hours in a day. And besides, Emily does like herself some queso dip. Yum.
I'm supposed to meet with the doctor to discuss "treatment of this issue." Blech. So I talked to my new BFF, Google, and we discussed exactly what "treatment options" the doctor would bring up. Not being such a fan of medication, I am resigned to the fact that I must alter my diet and lifestyle to be more healthy. (insert heavy sigh here.) I'm not looking to change everything all at once....I know that sets you up for failure. (Although, this seems to be my MO... Swing all the way over to the side of "healthy" and then chip away at the good habits until there is nothing left but queso and Ben & Jerry's and regular Coke, all while deluding myself of my "healthy" status and ignoring the fact that none of my pants fit.) I'll be adult about this. I can do this... unfortunately even changing little things right now seems daunting.
Easy things: oatmeal for breakfast each morning (sniff... bye bye McMuffin) and at least two meals per week that focus on tuna or salmon. And olive oil? Dude. No problem. I'm Italian. I've just got to rein that in. :-)
Regular exercise.
Right. Regular exercise. Not so easy. Let's see... I can squeeze that in in the mornings before I have to be at work. Um, wait, it's dark outside then. Shoot. Um, I can squeeze it in after work! Right. Three times per week - MWF. I have to walk the dogs, I will combine the two. Done.
Three times per week? Really? That's all? And only walking?
Um, gym membership? Right. When it's included in the soul-sucking tuition payments and the powers that be decide to add two hours to the day, I'll consider it.
Um....
So when I read this post from a favorite blogger, I was tempted. I've never purchased an exercise video before, but, hey, there's a first time for everything, right? And the price is right because Amazon.com is awesome. But still... an exercise video? Like, to do at home? It just seems so... so... cheesy, somehow. I've always been a fan of going somewhere (outside, gym, class) to get my workouts in.
Pros: I can wear whatever I want to work out and not worry about who's seeing me. I can fit this in in the mornings before I shower. I don't have to spend a lot of money. I don't have to tell anyone about this. (well, unless I post it on my blog.)
Cons: Um, I feel like a weiner.
So I bought the video today. When I start I'll let you know. I'm sure it will be a rollercoaster of fun. (stupid cholesterol.) Any other suggestions to get in a decent amount of exercise? I know you all have busy schedules too...
*I knew nothing good would come from going to the doctor. Blargh.
Well....
Okay, so below the surface, it's not all completely in control. What I've done is make a list of priorities and then focus on what I can. School? Mega important. Dogs? Also Mega important, but unfortunately, trumped by school. Sleep? Recently moved up to Mega important - not trumped by anything anymore.... etc. etc. Some things have gotten scrapped. Reading for pleasure? Gone. Visiting friends who are out of state? Gone. Blogging? Well...I can't give up ALL my guilty pleasures. Diet? Um, not even on the list of items to focus on. Actually, it's nowhere near the list. Not even in the same room. Which brings me to the call from my doctor yesterday telling me that my cholesterol is high*.
I'm sorry, what? Isn't that something that only grown-ups have to worry about?
Oh, right.
So then comes the anger. The doctor can't save me from death's door, but oh thanks so much for diagnosing something ELSE I have to treat.
Then comes the acceptance. Damnit. Must now move "diet" up on the list of importance.
I knew this was a risk. I know where I come from. (Hi Dad! Thanks so much for these genes! Love you!!) But, you know, there are only so many hours in a day. And besides, Emily does like herself some queso dip. Yum.
I'm supposed to meet with the doctor to discuss "treatment of this issue." Blech. So I talked to my new BFF, Google, and we discussed exactly what "treatment options" the doctor would bring up. Not being such a fan of medication, I am resigned to the fact that I must alter my diet and lifestyle to be more healthy. (insert heavy sigh here.) I'm not looking to change everything all at once....I know that sets you up for failure. (Although, this seems to be my MO... Swing all the way over to the side of "healthy" and then chip away at the good habits until there is nothing left but queso and Ben & Jerry's and regular Coke, all while deluding myself of my "healthy" status and ignoring the fact that none of my pants fit.) I'll be adult about this. I can do this... unfortunately even changing little things right now seems daunting.
Easy things: oatmeal for breakfast each morning (sniff... bye bye McMuffin) and at least two meals per week that focus on tuna or salmon. And olive oil? Dude. No problem. I'm Italian. I've just got to rein that in. :-)
Regular exercise.
Right. Regular exercise. Not so easy. Let's see... I can squeeze that in in the mornings before I have to be at work. Um, wait, it's dark outside then. Shoot. Um, I can squeeze it in after work! Right. Three times per week - MWF. I have to walk the dogs, I will combine the two. Done.
Three times per week? Really? That's all? And only walking?
Um, gym membership? Right. When it's included in the soul-sucking tuition payments and the powers that be decide to add two hours to the day, I'll consider it.
Um....
So when I read this post from a favorite blogger, I was tempted. I've never purchased an exercise video before, but, hey, there's a first time for everything, right? And the price is right because Amazon.com is awesome. But still... an exercise video? Like, to do at home? It just seems so... so... cheesy, somehow. I've always been a fan of going somewhere (outside, gym, class) to get my workouts in.
Pros: I can wear whatever I want to work out and not worry about who's seeing me. I can fit this in in the mornings before I shower. I don't have to spend a lot of money. I don't have to tell anyone about this. (well, unless I post it on my blog.)
Cons: Um, I feel like a weiner.
So I bought the video today. When I start I'll let you know. I'm sure it will be a rollercoaster of fun. (stupid cholesterol.) Any other suggestions to get in a decent amount of exercise? I know you all have busy schedules too...
*I knew nothing good would come from going to the doctor. Blargh.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Just in case you've missed them...
...and also so I've got one place to go and watch them to make myself smile...
Friday, October 03, 2008
Joy
One day last winter, when Blue was still a newbie and skinny as a rail, the boy and I took Casey and Blue out to the tennis courts at the apartment complex and let them frolic in the fenced in area....in the snow. The sheer joy the showed while they pranced around, threw the snow in the air with their noses, and wrestled around on the ground until all you saw was a blur of blue and brown made me say, "This. This is why I have dogs."
