There are often days when I really believe the job I have is my dream job: I’m ever-so-overqualified for it, I very rarely stress out about it when I’m not here, and the other people in my department love me and for the most part I love them back. Especially a certain guy who works on the other side of my building. That’s right … The Boy and I work in the same place. We met working at the same place, so it’s fitting. Disgustingly sweet, right? We eat lunch together almost every day and if I really need him, he’s only a two-minute walk away. It’s pretty fantastic. But that’s not really why this is (often) my dream job … although it surely helps keep me satisfied with my lot.
I say this all the time: I’ve never been a career-oriented person. I was an English major, people. Ask Avenue Q about that. I’m the kind of person who spent her time in college enjoying going to college, not thinking about what would happen afterwards. I’m the kind of person who graduated with a high GPA and no clue about what to do next. I’m the kind of person who moved back in w/her parents for almost a year after earning her Bachelor of Arts and took an unpaid internship during that time just to be hanging out at a regional theatre. I’m the kind of person who has only quit a job to take another one in the same town once her whole life. And it was to take the job I have now.
Now that I am in a combination of arts education, higher-ed administration, clerical, and theatre arts (I never know which box to check on surveys), I realize that I’m kind of a lazy person. I don’t really have job ambitions outside of being exceptional and indispensable wherever I work. Oh, and never having to dress up. If it’s not business casual, it’s not for me.
Sure, there are lots of jobs I’d love to have: full-time actor, company manager, responsible and admired celebrity, entertainment writer/critic, professional food-taster, seeing-eye-dog trainer. But the things we say we want to be when we grow up hardly ever stick with us. I once wanted to be the first female President b/c I thought it was the highest-paying job in the world. But now I just want to do my work, have time to surf the Internet a little, laugh a lot, and head home or out with friends. I guess I’m easily contented. Not a bad thing to be, even for an English major.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
i wonder when i'll finally find my dream job.
does anyone ever know what they want to be when they grow up? i think that even my dad who is in his mid-50s still doesn't know what his dream job would be. he's been in the same business for nearly 30 years now and he's phenomenal at what he does...but i don't know if he would classify it as his dream job come true. please tell me that i'm not the only one who works because of the paycheck or benefits.
i guess my job is okay, but i know i never daydreamed of being in higher education financial aid. as i'm sure most in my profession do, i stumbled upon my current position. i never set out to be where i am today, but i'm not really sure what i set out to do in the first place. i went to college, but i never said, 'ah, yes. i want to major in such-and-such so that i can become a _________.' not once.
i don't love my job and unfortunately, i have more bad days than good. perhaps it's because i've only been in this position for a few months. i have so much to learn, but i find myself not even wanting to learn it. i lack the motivation to even try and i leave the office feeling frustrated, deflated and defeated.
i rack my brain, trying to think of what i would love to do. most of the time though, my dream job would require a ton of schooling or a ton of talent, of which i have neither. i would love to be a nurse...or a dancer on broadway. i sometimes think it would be fun to be a cruise ship director...or work at a secluded resort on an island somewhere. so until then, i sit and wonder about when i'll perhaps stumble upon a job that truly grabs me by the heart and mind. perhaps it will sneak up on me from out of nowhere that strikes up the passion in me that has been missing from my professional world for some time now.
i guess my job is okay, but i know i never daydreamed of being in higher education financial aid. as i'm sure most in my profession do, i stumbled upon my current position. i never set out to be where i am today, but i'm not really sure what i set out to do in the first place. i went to college, but i never said, 'ah, yes. i want to major in such-and-such so that i can become a _________.' not once.
i don't love my job and unfortunately, i have more bad days than good. perhaps it's because i've only been in this position for a few months. i have so much to learn, but i find myself not even wanting to learn it. i lack the motivation to even try and i leave the office feeling frustrated, deflated and defeated.
i rack my brain, trying to think of what i would love to do. most of the time though, my dream job would require a ton of schooling or a ton of talent, of which i have neither. i would love to be a nurse...or a dancer on broadway. i sometimes think it would be fun to be a cruise ship director...or work at a secluded resort on an island somewhere. so until then, i sit and wonder about when i'll perhaps stumble upon a job that truly grabs me by the heart and mind. perhaps it will sneak up on me from out of nowhere that strikes up the passion in me that has been missing from my professional world for some time now.
Friday, July 27, 2007
I Wonder What the Recipe for Gaining 7 Pounds in a Week is?
My husband was traveling for work a week ago and after he returned, I realized a few things. One giant thing was that my pants didn't fit so well anymore. The other thing was that I discovered I had magically gained seven pounds during the week. Seven. The number that appeared on the scale while in The Sharper Image was so mortifying that I quickly jumped off so that no one would see it and have a heart attack. I put on a skirt a few days later that is one of the biggest sizes in my closet and it was tight. I was disgusted. So disgusted, in fact, that when we went out for dinner last night after our weekly golf lesson, I was forced to order a salad. In a restaurant where you never order a salad. You order full of fat things that are so yummy your tongue thanks you the minute the tastiness hits its buds. -sigh- So, I was forced to take stock of what had caused this unwelcome weight gain. I think I've finally cracked the code:
1. Turn 30 and have metabolism immediately slow down.
2. Take one husband and send him to work in a distant land for 5 1/2 days.
3. Add one lonely wife in a semi-new place with only a few friends.
4. Fold in wonderful delivery service of Domino's pizza and Papa John's breadsticks and cheesesticks.
5. Mix in thousands of calories of snacks. Baker's choice. Some suggestions: barbecue potato chips, pretzels, Easy Cheese, Triscuits and Cheetos.