I've been low on the willpower lately. I don't know if it's because all of my energy is focused on worrying about school, because it's getting cooler and my body is trying to enter hibernation mode (read: eat Qdoba 24/7), because tuition payments are sucking out my soul, or because I'm just worrying about school a lot (I'm sorry, did I list that twice? Hmmm.) but lately, if I want to watch football, I watch football. If I want to wear a sweatshirt to work, I wear a sweatshirt to work. (I think my boss is afraid to mention the sweatshirts.) Diet Coke? Psshhh. There is no "diet" in "stressed." If I want to have warm bodies to snuggle with in bed, I let the dogs sleep up with me. If I see juicy tasty dog treats that cost more than the food I'm buying myself, I buy them for the dogs. Apparently, if I am going to be stressed, I am going to use my dogs to bring me joy.
The dogs? They are getting spoiled. I don't think they mind being used.
There's a huge fenced in field near my house. "Fenced in" being the operative words there. It's part of Crown Hill Cemetery, and it contains tall grass, some dense woods, a huge wide open field, and (most importantly) an overabundance of deer. Now, pit bulls aren't like, say, beagles, or huskies. Pit bulls are pretty emotionally attached to their humans... So after a lecture about how I should trust my dogs more, I let them both off their leash and let them roam around the field. They didn't go far... until Blue spotted the deer. Immediately both dogs took off after the bouncing white tails. I would have been more frightened of losing my dogs if the scene hadn't been so hilarious. Neither Blue nor Casey is taller than maybe two feet from the ground, but while Casey is all legs, Blue is mostly muscle. The deer seemed to be as tall, if not taller, than I was...their backs, I mean. Their heads seemed like they would tower over me. Not to mention the antlers on some of them. Sheesh. There is no hunting in the cemetery, so these deer are BIG.
While Blue is moving his little legs as fast as he possibly can, the deer are getting further and further away from him. Still, he's running with a huge grin on his face and his tongue flapping in the wind. The deer disappeared into the woods, and without hesitation, Blue crashed in after them. At this point, even though I had lost sight of my dog, I could hear him crashing through sticks and leaves and in general being about the worst tracker he could be. He's not a graceful dog to begin with, so I could tell he was using the "run through obstacles" option instead of the "avoid obstacles" option.
Meanwhile, one deer had peeled itself from the group and veered away from the woods and back into the meadow. This is the one that Casey decided to pursue. Her legs are longer, and she's pretty agile, so it was awesome to watch her keep up with the deer as it zigged and zagged across the field. She never gained any ground, but she was definitely hanging in there. Eventually her deer went into the woods also, and she followed.
For a while, everything was quiet while I waited. I counted the seconds in my head to keep myself from freaking out. "...fifty-nine....sixty. It's only been a minute. Everything is fine. Sixty-one...sixty-two..."
Off in the distance, so small that they appeared to be no more than an inch tall, a deer appeared followed by a brown and white blur, then disappeared back into the woods. I paced and waited. After learning my lesson previously, I remained in the last place the dogs had seen me and waited for them to return.
Almost exactly five minutes after they had run off, both dogs appeared heading towards me from opposite directions. Casey was panting and bounding towards me. She almost barreled into me, but dodged at the last minute. On her return trip to me, she jumped up in the air to show me how much fun she had just had. She was almost saying, "Do it again mom! Bring the deer back again!!!" Blue, on the other hand, slowly walked towards me and fell over on his side as soon as he reached me. All I heard from him were snorting gasps while he attempted to catch his breath through the huge grin on his face. I could not stop laughing. For the rest of the walk, no leashes were needed since the dogs remained within twenty feet at all times.
Ever since that day, we've gone back to the field several times, and each time the routine is the same. Dogs see deer. Dogs chase deer. Dogs return exhilarated and exhausted. Emily is thrilled. (Though she's always careful NOT to let the dogs go if she sees fawns...) I've been trying to take pictures, but my camera is too slow....all you see are blurs :-) Lately, I think the deer are no longer frightened of Blue (who will never catch them, but NEVER fails to chase them if given the chance.) They will see him coming, wait until I'm sure they can see the whites of his eyes, and then run away. Poor Blue either doesn't understand that he has no chance, or simply doesn't care. I think it's the latter. To him, the running is worth it. Casey doesn't seem to be as driven. Sometimes she'll chase the deer. Other times she'll see them and it's almost like she thinks, "Meh. Not worth it."
I realize that it's an odd way to relieve stress, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The fact that I'm outside in the beautiful fall weather, coupled by the fact that this is cheap entertainment, coupled with the fact that I'm certain the dogs will never catch a deer...well, it's more fun than memorizing all the bones in the human body....
So what do you do to relieve stress? Any other cheap easy suggestions that may or may not involve dogs?
(Oh yes, and thanks for all of the suggestions for studying... I've made flash cards in the past with mixed results, so I'm trying them again. And I searched for online quizzes, but mostly found multiple choice options. What I need are "fill in the blank." Any other ideas to help memorization are greatly appreciated. As of now, I carry my flash cards everywhere. Yep. I'm pretty cool...)
I've been low on the willpower lately. I don't know if it's because all of my energy is focused on worrying about school, because it's getting cooler and my body is trying to enter hibernation mode (read: eat Qdoba 24/7), because tuition payments are sucking out my soul, or because I'm just worrying about school a lot (I'm sorry, did I list that twice? Hmmm.) but lately, if I want to watch football, I watch football. If I want to wear a sweatshirt to work, I wear a sweatshirt to work. (I think my boss is afraid to mention the sweatshirts.) Diet Coke? Psshhh. There is no "diet" in "stressed." If I want to have warm bodies to snuggle with in bed, I let the dogs sleep up with me. If I see juicy tasty dog treats that cost more than the food I'm buying myself, I buy them for the dogs. Apparently, if I am going to be stressed, I am going to use my dogs to bring me joy.
The dogs? They are getting spoiled. I don't think they mind being used.
There's a huge fenced in field near my house. "Fenced in" being the operative words there. It's part of Crown Hill Cemetery, and it contains tall grass, some dense woods, a huge wide open field, and (most importantly) an overabundance of deer. Now, pit bulls aren't like, say, beagles, or huskies. Pit bulls are pretty emotionally attached to their humans... So after a lecture about how I should trust my dogs more, I let them both off their leash and let them roam around the field. They didn't go far... until Blue spotted the deer. Immediately both dogs took off after the bouncing white tails. I would have been more frightened of losing my dogs if the scene hadn't been so hilarious. Neither Blue nor Casey is taller than maybe two feet from the ground, but while Casey is all legs, Blue is mostly muscle. The deer seemed to be as tall, if not taller, than I was...their backs, I mean. Their heads seemed like they would tower over me. Not to mention the antlers on some of them. Sheesh. There is no hunting in the cemetery, so these deer are BIG.
While Blue is moving his little legs as fast as he possibly can, the deer are getting further and further away from him. Still, he's running with a huge grin on his face and his tongue flapping in the wind. The deer disappeared into the woods, and without hesitation, Blue crashed in after them. At this point, even though I had lost sight of my dog, I could hear him crashing through sticks and leaves and in general being about the worst tracker he could be. He's not a graceful dog to begin with, so I could tell he was using the "run through obstacles" option instead of the "avoid obstacles" option.
Meanwhile, one deer had peeled itself from the group and veered away from the woods and back into the meadow. This is the one that Casey decided to pursue. Her legs are longer, and she's pretty agile, so it was awesome to watch her keep up with the deer as it zigged and zagged across the field. She never gained any ground, but she was definitely hanging in there. Eventually her deer went into the woods also, and she followed.
For a while, everything was quiet while I waited. I counted the seconds in my head to keep myself from freaking out. "...fifty-nine....sixty. It's only been a minute. Everything is fine. Sixty-one...sixty-two..."
Off in the distance, so small that they appeared to be no more than an inch tall, a deer appeared followed by a brown and white blur, then disappeared back into the woods. I paced and waited. After learning my lesson previously, I remained in the last place the dogs had seen me and waited for them to return.
Almost exactly five minutes after they had run off, both dogs appeared heading towards me from opposite directions. Casey was panting and bounding towards me. She almost barreled into me, but dodged at the last minute. On her return trip to me, she jumped up in the air to show me how much fun she had just had. She was almost saying, "Do it again mom! Bring the deer back again!!!" Blue, on the other hand, slowly walked towards me and fell over on his side as soon as he reached me. All I heard from him were snorting gasps while he attempted to catch his breath through the huge grin on his face. I could not stop laughing. For the rest of the walk, no leashes were needed since the dogs remained within twenty feet at all times.
Ever since that day, we've gone back to the field several times, and each time the routine is the same. Dogs see deer. Dogs chase deer. Dogs return exhilarated and exhausted. Emily is thrilled. (Though she's always careful NOT to let the dogs go if she sees fawns...) I've been trying to take pictures, but my camera is too slow....all you see are blurs :-) Lately, I think the deer are no longer frightened of Blue (who will never catch them, but NEVER fails to chase them if given the chance.) They will see him coming, wait until I'm sure they can see the whites of his eyes, and then run away. Poor Blue either doesn't understand that he has no chance, or simply doesn't care. I think it's the latter. To him, the running is worth it. Casey doesn't seem to be as driven. Sometimes she'll chase the deer. Other times she'll see them and it's almost like she thinks, "Meh. Not worth it."
I realize that it's an odd way to relieve stress, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The fact that I'm outside in the beautiful fall weather, coupled by the fact that this is cheap entertainment, coupled with the fact that I'm certain the dogs will never catch a deer...well, it's more fun than memorizing all the bones in the human body....
So what do you do to relieve stress? Any other cheap easy suggestions that may or may not involve dogs?
(Oh yes, and thanks for all of the suggestions for studying... I've made flash cards in the past with mixed results, so I'm trying them again. And I searched for online quizzes, but mostly found multiple choice options. What I need are "fill in the blank." Any other ideas to help memorization are greatly appreciated. As of now, I carry my flash cards everywhere. Yep. I'm pretty cool...)
Sunday, September 28, 2008
It's not an island, you just can't see past the hills...
I had the most fabulous dinner out this weekend. I laughed so often that I swear shrimp almost came out of my nose. We all finished dinner and sat around annoying the waiter for at least another hour. When we departed, the conversation lingered in the parking lot as we were all reluctant to end the night. That's nothing remarkable to blog about - getting together with friends is always fun, and sometimes you find a group that just particularly gels together. I have lots of different circles of friends, and we all have fun in different ways. But this dinner was different, and I couldn't figure out why the night was so fun until one of the attendees pointed out that everyone at the table was over thirty and childless. (Although I'm sure that if someone read a transcript of the conversations that we had, they would put the age of the group at somewhere around 18.)
I was surprised at what a nice change that was. For once, I didn't feel like the 'crazy one who doesn't know what she's missing because she doesn't want kids.' We had dinner on a Saturday night and lingered with no timeframe in mind. We discussed a group skydiving trip and 6 out of the 8 in the group were in. I went back to a friend's house and we stayed out until 2:00am. We talked about group trips and didn't have to plan around school or baby sitting etc. etc. It was different, and that itself was surprising. So many of my friends now have children that making considerations for children when we make plans is just commonplace. (Note: it is not a burden to make considerations for children. Please please please don't take it that way. I am not here to bash my friends who have kids - especially since so many of them are awesome. This is just an observation.)
I've accepted that I'm in the minority since I don't want children. Each time a good friend of mine announces a pregnancy, I greet the news with joy and I attend the baby shower with a gift that I try to put some thought into (but seriously, I don't know the good things to get. I try, though! Specific instructions that don't include the words "breast" or "pump" are always appreciated...) I ask about updates on the pregnancy, I can't wait to know the sex and the name of the new addition... I even follow a blogger who is about to have her second child, and I anticipate each update as much for her writing and observations as for the subject matter and pictures. But I'm always a bit hesitant. Is my latest newly pregnant friend going to turn into "that mom?" You know the one. This is the woman who has a baby, usually quits her job, and is suddenly incapable of speaking about anything other than her child and the day to day "achievements" or "challenges" that she faces, much less hearing about the lives of others who don't involve her child. Dear God, just shoot me now.
Luckily, I've been largely unscathed. I can do a shout out to all my awesome mom friends individually, but that would take much too long. I can point out the people I've known who have become "that mom," which would be a much shorter list, but I'll keep the gloves up and try to be nice. I'll suffice to say that the awesome moms realize that there are different friends for different discussions. They help me out with the updates on their children (they know that I don't know what to ask, but they help me out with the important information anyway.) At the same time, they still keep it on a level that I'll understand. (The real in-depth mommy talk would be over my head anyway.) The awesome moms also still ask about my life and what's going on with me. Our conversation is not simply dominated by baby-talk, even though I'm sure they would like it to be, but it's also not dominated by dogs/school/politics like I would prefer it to be. :-) The effort put forth by both parties ensures that the friendship between "maternal" and "non-maternal" will endure. I might be biased, but I think that you need all sorts of friends in your life with all sorts of viewpoints, no?