6. Blend in a couple of bad days at work.
7. Add five nights of couch potato activity. Again, baker's choice. Some suggestions to help things along: "So You Think You Can Dance", "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels", "The Girls Next Door" re-runs, and "Big Love".
8. Wait for thighs to spread and become jiggly. Fold in a workout plateau. Wait for thighs to double.
And there you have it.
1. Turn 30 and have metabolism immediately slow down.
2. Take one husband and send him to work in a distant land for 5 1/2 days.
3. Add one lonely wife in a semi-new place with only a few friends.
4. Fold in wonderful delivery service of Domino's pizza and Papa John's breadsticks and cheesesticks.
5. Mix in thousands of calories of snacks. Baker's choice. Some suggestions: barbecue potato chips, pretzels, Easy Cheese, Triscuits and Cheetos.
6. Blend in a couple of bad days at work.
7. Add five nights of couch potato activity. Again, baker's choice. Some suggestions to help things along: "So You Think You Can Dance", "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels", "The Girls Next Door" re-runs, and "Big Love".
8. Wait for thighs to spread and become jiggly. Fold in a workout plateau. Wait for thighs to double.
And there you have it.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
V to the IR G to the izzO
First, let me reach out to all you Caps and Cap-Cuspers by saying my husband is a Cap. And yes he is a goat to the extreme of goatiness. Sometimes I catch him munching on my clothes and have to give his horns a tweak. So I am a Virgo surrounded by Capricorns. This is ok. You all could be a bunch of Areses (heehee).
I looked a couple of places for Virgo info. The info I gleaned from my exhaustive 0.25 hours of research yielded the following statements.
Virgo is said to rule the abdominal region, large and small intestines, spleen, solar plexus, lower lobes of the liver, pancreas, portal veins, umbilicus, hands, nails, and carpal bones.
Anybody need their solar plexus put back in line? How ‘bout your portal veins? If one of your intestines is not performing up to par I will whip that motherlovin’ wiggly squiggly piece of innertube into shape, you just say the word.
Virgo is a barren sign - Virgo Hath the name of the barren Signe, for Mayds of themselves produce no Births &c.
Hellloooo. Anybody heard of the VIRGIN Mary? Mayds of themselves may produce no Births &c, but just provide for them a convenient mote of dust or beam of sunlight and they are all set to go with bringing forth Messiahs, Holy Figures, Lords &c.
Physically, individuals born under the sign of Virgo supposedly tend to have a graceful figure, a roundish head, full and delicately-shaped lips, perfect teeth, a clear complexion, large and clear eyes, small, symmetrical, and refined features, a high forehead, a thin nose, coarsely-textured hair, long arms and thin eyebrows.
Wow. It’s like they described me to a tee. Especially that part about the roundish head. I often feel a little out of place with my round head. Someday I may have corrective surgery so I can be square headed like the rest of humanity.
Virgos are very critical of their own photographs and fussy in the extreme about how they look, both on film and in person.
Got it. On the nose.
I looked a couple of places for Virgo info. The info I gleaned from my exhaustive 0.25 hours of research yielded the following statements.
Virgo is said to rule the abdominal region, large and small intestines, spleen, solar plexus, lower lobes of the liver, pancreas, portal veins, umbilicus, hands, nails, and carpal bones.
Anybody need their solar plexus put back in line? How ‘bout your portal veins? If one of your intestines is not performing up to par I will whip that motherlovin’ wiggly squiggly piece of innertube into shape, you just say the word.
Virgo is a barren sign - Virgo Hath the name of the barren Signe, for Mayds of themselves produce no Births &c.
Hellloooo. Anybody heard of the VIRGIN Mary? Mayds of themselves may produce no Births &c, but just provide for them a convenient mote of dust or beam of sunlight and they are all set to go with bringing forth Messiahs, Holy Figures, Lords &c.
Physically, individuals born under the sign of Virgo supposedly tend to have a graceful figure, a roundish head, full and delicately-shaped lips, perfect teeth, a clear complexion, large and clear eyes, small, symmetrical, and refined features, a high forehead, a thin nose, coarsely-textured hair, long arms and thin eyebrows.
Wow. It’s like they described me to a tee. Especially that part about the roundish head. I often feel a little out of place with my round head. Someday I may have corrective surgery so I can be square headed like the rest of humanity.
Virgos are very critical of their own photographs and fussy in the extreme about how they look, both on film and in person.
Got it. On the nose.
Many astrologers who study the powerful asteroid Chiron, known as "the wounded healer", believe it has the best claim upon the rulership of Virgo.
I’m going to get a new bumper sticker – kind of like those “my master is a Jewish carpenter” ones – only it will say “My master is an asteroid.” I bet it catches on.
When they're annoyed by vulgarity, stupidity or carelessness, Virgos can suddenly become cranky, irritable, scolding and nervous.
Better watch the spelling on those comments people. I will SCOLD your ass for some careless spelling.
A fresh breeze blows through the dream of a Virgo, sweeping it free of wisps of wild, inaccurate fancies. . . Virginian good fortune is always followed by five kinds of loneliness*FIVE KINDS PEOPLE*, and duty's clarion call is never still within these gentle hearts. Don't forget that the shy, wistful smile of Virgo hides a secret or two *I GOT SECRETS, YO*. Both the quicksilver of Mercury and the distant thunder of Vulcan run through his quiet blood *I GOT "DISTANT THUNDER" AND I GOT "QUIET" - HOW I DO THAT IS A SECRET HIDDEN BEHIND MY WISTFUL SMILE*. . . Underneath his serious manner lies the alluring aura of the Virgin-purity of thought and purpose, symbolized by the Virgo hyacinth. Once you've known the fragrance of this Easter flower, you're never quite free of its spell*BE NICE OR I WILL USE MY MAGIC POWERS TO MAKE YOU MY SLAVE*. It returns each spring to haunt the memory. Virgo has its own, secret way of making the heart remember.