I don't begrudge women their decision to have children. I just seriously dread the women who become "that mom." I thought it was mostly because of the loss of my friend when they morph into this completely self absorbed creature, but now I'm realizing the pressure that comes with "those moms" and how much that affects me, even if I don't want it to. My intense reaction to "those moms" is for a variety of reasons, but the most obvious one is that I don't like being called out for discussing topics other than their child (ahem.) You had a child, and they are your whole world. I know. But they're not mine. If you can't understand that I'm not going to want to talk about your child 24/7 or if you are incapable of discussing any other topic, well, it's going to stress me out to spend time with you and I'll probably do my best to avoid it*.
I thought that was it. But after a dinner with other childless friends, I realized that what I feel is implicit in that refusal to discuss anything other than the new child is a judgment on me for not wanting to have children. "Look at me! My entire life has changed in such a profound way! It is so awesome! This is obviously the right decision! Best thing I ever did! Emily, you should so totally be interested in this - what's wrong with you if you aren't? This experience is just so awesome. I mean, I just can't put it into words. It's just so....great. You wouldn't understand." Whether that's actually being put forth by some moms, or if it's in my head, either way it's a subtle pressure that I'm feeling more and more as those around me have children, plan to have children, try to have children, or can't wait to get married and have children.
I get it. I really do. Having children is awesome. It truly changes your life, perspective and everything in between. I just don't think it's a decision for me.
Feeling that pressure is my problem, and I get that. I have to work on that. But the thing is, I don't feel that pressure from the "awesome moms." All I feel from them is joy over their children. That, in turn, makes me enjoy spending time with them and their children whenever it's possible for us to get together. So then, what's the difference between seeing my "awesome mom" friends and going out with a group of childless friends?
Well, I guess that not only was the subtle pressure gone, but I see other people who have made the same decision I've made... and their life looks pretty darn good from where I'm sitting. In the absence of a "What to Expect" book to tell me how to circumnavigate life with no children, it was nice to see that others have gone before me and they're satisfied with their life and how they lived it. The decision not to have children isn't worse than the decision to have children. It's not better than the decision to have children. It's just a different path. I guess I didn't realize how nice it was to have that path reaffirmed every now and then.
*I tried to keep the gloves up. Really I did.
I was surprised at what a nice change that was. For once, I didn't feel like the 'crazy one who doesn't know what she's missing because she doesn't want kids.' We had dinner on a Saturday night and lingered with no timeframe in mind. We discussed a group skydiving trip and 6 out of the 8 in the group were in. I went back to a friend's house and we stayed out until 2:00am. We talked about group trips and didn't have to plan around school or baby sitting etc. etc. It was different, and that itself was surprising. So many of my friends now have children that making considerations for children when we make plans is just commonplace. (Note: it is not a burden to make considerations for children. Please please please don't take it that way. I am not here to bash my friends who have kids - especially since so many of them are awesome. This is just an observation.)
I've accepted that I'm in the minority since I don't want children. Each time a good friend of mine announces a pregnancy, I greet the news with joy and I attend the baby shower with a gift that I try to put some thought into (but seriously, I don't know the good things to get. I try, though! Specific instructions that don't include the words "breast" or "pump" are always appreciated...) I ask about updates on the pregnancy, I can't wait to know the sex and the name of the new addition... I even follow a blogger who is about to have her second child, and I anticipate each update as much for her writing and observations as for the subject matter and pictures. But I'm always a bit hesitant. Is my latest newly pregnant friend going to turn into "that mom?" You know the one. This is the woman who has a baby, usually quits her job, and is suddenly incapable of speaking about anything other than her child and the day to day "achievements" or "challenges" that she faces, much less hearing about the lives of others who don't involve her child. Dear God, just shoot me now.
Luckily, I've been largely unscathed. I can do a shout out to all my awesome mom friends individually, but that would take much too long. I can point out the people I've known who have become "that mom," which would be a much shorter list, but I'll keep the gloves up and try to be nice. I'll suffice to say that the awesome moms realize that there are different friends for different discussions. They help me out with the updates on their children (they know that I don't know what to ask, but they help me out with the important information anyway.) At the same time, they still keep it on a level that I'll understand. (The real in-depth mommy talk would be over my head anyway.) The awesome moms also still ask about my life and what's going on with me. Our conversation is not simply dominated by baby-talk, even though I'm sure they would like it to be, but it's also not dominated by dogs/school/politics like I would prefer it to be. :-) The effort put forth by both parties ensures that the friendship between "maternal" and "non-maternal" will endure. I might be biased, but I think that you need all sorts of friends in your life with all sorts of viewpoints, no?
I don't begrudge women their decision to have children. I just seriously dread the women who become "that mom." I thought it was mostly because of the loss of my friend when they morph into this completely self absorbed creature, but now I'm realizing the pressure that comes with "those moms" and how much that affects me, even if I don't want it to. My intense reaction to "those moms" is for a variety of reasons, but the most obvious one is that I don't like being called out for discussing topics other than their child (ahem.) You had a child, and they are your whole world. I know. But they're not mine. If you can't understand that I'm not going to want to talk about your child 24/7 or if you are incapable of discussing any other topic, well, it's going to stress me out to spend time with you and I'll probably do my best to avoid it*.
I thought that was it. But after a dinner with other childless friends, I realized that what I feel is implicit in that refusal to discuss anything other than the new child is a judgment on me for not wanting to have children. "Look at me! My entire life has changed in such a profound way! It is so awesome! This is obviously the right decision! Best thing I ever did! Emily, you should so totally be interested in this - what's wrong with you if you aren't? This experience is just so awesome. I mean, I just can't put it into words. It's just so....great. You wouldn't understand." Whether that's actually being put forth by some moms, or if it's in my head, either way it's a subtle pressure that I'm feeling more and more as those around me have children, plan to have children, try to have children, or can't wait to get married and have children.
I get it. I really do. Having children is awesome. It truly changes your life, perspective and everything in between. I just don't think it's a decision for me.
Feeling that pressure is my problem, and I get that. I have to work on that. But the thing is, I don't feel that pressure from the "awesome moms." All I feel from them is joy over their children. That, in turn, makes me enjoy spending time with them and their children whenever it's possible for us to get together. So then, what's the difference between seeing my "awesome mom" friends and going out with a group of childless friends?