Sniff.
Peace and Love to you Caps, and everyone else in the starry sky! G Love
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
I Wonder How Much of an Aquarian I Really Am?
I went to the same site that super jane did because I figured it was only fair to use the same characteristics to compare myself. Yes, an Aquarian is posting after two Capricorns and the site does tell me that Caps and Aqua girls do not make good love matches. Which is a huge relief because, well, I can't have my friends going around and kissing me all the time. My husband would not appreciate that.
To keep this post shorter than 400 paragraphs, I am just going to use the characteristics they've listed at the top of the page here. You can read all about the Aquarius sign in-depth if you like below the list.
The Good
1. Friendly and humanitarian - I would like to think that I am friendly and a humanitarian. I like to make the people around me happy and I think that I do my part to try and help out around the world.
2. Honest and loyal - I would definitely agree with this. I cannot lie to save my life and honesty is something I value very much. Loyal is a word that I think describes me as well. I am loyal to a fault and refuse to give up on people.
3. Original and inventive - I know that my husband would definitely say that I am an original! I would like to think that I stand out in a crowd. I typically don't mind what other people think of me. Inventive is one word that I am going to hold judgment on. I'm not sure that I'm inventive per se, but I am definitely creative. I think that counts.
4. Independent and intellectual - Absolutely. I am fiercely independent and it is the one thing I've had the toughest time giving up. I like to be on my own, do things for myself, and I don't need anyone else's help, thankyouverymuch. I'd like to think that I am intellectual, but I don't want to sound like a snob, do I?
The Bad
1. Intractable and contrary - Hi, my name is Wicked M and I am intractable; otherwise known as stubborn. I am definitely a stubborn girl and I have no idea how to control it. I want to be right, I am right, and I am not backing down. It's my way or the highway! You get the idea. I think the author of the website meant for intractable and contrary to be synonyms. I'm going with that because some of the definitions online for contrary aren't very nice (see: hostile). Yikes!
2. Perverse and unpredictable - I'm a little confused on this one. I am definitely not perverse in the creepy sense of the word. Perverse typically means disobedient as well. This is one thing I am not. I am definitely an obedient person. I love rules, love following the rules, love being the good girl. Unpredictable is also not a word I would use to describe myself. At all. You would never have found me being the one to instigate trouble back in college because I wasn't unpredictable. I was too busy following the rules.
3. Unemotional and detached - Wrong again, website. I am one of the most emotional people that there ever was. Hi, sobbing down the aisle at my wedding? I cried at pizza last week because my husband was gone. Detached is also not a word that describes me. At all. In fact, I'd say I err on the side of being too attached to my emotions. You'll never find me being stoic in a situation where tears are a possibility. I'll always cry.
I think part of the reason that my characteristics are so close to the Capricorns that have posted before me is that I am right on the cusp of Capricorn/Aquarius. So, I've got a little bit of that in me too. I think we are all pretty interesting, no matter what astrological sign we were born under.
To keep this post shorter than 400 paragraphs, I am just going to use the characteristics they've listed at the top of the page here. You can read all about the Aquarius sign in-depth if you like below the list.
The Good
1. Friendly and humanitarian - I would like to think that I am friendly and a humanitarian. I like to make the people around me happy and I think that I do my part to try and help out around the world.
2. Honest and loyal - I would definitely agree with this. I cannot lie to save my life and honesty is something I value very much. Loyal is a word that I think describes me as well. I am loyal to a fault and refuse to give up on people.
3. Original and inventive - I know that my husband would definitely say that I am an original! I would like to think that I stand out in a crowd. I typically don't mind what other people think of me. Inventive is one word that I am going to hold judgment on. I'm not sure that I'm inventive per se, but I am definitely creative. I think that counts.
4. Independent and intellectual - Absolutely. I am fiercely independent and it is the one thing I've had the toughest time giving up. I like to be on my own, do things for myself, and I don't need anyone else's help, thankyouverymuch. I'd like to think that I am intellectual, but I don't want to sound like a snob, do I?
The Bad
1. Intractable and contrary - Hi, my name is Wicked M and I am intractable; otherwise known as stubborn. I am definitely a stubborn girl and I have no idea how to control it. I want to be right, I am right, and I am not backing down. It's my way or the highway! You get the idea. I think the author of the website meant for intractable and contrary to be synonyms. I'm going with that because some of the definitions online for contrary aren't very nice (see: hostile). Yikes!
2. Perverse and unpredictable - I'm a little confused on this one. I am definitely not perverse in the creepy sense of the word. Perverse typically means disobedient as well. This is one thing I am not. I am definitely an obedient person. I love rules, love following the rules, love being the good girl. Unpredictable is also not a word I would use to describe myself. At all. You would never have found me being the one to instigate trouble back in college because I wasn't unpredictable. I was too busy following the rules.
3. Unemotional and detached - Wrong again, website. I am one of the most emotional people that there ever was. Hi, sobbing down the aisle at my wedding? I cried at pizza last week because my husband was gone. Detached is also not a word that describes me. At all. In fact, I'd say I err on the side of being too attached to my emotions. You'll never find me being stoic in a situation where tears are a possibility. I'll always cry.