Well, I guess that not only was the subtle pressure gone, but I see other people who have made the same decision I've made... and their life looks pretty darn good from where I'm sitting. In the absence of a "What to Expect" book to tell me how to circumnavigate life with no children, it was nice to see that others have gone before me and they're satisfied with their life and how they lived it. The decision not to have children isn't worse than the decision to have children. It's not better than the decision to have children. It's just a different path. I guess I didn't realize how nice it was to have that path reaffirmed every now and then.
*I tried to keep the gloves up. Really I did.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
I don't get it*
While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75-year-old rancher whose hand was caught in the gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually, the topic got around to Sarah Palin and her bid.
The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Palin is a 'post turtle.' "
Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a 'post turtle' was.
The old rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a 'post turtle.' " The old rancher saw the puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain. "You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, and she doesn't know what to do while she's up there; so you just wonder what kind of dummy put her up there to begin with."
*The blog title is sarcasm. Since no one seems to know when I'm being sarcastic, I'll go ahead and try to head off a bunch of comments where people try to explain the idea behind the joke...
The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Palin is a 'post turtle.' "
Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a 'post turtle' was.
The old rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a 'post turtle.' " The old rancher saw the puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain. "You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, and she doesn't know what to do while she's up there; so you just wonder what kind of dummy put her up there to begin with."
*The blog title is sarcasm. Since no one seems to know when I'm being sarcastic, I'll go ahead and try to head off a bunch of comments where people try to explain the idea behind the joke...
Friday, September 26, 2008
A plea for help
I don't blog about serious stuff here. I try to make people laugh. I am a teller of stories. Hopefully those stories make you smile. Sometimes they should make you glad they didn't happen to you. Sometimes the stories are supposed to make you tell me how cute my dogs are. Sometimes I want to share the random exciting thing that happens in my life. Sometimes I just want to rant. But I try not to post about politics. (Sometimes I fail.)
Basically, I like to tell stories. I try to keep it lighthearted and sometimes sarcastic. (Though apparently I need to make the sarcasm a little bit more apparent. Hmmm.)
But today I need help. Seriously. Help.
I wasn't going to talk about this, but after commiserating with Ann I thought I would use this blog to A) let her know that she's not alone, and B) seriously see if there's something I haven't thought of to help myself out. I mean, you guys were good with suggestions for Tyson, maybe you can help me with this.
I have met my nemesis, and it is Biology. I have taken two tests and taken two ass beatings with the worst one happening yesterday evening when I left five fill-in-the-blank questions blank on a 35 question exam. The test yesterday followed a test a week prior that also did not go as well as hoped.
Total, I would say that I spent 30 hours studying for both tests. Um, that's on top of the 5 hours of class per week and the 40 hours of work per week. I'm not sure much more studying will fit. I know it's not the amount of studying, but the way you're studying, right? So help me.
Here's what I'm facing. I'm intelligent. I'm a problem solver. For all my difficulties with chemistry, I can handle chemistry. There are problems, I learn the concepts associated, I learn to solve the problems, I do well on the tests (providing I put in my study time.) The bonus to this is that I remember the concepts and can apply them to other situations later on. I learn by doing. By applying. I learned to knit from a website with pictures. I imitated the pictures and got the concept pretty quickly. But I have to DO. I have to apply. You can't tell Emily the college student about the great program that is Microsoft Access and show her examples of how it can be used. She won't get it at all. But put her in a work environment where Microsoft Access is USED, and she's all about using it for process improvements and efficiencies. In fact, if you put her in a NEW job where there is no Access, she can immediately see how much Access could help out and implement it successfully. (true story, btw)
Biology is all about the memorization, and people, I am sucking it up at the memorization. Seriously. I read my biology chapter and it all makes perfect sense. I get it. I'm down wit' dat. I understand the concept of evolution, I understand the concept of classifying organisms into classes and phylums and how they're all related. But ask me the phylum of a spider? Um... An example of a porifera? Um...
And, seriously, I read all of that crap. Not only that, but in my study group we discussed at length how all the concepts tie into each other. I can now recite to you exactly how the life cycle of a protozoa goes. I can tell you how the protozoa that causes malaria is both sexual and asexual. I can apply that. But the name of the phylum that contains that protozoa? Um...
And folks, I read the material. I copied my notes into a different format. In desperation, I typed my notes on the computer. We discuss the concepts out loud when we study. But do I remember what the three structures of a sponge are called? Well, right now I do. (asconoid, sychonoid, and leucanoid) In a fill in the blank test? Not so much. Do I know the phylum that contains the earthworm? Yes. But since it's sheer memorization (and I managed to retain that piece of information) if he asks me to apply it, I'm at a loss.
So... memorization techniques? Ways to help me maximize my study time? Help me! Seriously! With a class where there are concepts to learn and problems to solve, I know how to study. In a world where I have to memorize huge amounts of information (when in real life Google is a girl's best friend) I'm failing, I have no idea how to do better. Seriously - as a student who never had to struggle much with school, I'm starting to get a complex...along with this annoying tic in my left eye. :-)
The next lab exam is over the skeletal system (not just the bones, but the different PARTS of the bones for God's sake.) That's complete memorization. It's not like I can figure out a formula to help me determine the name of the bones he chooses to test us on. Seriously. HELP ME! I beg you. Casey and Blue beg you. Help save their mom's sanity....
Basically, I like to tell stories. I try to keep it lighthearted and sometimes sarcastic. (Though apparently I need to make the sarcasm a little bit more apparent. Hmmm.)
But today I need help. Seriously. Help.
I wasn't going to talk about this, but after commiserating with Ann I thought I would use this blog to A) let her know that she's not alone, and B) seriously see if there's something I haven't thought of to help myself out. I mean, you guys were good with suggestions for Tyson, maybe you can help me with this.
I have met my nemesis, and it is Biology. I have taken two tests and taken two ass beatings with the worst one happening yesterday evening when I left five fill-in-the-blank questions blank on a 35 question exam. The test yesterday followed a test a week prior that also did not go as well as hoped.
Total, I would say that I spent 30 hours studying for both tests. Um, that's on top of the 5 hours of class per week and the 40 hours of work per week. I'm not sure much more studying will fit. I know it's not the amount of studying, but the way you're studying, right? So help me.