I think part of the reason that my characteristics are so close to the Capricorns that have posted before me is that I am right on the cusp of Capricorn/Aquarius. So, I've got a little bit of that in me too. I think we are all pretty interesting, no matter what astrological sign we were born under.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I Wonder How Goat-y I Really Am?
Like Super Jane, you’re looking at a stone-cold Cap. I’m not much of a “Mercury is in retrograde with the ascent of Sagittarius, and my rising planet is washed in one of the water signs” gal, but I do know the signs of my family and closest friends and how akin to those signs they are. So what about me? Do I think I fit the shaggy, rock-climbing, garbage-munching mold?
I love me the heck out of some sweet and sassy zodiac tiles: they crack me up and I think that when I get really evil or angry (when my “devil horns” come out, as Wicked M and I like to say), I look a lot like that sassy goat—without the blingy bell. Let’s examine these two sides of the Cap coin, shall we?
Sweet: the three listed items I feel most aptly describe me are *canny, *steadfast, and *high standards. I think I’m pretty quick on my feet and am a good listener, and those two things make me canny. I’m nothing if not loyal, even when it’s obvious I need to let something/someone go and move on with my life … steadfast is me. I have sometimes impossibly high standards, especially when it comes to my interpersonal relationships and how I think people should behave. And these three things lead right into …
Sassy: I can often cling to those three sweet things and be too tenacious with them, making me *insatiable, * rigid, and *over-critical. OK, so “canny” and “insatiable” aren’t really related, but Super Jane said we Goats are supposed to be good at math, not synonyms. What happens when you’re unmovable, when you are so set in your ways you couldn’t possibly lean toward another place or idea? Yup, you get rigid. And the high standards that serve as my internal compass can vibrate at such a high frequency that I turn all judgey, even when I pretend not to be so.
I am a Capricorn through and through … I guess I just have to remember to shoot for the sweet tile more often than the sassy. But every once in a while, it’s good to be "simply irresistible"!
I love me the heck out of some sweet and sassy zodiac tiles: they crack me up and I think that when I get really evil or angry (when my “devil horns” come out, as Wicked M and I like to say), I look a lot like that sassy goat—without the blingy bell. Let’s examine these two sides of the Cap coin, shall we?
Sweet: the three listed items I feel most aptly describe me are *canny, *steadfast, and *high standards. I think I’m pretty quick on my feet and am a good listener, and those two things make me canny. I’m nothing if not loyal, even when it’s obvious I need to let something/someone go and move on with my life … steadfast is me. I have sometimes impossibly high standards, especially when it comes to my interpersonal relationships and how I think people should behave. And these three things lead right into …
Sassy: I can often cling to those three sweet things and be too tenacious with them, making me *insatiable, * rigid, and *over-critical. OK, so “canny” and “insatiable” aren’t really related, but Super Jane said we Goats are supposed to be good at math, not synonyms. What happens when you’re unmovable, when you are so set in your ways you couldn’t possibly lean toward another place or idea? Yup, you get rigid. And the high standards that serve as my internal compass can vibrate at such a high frequency that I turn all judgey, even when I pretend not to be so.
I am a Capricorn through and through … I guess I just have to remember to shoot for the sweet tile more often than the sassy. But every once in a while, it’s good to be "simply irresistible"!
Monday, July 23, 2007
i wonder how closely my personality matches my astrological sign?
i was born in january which makes me a capricorn. i've always heard that capricorns are supposed to be stubborn and demanding, which suits me perfectly. i've never really looked up the traits of a capricorn though until now and i was shocked at how closely the long, detailed description fit me. the description itself was 8 paragraphs long, so i'll save you the length and hit on the highlights. and if you are really curious to know how i am, you can check out the full report at http://www.astrology-online.com/capricrn.htm . most everything listed there fits me to a 't.'
*stable and serious -- i love stability and am fairly serious. i love to have a good time though, so i wouldn't say that i am incredibly serious. i guess this depends on where the adjective is applied. with my family and friends, i like to have fun. i like to act goofy and make jokes (jokes that are seldom funny. i'm a *terrible* joke teller.), but at work, i'm all business. sure, i can smart off now and again in a meeting, but i'm usually a bit more serious than most.
*independent, confident, strong willed -- independent? that i am. i will do things for myself and by myself, thankyouverymuch. i hate to accept help from anyone, be it with something mentally challenging or physcially challenging. and i would much rather do everything on my own anyway because i know that i will do it right. i don't want to give a project to someone else because i know i'll end up redoing it to suit my taste. i have a tough time with teamwork. and i think those statements just gave evidence of the next couple of traits. i am confident in myself (although i sometimes lack confidence in social setting which i'm not sure anyone who knows me in real would would ever believe) and incredibly strong willed. i hate to give up or give in and will not do so until i think all avenues of success have been exhausted.
*unemotional -- *buzzer sounds* sorry, folks, but i am probably one of the most emotional gals you'll ever meet. i feel emotion and let the world know it. i don't hide my emotions well at all and sometimes this gets me in trouble. and, i hate to admit it, but when i hear of incredibly sad situations, i have to remove myself and ignore it. isn't that terrible? i tell my friend who is a pediatric nurse and works with very sick little boys and girls that i am so thankful for people like her because i would never be able to do it. i would much rather not even think about sad situations because i just get so upset and depressed. so, i guess this specific trait does not fit me at all!
*respect discipline and authority -- yes, yes, yes. i love rules and am a rule follower to a fault. heck, i usually only go 5 mph over the speed limit because that's the rule. i love rules. i love setting them. i love keeping them. i love order and all that rules and discipline bring with it!
*economical -- i admit it. i'm a tightwad. but maybe i should start saying that i'm economical instead since that sounds better. i like money and i like keeping it in a bank. i hate to part with it and will only purchase something if the money is there. i cannot stand credit cards and i always keep a $0 balance on it at the end of the month. every morning after i check my email, i look at my bank account online to see what checks had cashed overnight and where i stand financially. i am obsessive about contributing to my 401(k) and love receiving my quarterly statements to see how much my nest egg has grown.
*subtle intellect -- i believe that i am intellectual, but i'm not sure if i'm naturally smart or whether my drive to be the best makes me so. unfortunately, i was not one of those types who never had to study in high school. i studied alright and i busted my tail to make sure that i graduated in the top 10% of my class (my official rank was 8/180-something). i didn't necessarily want to take physics and calculus, but i did because i didn't want to be one step behind my peers. i'm stubborn as all get out and couldn't bear the thought of others excelling while i sat on the sidelines. i'm not a huge fan of reading which is what most smart people like to do in their spare time (ie. g love and wicked m and i'm sure mso rin falls in this category too). i do read 'newsweek' and watch a lot of news to keep up on current events and sound smart in social settings! ;)
*occupations have to do with math or money -- HA! this cracks me up because i work in a financial aid office at a university. obviously, this is right on the money... (pun intended.)
and now you know a little more about super jane. gosh, i hope you still like me!
Friday, July 20, 2007
I Wonder How I'll Feel When I Finish HP7?
I love Schmitty Cat (even though I've never met her), but she can't tell time. She was supposed to grace us with her post yesterday. Today is another Free-for-All Friday. Happy birthday to The Boy!
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Everybody and his dog wants to know how it will end, if Harry will die in a to-the-death duel with Voldemort, whether or not Ron & Hermione will just shut up and kiss already!, if Snape was a Death Eater the whole time, and what the final word of the book is.
What I wonder is: what kind of emotional wreck will I be when I close the back cover for the first time? How will I handle finally knowing the fate of my beloved Hogwarts chums?
I plunged nose-first into the series the summer after I graduated from college. Pottermania hadn’t yet swept the country the way it did by the time HP3 was published Stateside—only HP1 and HP2 had been released when I strode purposefully into the MC Public Library and found it available to check out (I had to get my name on the waiting list for HP2 b/c at least one other person in Mule Town apparently read Newsweek, but I only had to wait two days).
I was in love from the first chapter. Having been a toddler enthralled with the story of Cinderella and later, the heroines of Frances Hodgson Burnett, I was predisposed to adore this skinny little four-eyed orphan with guardians who failed to see his specialness and treated him horridly.
The Boy and I met and started dating just before HP4 was published, and we spent many a nerdy date night snuggled up while I read to him, voices and all (take that, Jim Dale!). Since HP4’s release, my ritual has been to preorder the book, devour it privately, and then begin asking The Boy “Are you ready for me to read Harry Potter?” incessantly until he feels he’s mentally and emotionally prepared.
And then there’s nothing in our lives until that book’s been read aloud: on the couch in the minutes before we leave for work, on the back porch in the evenings, in the car on any trip longer than five minutes. When we first began, I rationed the chapters and treated them more like bite-sized bedtime stories, but the more the story deepened and the more exciting the adventures (man, JK can write a cliffhanger chapter ending like nobody’s business!), I had to read more than one chapter at a time. I read HP6 aloud over two weekend car trips but saved the last few chapters for the privacy of our home so The Boy could be appropriately upset. Then I got mad and we had a fight when he didn’t get upset enough. (No, I don’t dress up when I go see the movies. But I do have to see them within 48 hours of their release.)
So I wonder what will happen to me when there’s no more new. No more adventures to anticipate. The story will be ended. I’ll never again have the first-time shivers of being with Harry when ______________ happens. I wonder if I’ll cry (I’ve shed many a tear for many a character in Harry’s world, and not just sad tears) or if I’ll be in shock. I wonder how often I’ll laugh and how many times I’ll yell “Are you serious?” at the page. I wonder how many hours I’ll be immersed in what The Boy calls my “[maiden name] girl reading fog” (my mom and sister Kat do it, too) where I’m not cognizant of a single thing happening outside of the text in my hands. I can’t imagine I won’t be satisfied—I’ve loved every single thing about every single book so far. I am worried about Harry and I have theories about what everything means so far and I talk to The Boy and Kat about the characters like they’re real people in true mortal peril. But I want JK to tell her story her way, and I just feel blessed that I get to bask in her genius. So no OTB (that’s ‘off-track betting,’ not Wicked M’s favorite restaurant) for me—I’d rather save my money for the Oscar pool.
****************************************************
Everybody and his dog wants to know how it will end, if Harry will die in a to-the-death duel with Voldemort, whether or not Ron & Hermione will just shut up and kiss already!, if Snape was a Death Eater the whole time, and what the final word of the book is.
What I wonder is: what kind of emotional wreck will I be when I close the back cover for the first time? How will I handle finally knowing the fate of my beloved Hogwarts chums?
I plunged nose-first into the series the summer after I graduated from college. Pottermania hadn’t yet swept the country the way it did by the time HP3 was published Stateside—only HP1 and HP2 had been released when I strode purposefully into the MC Public Library and found it available to check out (I had to get my name on the waiting list for HP2 b/c at least one other person in Mule Town apparently read Newsweek, but I only had to wait two days).