Here's what I'm facing. I'm intelligent. I'm a problem solver. For all my difficulties with chemistry, I can handle chemistry. There are problems, I learn the concepts associated, I learn to solve the problems, I do well on the tests (providing I put in my study time.) The bonus to this is that I remember the concepts and can apply them to other situations later on. I learn by doing. By applying. I learned to knit from a website with pictures. I imitated the pictures and got the concept pretty quickly. But I have to DO. I have to apply. You can't tell Emily the college student about the great program that is Microsoft Access and show her examples of how it can be used. She won't get it at all. But put her in a work environment where Microsoft Access is USED, and she's all about using it for process improvements and efficiencies. In fact, if you put her in a NEW job where there is no Access, she can immediately see how much Access could help out and implement it successfully. (true story, btw)
Biology is all about the memorization, and people, I am sucking it up at the memorization. Seriously. I read my biology chapter and it all makes perfect sense. I get it. I'm down wit' dat. I understand the concept of evolution, I understand the concept of classifying organisms into classes and phylums and how they're all related. But ask me the phylum of a spider? Um... An example of a porifera? Um...
And, seriously, I read all of that crap. Not only that, but in my study group we discussed at length how all the concepts tie into each other. I can now recite to you exactly how the life cycle of a protozoa goes. I can tell you how the protozoa that causes malaria is both sexual and asexual. I can apply that. But the name of the phylum that contains that protozoa? Um...
And folks, I read the material. I copied my notes into a different format. In desperation, I typed my notes on the computer. We discuss the concepts out loud when we study. But do I remember what the three structures of a sponge are called? Well, right now I do. (asconoid, sychonoid, and leucanoid) In a fill in the blank test? Not so much. Do I know the phylum that contains the earthworm? Yes. But since it's sheer memorization (and I managed to retain that piece of information) if he asks me to apply it, I'm at a loss.
So... memorization techniques? Ways to help me maximize my study time? Help me! Seriously! With a class where there are concepts to learn and problems to solve, I know how to study. In a world where I have to memorize huge amounts of information (when in real life Google is a girl's best friend) I'm failing, I have no idea how to do better. Seriously - as a student who never had to struggle much with school, I'm starting to get a complex...along with this annoying tic in my left eye. :-)
The next lab exam is over the skeletal system (not just the bones, but the different PARTS of the bones for God's sake.) That's complete memorization. It's not like I can figure out a formula to help me determine the name of the bones he chooses to test us on. Seriously. HELP ME! I beg you. Casey and Blue beg you. Help save their mom's sanity....
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Who knew all that anger would come in handy?
I'm no gamer, but I've been known to play video games on occasion. MarioKart is an all time favorite, and was actually one of my favorite pasttimes when getting over heartbreak. And I've made no secret of my love for all things Frogger and PacMan. (And I may have secret [outdated] mad skillz with Nina in Tekken.) But I was never into the "shoot 'em up" games. I've watched GTA (and heard about the fun storylines,) but never played. The competitor in me sort of yearns to be really good at the video games that zlionsfan, ropes me into to unlock things or reach certain achievements, but I just don't have the time.
Along these lines, when Guitar Hero came out, I didn't understand the excitement from zlionsfan. It was a fun game, and I could see how it would become mildly addictive, but to spend hours upon hours on that game? Then came Rock Band. Okay. It's Guitar Hero with more instruments and singing. I get it. I can play the guitar okay. I can play the bass okay. The drums look like they're way too complicated (and after seeing my cousin play - who was AWESOME - I'm super intimidated.) And singing? You mean, singing in front of people? No thanks. Besides, Rock Band was mostly 70s rock with which I am not well acquainted. (Sorry sorry sorry. In my defense - I know some of the songs!! Just not all of them.) I mean, Rock Band is fun and all, sure. Especially in a group of people. But to spend lots of time on it? Meh.
Enter Rock Band 2. All of a sudden, I know the songs I'm playing. All of a sudden, Rock Band is much more fun. All of a sudden, I'm dropping off a book for zlionsfan and staying until 10:30pm playing "one more song." Damn. But still, given the control freak in me (and with that, the dislike of making a complete fool of myself) I stick to the guitar. No drums, and no singing.
Last night we were playing "one more song" and it happened to be Alanis Morrissette. Specifically 'You Oughta Know.' Emily on guitar and zlionsfan on vocals. We play. We don't do so well. We try again, we don't do so well. In an unprecedented move I say,
"Let me sing."
I know, right? Zlionsfan tried his best to talk me out of it. He expressed doubt in that gentle way he has, and reminded me that it was on expert. I'm sure he was trying to help me avoid an epic fail. I stuck to my guns.
"C'mon. Let me sing."
What he probably didn't realize is that any woman scorned has at one point or another cranked up Alanis and sang along. That song is probably the anthem for a woman scorned. I'm not saying I've ever been a woman scorned before (cough cough) but, you know, I may have sang that tune a time or two (or fifty or sixty.) I know that song. I know the venomous nuances. I wouldn't put myself out there singing (even in front of a close friend) if I didn't think I could do it. So despite his doubt, I took the mic.
Dude, I totally nailed that shit. On expert. Go me. Happy dance for one. First song ever sang in Rock Band - woo hoo! There was no containing my happiness.
It wasn't the first time through that I was awesome. I mean, there was a learning curve of how the game works and what exactly I had to do. I did fail the first time. But in the end, I got through it, and I even got an A. :-) And then we played some other songs, and then I made him let me sing again.
(I would like to note that this does not mean I can sing well. I mean, I could hear myself. It wasn't pretty. In fact, I got an attack of the giggles, that almost made me fail, when I heard how horrible I sounded the second time around. But you don't have to sing well, apparently. You have to be on pitch, and you have to be a good mimic.)
Poor zlionsfan. He probably doesn't even know the monster he created. This might cause me to stop bugging him about MarioKart Wii. Like I need one more thing to take up my time. Man.
But, you know, we need two more people to be a band. I'm sure that if you're nice enough, zlionsfan might let you into 'Seven Years of Bad Luck.' Especially if it helps him unlock something or other. Any takers?*
*What's interesting is that my friends are divided into two camps. Those who will completely understand my excitement, and those (ahem, Kate, ahem) who will mock me endlessly for this. That's fine. I'm ready. Bring it. If I can mimic Alanis's anger, you should be very very afraid.