I was in love from the first chapter. Having been a toddler enthralled with the story of Cinderella and later, the heroines of Frances Hodgson Burnett, I was predisposed to adore this skinny little four-eyed orphan with guardians who failed to see his specialness and treated him horridly.
The Boy and I met and started dating just before HP4 was published, and we spent many a nerdy date night snuggled up while I read to him, voices and all (take that, Jim Dale!). Since HP4’s release, my ritual has been to preorder the book, devour it privately, and then begin asking The Boy “Are you ready for me to read Harry Potter?” incessantly until he feels he’s mentally and emotionally prepared.
And then there’s nothing in our lives until that book’s been read aloud: on the couch in the minutes before we leave for work, on the back porch in the evenings, in the car on any trip longer than five minutes. When we first began, I rationed the chapters and treated them more like bite-sized bedtime stories, but the more the story deepened and the more exciting the adventures (man, JK can write a cliffhanger chapter ending like nobody’s business!), I had to read more than one chapter at a time. I read HP6 aloud over two weekend car trips but saved the last few chapters for the privacy of our home so The Boy could be appropriately upset. Then I got mad and we had a fight when he didn’t get upset enough. (No, I don’t dress up when I go see the movies. But I do have to see them within 48 hours of their release.)
So I wonder what will happen to me when there’s no more new. No more adventures to anticipate. The story will be ended. I’ll never again have the first-time shivers of being with Harry when ______________ happens. I wonder if I’ll cry (I’ve shed many a tear for many a character in Harry’s world, and not just sad tears) or if I’ll be in shock. I wonder how often I’ll laugh and how many times I’ll yell “Are you serious?” at the page. I wonder how many hours I’ll be immersed in what The Boy calls my “[maiden name] girl reading fog” (my mom and sister Kat do it, too) where I’m not cognizant of a single thing happening outside of the text in my hands. I can’t imagine I won’t be satisfied—I’ve loved every single thing about every single book so far. I am worried about Harry and I have theories about what everything means so far and I talk to The Boy and Kat about the characters like they’re real people in true mortal peril. But I want JK to tell her story her way, and I just feel blessed that I get to bask in her genius. So no OTB (that’s ‘off-track betting,’ not Wicked M’s favorite restaurant) for me—I’d rather save my money for the Oscar pool.
Hello Humans
by guest blogger, Schmitty Cat. Translation by the short human.
Meow mrow mow meow meeeeeow.
I love my humans.
Meow mrrrrow mew meow mowww.
Especially the tall one. He is at the place where I abide for many hours of the day.
. . . translation only from this point out. . .
He speaks to me in human talk very often. He and I spend much time together. I help him with his work. When I see the little buttons that his fingers press when he is working, I can tell that he would like to have them killed. So I use my claws and teeth and pull them up, and give them to him. This is my duty to my humans. When I leave the little button on the floor for them to find, they call my name loudly, and I know that they are pleased.
The humans talk all day. I can tell when they talk to me. Their voices become like singing, very high. Or sometimes their voices are sharp. This is what I like best, when they are sharp at me. To make them talk sharp to me, I can do three things. I can chew on the short human’s long tasty green things. I can put my head or paws through the things that cover the windows. They are stiff and have many long slats, and they make a satisfying noise when I push on them, especially when it is nighttime and the humans have lain down and the place where I abide is quiet. And I can scratch the pillowy big things that are all over the humans’ house. Any time I do this, the humans call my name and clap their hands sharply, and then I know that they are pleased.
The short human talks to me very many times. I do not listen to her words, unless they are “Bella” (the name given to me by my humans), or “treat” (this word means I am about to eat), or “outside” (which is my favorite word of all, because it means I will go into the great wide space full of smells and places to hide, and I will hunt small creatures and give them to my humans, and then I will know that they are pleased).
Sometimes when the humans talk to me, I am trying to sleep, and I choose not to hear them. Sometimes, though, I am awake. Although I have very many other things to do, such as investigating the bucket full of smelly things that the humans keep under the kitchen sink; or hunting the tiny black many-legged creatures that walk through the place where I abide; or hiding myself under the pillows on the place where the humans lie at night; although I have all of these things and more to do, I know that talking back to the humans is what they want most of all. Because they provide me with food to eat, and turn on the thing that pours water when I want to drink, and mostly because I love my humans, sometimes I will stop doing the things I must do and sit in one place and talk with them. This makes their voices sing very high, which I find painful to my ears. So I only do this for a few moments, and then I move close to my humans and step on their feet and chew on their long paws, because I know this will make their voices sharpen, and that will show that they are pleased.
I have seen a moth. I must go. My human makes a sound when I chase moths, I think it is called laughing. This shows she is pleased with my hunting skills. All that I do is to please my humans. That is why I have agreed to share these thoughts with you today. Now that I have pleased my short human, she will lift me up so that I may catch the moth and eat it. All is good and pleasing in the place where I abide. Mrow meow moooww mrow. – X ----- (“Bella”)
Meow mrow mow meow meeeeeow.
I love my humans.
Meow mrrrrow mew meow mowww.
Especially the tall one. He is at the place where I abide for many hours of the day.
. . . translation only from this point out. . .
He speaks to me in human talk very often. He and I spend much time together. I help him with his work. When I see the little buttons that his fingers press when he is working, I can tell that he would like to have them killed. So I use my claws and teeth and pull them up, and give them to him. This is my duty to my humans. When I leave the little button on the floor for them to find, they call my name loudly, and I know that they are pleased.
The humans talk all day. I can tell when they talk to me. Their voices become like singing, very high. Or sometimes their voices are sharp. This is what I like best, when they are sharp at me. To make them talk sharp to me, I can do three things. I can chew on the short human’s long tasty green things. I can put my head or paws through the things that cover the windows. They are stiff and have many long slats, and they make a satisfying noise when I push on them, especially when it is nighttime and the humans have lain down and the place where I abide is quiet. And I can scratch the pillowy big things that are all over the humans’ house. Any time I do this, the humans call my name and clap their hands sharply, and then I know that they are pleased.
The short human talks to me very many times. I do not listen to her words, unless they are “Bella” (the name given to me by my humans), or “treat” (this word means I am about to eat), or “outside” (which is my favorite word of all, because it means I will go into the great wide space full of smells and places to hide, and I will hunt small creatures and give them to my humans, and then I will know that they are pleased).
Sometimes when the humans talk to me, I am trying to sleep, and I choose not to hear them. Sometimes, though, I am awake. Although I have very many other things to do, such as investigating the bucket full of smelly things that the humans keep under the kitchen sink; or hunting the tiny black many-legged creatures that walk through the place where I abide; or hiding myself under the pillows on the place where the humans lie at night; although I have all of these things and more to do, I know that talking back to the humans is what they want most of all. Because they provide me with food to eat, and turn on the thing that pours water when I want to drink, and mostly because I love my humans, sometimes I will stop doing the things I must do and sit in one place and talk with them. This makes their voices sing very high, which I find painful to my ears. So I only do this for a few moments, and then I move close to my humans and step on their feet and chew on their long paws, because I know this will make their voices sharpen, and that will show that they are pleased.
I have seen a moth. I must go. My human makes a sound when I chase moths, I think it is called laughing. This shows she is pleased with my hunting skills. All that I do is to please my humans. That is why I have agreed to share these thoughts with you today. Now that I have pleased my short human, she will lift me up so that I may catch the moth and eat it. All is good and pleasing in the place where I abide. Mrow meow moooww mrow. – X ----- (“Bella”)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
I Wonder What Wondercat Is Thinking?
I highly doubt that Wondercat is really ever thinking anything other than, "Feed me NOW," but I'll go with this.
I've known Wondercat for almost ten years now and this is one clever cat. There are times when I think he knows exactly what we are talking about or understands our body language perfectly. Other times, I think he just ignores us. He is at least smart enough to know when to understand us and when to ignore us. Most times, though, he probably just thinks we're major idiots.
Wondercat and I lived by ourselves for years, so we've developed an interesting bond. We can communicate very easily and I do feel like he understands me most of the time. He even does the cute cock of the head when I say something that he understands and likes. Since Superman moved in, Wondercat has had to adapt somewhat. Superman isn't as much of a sucker as I am and he even suggested a diet for Wondercat. I imagine that Wondercat, upon hearing of this plan, immediately thought, "This guy has got to go." Now the three of us have settled into an easy routine and I think his first thought upon encountering either of us at any time is, "You are my minions. Feed me immediately. And don't touch me while I'm eating."
I know that Wondercat understands when we whistle as that is his signal for treats. He immediately bolts to the kitchen and I just know he is thinking, "YES. NOW. MORE." I know that Wondercat understands when we tell him no or that he is a bad cat and I can imagine that his thoughts are along the line of, "Um, what?? I'm a cat and I am allowed to do whatever I want. Fine. I'll run away, but I'm totally coming back later to continue with my mischief."
Wondercat and I also have our own special cat language. I meow at him and he usually meows back. I don't know why he does it, but it can sometimes really sound like we are having a conversation. I can imagine that for him that when I meow at him I sound like ridiculous. He's probably humoring me. He doesn't do cat talk with Superman or anyone else either. During those conversations he is probably thinking, "My cat parent/mama is very silly, but I am going to keep doing this because it makes me look cute and it will hopefully be followed by a whistle in which I will receive a bounty of treats. MEOW."
I've known Wondercat for almost ten years now and this is one clever cat. There are times when I think he knows exactly what we are talking about or understands our body language perfectly. Other times, I think he just ignores us. He is at least smart enough to know when to understand us and when to ignore us. Most times, though, he probably just thinks we're major idiots.
Wondercat and I lived by ourselves for years, so we've developed an interesting bond. We can communicate very easily and I do feel like he understands me most of the time. He even does the cute cock of the head when I say something that he understands and likes. Since Superman moved in, Wondercat has had to adapt somewhat. Superman isn't as much of a sucker as I am and he even suggested a diet for Wondercat. I imagine that Wondercat, upon hearing of this plan, immediately thought, "This guy has got to go." Now the three of us have settled into an easy routine and I think his first thought upon encountering either of us at any time is, "You are my minions. Feed me immediately. And don't touch me while I'm eating."
I know that Wondercat understands when we whistle as that is his signal for treats. He immediately bolts to the kitchen and I just know he is thinking, "YES. NOW. MORE." I know that Wondercat understands when we tell him no or that he is a bad cat and I can imagine that his thoughts are along the line of, "Um, what?? I'm a cat and I am allowed to do whatever I want. Fine. I'll run away, but I'm totally coming back later to continue with my mischief."