Along these lines, when Guitar Hero came out, I didn't understand the excitement from zlionsfan. It was a fun game, and I could see how it would become mildly addictive, but to spend hours upon hours on that game? Then came Rock Band. Okay. It's Guitar Hero with more instruments and singing. I get it. I can play the guitar okay. I can play the bass okay. The drums look like they're way too complicated (and after seeing my cousin play - who was AWESOME - I'm super intimidated.) And singing? You mean, singing in front of people? No thanks. Besides, Rock Band was mostly 70s rock with which I am not well acquainted. (Sorry sorry sorry. In my defense - I know some of the songs!! Just not all of them.) I mean, Rock Band is fun and all, sure. Especially in a group of people. But to spend lots of time on it? Meh.
Enter Rock Band 2. All of a sudden, I know the songs I'm playing. All of a sudden, Rock Band is much more fun. All of a sudden, I'm dropping off a book for zlionsfan and staying until 10:30pm playing "one more song." Damn. But still, given the control freak in me (and with that, the dislike of making a complete fool of myself) I stick to the guitar. No drums, and no singing.
Last night we were playing "one more song" and it happened to be Alanis Morrissette. Specifically 'You Oughta Know.' Emily on guitar and zlionsfan on vocals. We play. We don't do so well. We try again, we don't do so well. In an unprecedented move I say,
"Let me sing."
I know, right? Zlionsfan tried his best to talk me out of it. He expressed doubt in that gentle way he has, and reminded me that it was on expert. I'm sure he was trying to help me avoid an epic fail. I stuck to my guns.
"C'mon. Let me sing."
What he probably didn't realize is that any woman scorned has at one point or another cranked up Alanis and sang along. That song is probably the anthem for a woman scorned. I'm not saying I've ever been a woman scorned before (cough cough) but, you know, I may have sang that tune a time or two (or fifty or sixty.) I know that song. I know the venomous nuances. I wouldn't put myself out there singing (even in front of a close friend) if I didn't think I could do it. So despite his doubt, I took the mic.
Dude, I totally nailed that shit. On expert. Go me. Happy dance for one. First song ever sang in Rock Band - woo hoo! There was no containing my happiness.
It wasn't the first time through that I was awesome. I mean, there was a learning curve of how the game works and what exactly I had to do. I did fail the first time. But in the end, I got through it, and I even got an A. :-) And then we played some other songs, and then I made him let me sing again.
(I would like to note that this does not mean I can sing well. I mean, I could hear myself. It wasn't pretty. In fact, I got an attack of the giggles, that almost made me fail, when I heard how horrible I sounded the second time around. But you don't have to sing well, apparently. You have to be on pitch, and you have to be a good mimic.)
Poor zlionsfan. He probably doesn't even know the monster he created. This might cause me to stop bugging him about MarioKart Wii. Like I need one more thing to take up my time. Man.
But, you know, we need two more people to be a band. I'm sure that if you're nice enough, zlionsfan might let you into 'Seven Years of Bad Luck.' Especially if it helps him unlock something or other. Any takers?*
*What's interesting is that my friends are divided into two camps. Those who will completely understand my excitement, and those (ahem, Kate, ahem) who will mock me endlessly for this. That's fine. I'm ready. Bring it. If I can mimic Alanis's anger, you should be very very afraid.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Daddy's Girl
"So he monopolizes my conversation, asks me what I'm doing this weekend, and then turns red, starts sputtering and runs off. WHAT THE HELL?! SERIOUSLY! I am SO done with younger men. Why do I keep dating them? I mean, how much do I have to teach them? I helped him out! I said that I was free this weekend. Then I asked him what HE was doing this weekend! What more do I have to do?! I am NOT asking him out! That's HIS job!! I've paid my dues. I've taught younger men. This school is closed. Move along Junior."
(helpless laughter.)
"Seriously!! From a male perspective, do you know what zlionsfan said that I should have answered when Junior asked me what I was doing this weekend? 'Nothing. What did you have in mind.' Can you believe that?? How much help do young boys NEED?? That's it. I'm dating only older men from here on out."
"Are you serious? You've never dated an older man in your life."
"Yes, I'm serious. I need someone older. Someone who can handle things. You know? Who will make reservations at a restaurant for date instead of having me take care of every little thing....maybe he would slip the waiter a twenty to get us a good table."
"Oh come on. No one does anymore that unless they're 55."
"Okay, okay. You know what I mean. Someone who just handles things. Who just takes care of stuff. If I have a problem, he just makes it go away."
"Oh my God! You want to date your father!"
"I do NOT want to date my father. Ew!"
(...)
"But, you know, if my dad had written a book, I'm not sure I would mind if the guy I'm dating had read it..."
(helpless laughter.)
"Seriously!! From a male perspective, do you know what zlionsfan said that I should have answered when Junior asked me what I was doing this weekend? 'Nothing. What did you have in mind.' Can you believe that?? How much help do young boys NEED?? That's it. I'm dating only older men from here on out."
"Are you serious? You've never dated an older man in your life."
"Yes, I'm serious. I need someone older. Someone who can handle things. You know? Who will make reservations at a restaurant for date instead of having me take care of every little thing....maybe he would slip the waiter a twenty to get us a good table."
"Oh come on. No one does anymore that unless they're 55."
"Okay, okay. You know what I mean. Someone who just handles things. Who just takes care of stuff. If I have a problem, he just makes it go away."
"Oh my God! You want to date your father!"
"I do NOT want to date my father. Ew!"
(...)
"But, you know, if my dad had written a book, I'm not sure I would mind if the guy I'm dating had read it..."
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Not the Sexy One
So, Halloween is approaching. It's one of my favorite holidays, but I'll be honest and say that I haven't dressed up as anything other than "Emily" or "typical late 20 year old" or "returning student" in years. I've also spent the last 6 apartment dwelling years handing out the "good candy" to trick-or-treaters if only because there are remarkably few trick-or-treaters in apartment complexes, and I get to keep the left overs.
But this year, my little brother and his wife live near Indianapolis, and if I like Halloween, they love Halloween. They're already planning their Halloween party, and it didn't take long for them to hit up me and the boy for a costume idea. What is it, you ask? Well, I'll get to that.
First, a word about my little brother and his wife. (And by "little" I mean "younger." There is nothing "little" about the genetically blessed, 6'0" tall, blue eyed handsome man that I am related to. We also could not be more polar opposite... Luckily I am saved from bitterness about his genetic good luck by having multiple embarrassing photos of the chubby little precursor [with one very unfortunate hair cut] to the handsome adonis who now greets me with "Hey sis." Not that photos of my younger years aren't equally embarrassing, it's just that I don't care, and my brother would rather believe he emerged from the womb the perfect male specimen he is today.) My brother and his wife are the golden couple. They met in high school, dated through college, got married, honeymooned in Hawaii, bought the perfect house and will now set about filling the perfect house with perfect furniture until they decide to procreate and have perfect children. If I didn't love my brother so much, all of that would be intensely irritating. As it is, his wife and I definitely have our differences to work through, but I'm sure we'll make it there someday. (right??)
I'm in a bind here because I don't want to post a picture of my brother and sister-in-law without their permission, but I also don't want to tell them about my blog. So basically, what I'm going to do is post a picture of me and the boy that my brother and sister-in-law happen to be in, and hope they never find out. I'm not using their names, so the chances of someone stumbling upon their picture with a google search is remote, right? (right??) So here we are in all of our familial glory.
Guess who's who.
Now, if you look at that group, what group Halloween costume comes to mind? Anything?? Anything?? I guess you might have to know each person's personalities a bit better to know which direction I'm heading in, so let me help. We've covered the brother and sister-in-law's perfection. How about if I mention that the boy is more comfortable in khakis than in a suit. And if you haven't inferred it, the boy is a bit...um... laid back. Relaxed. Chill about life. And me? I love to read.
Nothing yet? K. Here's a hint.
The funny thing is that when the idea was brought up, no one had to ask what character they would be playing. There was a bit of awkwardness when my brother and sister-in-law talked about who they were going to be, like they didn't want to assume, but seriously. I mean, my clean-cut brother being Shaggy? Please. Maybe Scooby, but that was never really considered. :-) And me as Daphne? Seriously? I mean, be the sexy one? There's no way I would do it. (Not that I couldn't play that role and wouldn't like to be asked, ahem...) Anyway, aren't Fred and Daphne a couple? And don't Shaggy and Scooby (possibly to be played by Tyson in a mask - can't wait until I get to blog about THAT story) get along best? Of course I was going to be short, not as attractive (and yet always smarter,) Velma (who has about zero sex appeal.) Fabulous. I'm thrilled. Can't wait. Sign me up. (I guess I should have read this article sooner.)
In retrospect, what I should have done was "assumed" that I was going to play Daphne and waited to see how long it would have taken my brother to call me and let me know that actually, I am supposed to be playing the role of Velma. THAT would have been a fun conversation to let him stumble through. Damn.
And then I realize that it is their Halloween party. And they are the ones who really love Halloween. I guess don't mind playing a supporting role in this costume that will make their Halloween so special*. I'll be the "not sexy one" this time. No problem. It just means I get to choose the next group Halloween costume. Any suggestions?
(This would be where I insert that I am obviously not dead and have miraculously lived through the "sinus infection" and only have remnants of a cough left...though I'm still sleeping a ton. Yay for not dying!!!)
*oh, and the Halloween party is taking place at the perfect house where I'll make sure Tyson has the perfect accident on the perfect basement carpet.
But this year, my little brother and his wife live near Indianapolis, and if I like Halloween, they love Halloween. They're already planning their Halloween party, and it didn't take long for them to hit up me and the boy for a costume idea. What is it, you ask? Well, I'll get to that.
First, a word about my little brother and his wife. (And by "little" I mean "younger." There is nothing "little" about the genetically blessed, 6'0" tall, blue eyed handsome man that I am related to. We also could not be more polar opposite... Luckily I am saved from bitterness about his genetic good luck by having multiple embarrassing photos of the chubby little precursor [with one very unfortunate hair cut] to the handsome adonis who now greets me with "Hey sis." Not that photos of my younger years aren't equally embarrassing, it's just that I don't care, and my brother would rather believe he emerged from the womb the perfect male specimen he is today.) My brother and his wife are the golden couple. They met in high school, dated through college, got married, honeymooned in Hawaii, bought the perfect house and will now set about filling the perfect house with perfect furniture until they decide to procreate and have perfect children. If I didn't love my brother so much, all of that would be intensely irritating. As it is, his wife and I definitely have our differences to work through, but I'm sure we'll make it there someday. (right??)
I'm in a bind here because I don't want to post a picture of my brother and sister-in-law without their permission, but I also don't want to tell them about my blog. So basically, what I'm going to do is post a picture of me and the boy that my brother and sister-in-law happen to be in, and hope they never find out. I'm not using their names, so the chances of someone stumbling upon their picture with a google search is remote, right? (right??) So here we are in all of our familial glory.
Guess who's who.
Now, if you look at that group, what group Halloween costume comes to mind? Anything?? Anything?? I guess you might have to know each person's personalities a bit better to know which direction I'm heading in, so let me help. We've covered the brother and sister-in-law's perfection. How about if I mention that the boy is more comfortable in khakis than in a suit. And if you haven't inferred it, the boy is a bit...um... laid back. Relaxed. Chill about life. And me? I love to read.
Nothing yet? K. Here's a hint.
The funny thing is that when the idea was brought up, no one had to ask what character they would be playing. There was a bit of awkwardness when my brother and sister-in-law talked about who they were going to be, like they didn't want to assume, but seriously. I mean, my clean-cut brother being Shaggy? Please. Maybe Scooby, but that was never really considered. :-) And me as Daphne? Seriously? I mean, be the sexy one? There's no way I would do it. (Not that I couldn't play that role and wouldn't like to be asked, ahem...) Anyway, aren't Fred and Daphne a couple? And don't Shaggy and Scooby (possibly to be played by Tyson in a mask - can't wait until I get to blog about THAT story) get along best? Of course I was going to be short, not as attractive (and yet always smarter,) Velma (who has about zero sex appeal.) Fabulous. I'm thrilled. Can't wait. Sign me up. (I guess I should have read this article sooner.)
In retrospect, what I should have done was "assumed" that I was going to play Daphne and waited to see how long it would have taken my brother to call me and let me know that actually, I am supposed to be playing the role of Velma. THAT would have been a fun conversation to let him stumble through. Damn.
And then I realize that it is their Halloween party. And they are the ones who really love Halloween. I guess don't mind playing a supporting role in this costume that will make their Halloween so special*. I'll be the "not sexy one" this time. No problem. It just means I get to choose the next group Halloween costume. Any suggestions?
(This would be where I insert that I am obviously not dead and have miraculously lived through the "sinus infection" and only have remnants of a cough left...though I'm still sleeping a ton. Yay for not dying!!!)
*oh, and the Halloween party is taking place at the perfect house where I'll make sure Tyson has the perfect accident on the perfect basement carpet.
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