Wondercat and I also have our own special cat language. I meow at him and he usually meows back. I don't know why he does it, but it can sometimes really sound like we are having a conversation. I can imagine that for him that when I meow at him I sound like ridiculous. He's probably humoring me. He doesn't do cat talk with Superman or anyone else either. During those conversations he is probably thinking, "My cat parent/mama is very silly, but I am going to keep doing this because it makes me look cute and it will hopefully be followed by a whistle in which I will receive a bounty of treats. MEOW."
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Sorry to Bring the Party Down ...
... but I've been dreading this Wonder, and I knew it was coming. I took the day off work yesterday, and actually wondered (hee hee) while I was out and about if "What do our pets think?" would be this week's topic. I wrote the following at the beginning of July, but hadn't really found an appropriate time to post it. So here goes:
On June 28, The Boy and I had to make that hardest of decisions about one of our beloved meow-meows, P. He became terminally ill quite suddenly (shockingly so) and although I know it was the right thing to do, it was still awful. I miss P terribly.
He was ten years old, black with yellow eyes. He wore a red collar and was small and wily and had a big personality. He was The Boy's before I came into their lives, but P quickly decided that I was his and J was The Boy's. He was fond of head-butting my hands when he wanted into my lap while I was reading magazines. He was also fond of food, and went to great lengths to wake me up whenever it was he felt he should be given breakfast. He'd either put his cold little kitty nose on my closed eyelid (as though he were sniffing to see how close my eyes were to opening) or ever-so-gently put one paw, claws-out, on my lower lip and pat me.
I’d appreciate it if you took a moment today to give your favorite pets (animal or otherwise) an extra hug and kiss and think of P when you do. But don’t worry about us too much: J will, no doubt, rise to the occasion of bossing The Boy and me around all by himself.
On June 28, The Boy and I had to make that hardest of decisions about one of our beloved meow-meows, P. He became terminally ill quite suddenly (shockingly so) and although I know it was the right thing to do, it was still awful. I miss P terribly.
He was ten years old, black with yellow eyes. He wore a red collar and was small and wily and had a big personality. He was The Boy's before I came into their lives, but P quickly decided that I was his and J was The Boy's. He was fond of head-butting my hands when he wanted into my lap while I was reading magazines. He was also fond of food, and went to great lengths to wake me up whenever it was he felt he should be given breakfast. He'd either put his cold little kitty nose on my closed eyelid (as though he were sniffing to see how close my eyes were to opening) or ever-so-gently put one paw, claws-out, on my lower lip and pat me.
I’d appreciate it if you took a moment today to give your favorite pets (animal or otherwise) an extra hug and kiss and think of P when you do. But don’t worry about us too much: J will, no doubt, rise to the occasion of bossing The Boy and me around all by himself.
Monday, July 16, 2007
i wonder what my pet is thinking when i talk to him/her.
the pets in my home are as follows:
-hank, an all black cat who was my birthday present some 7 years ago.
-a tank full of nameless fish
-zeke, our brand spanking new puppy dog
for this week's topic, i think i'll begin with the oldest pet and work my way down. soooo....let's start with hanky. it's funny how he was *my* gift, but became jas's cat almost instantly. he's a fine cat. i have no issues with him (other than the time he dropped a 1/2 dead mouse on my living room floor and it began scurrying about while i screamed bloody murder at the top of my lungs), but i wouldn't say we're close exactly. he'll walk by and i'll pet him and sometimes love on him, but he's not a real lovey-dovey cat. he doesn't interact with me much and i'm okay with that. he's long and skinny and has brown eyes. he's a predator and enjoys chasing rabbits and proudly displays his catch for us to appreciate on the back deck. thoughtful, isn't he? hanky is fiesty and my favorite (enter sarcasm here) time of interaction with him is when i'm sound asleep. sometimes, i'll sleep with my feet outside of the blankets and as i'm enjoying my visit to dreamland, when he'll bat at my foot with his paw -- claws out -- promptly scaring the holy heck out of me.
i'd almost bet that most times when i talk to hank, he's thinking, "come on, lady. please stop boring me with all of this talk. i have some serious business to attend to. word on the street is that the rabbit at the house a few doors down had a new batch of babes. quick! quick! think of a way to wriggle from her arms. ah, yes, bat her on the cheek with my claws. that does the trick every time." as you can see, he has way better things to do than love on little, ole me.
onto the tank of nameless fish. okay, i'm done. i never ever interact with them and only occasionally do i feed them. plus, i refuse to believe that they are even smart enough to think anything at all, much less carry on a conversation.
our newest addition is next - zeke. we just got him on saturday at around 5:00pm, so we've not had a full 48 hrs with this fine, young man. he's a mutt, but a beautiful one. he's golden in color and has feet and ears that he hasn't grown into yet. he's a sweet thing and enjoys being held and loved on. i've had lots of conversations with zeke in the past day or so. most of them involve explaining how to potty and poop outside of the house as opposed to on my living room or bedroom floors. other times, i'll ask him something like, 'hey, buddy! whatcha' doin'?' unfortunately, at this point, i think zeke hears me talk like the teacher on the peanuts cartoon, "whah, whah, whah..." he has wonderful expressions with his eyes, so it's a sure bet that he's thinking as he cocks his head to the side, "just smile and nod. just smile and nod. sure, uh, huh. okay, lady."
there are a few shimmers of hope though when something i'll say seems to break through to him. like this morning, for example. he started to sniff around on the living room floor, so i said, "zeke! do you have to go potty? do you need to go outside, boy?" he looked at me and thought, "okay, i know this one...think, zeke, think...potty...outside. oh! oh! oh! i know! pick me! i know the answer to this one!" he promptly ran to the back door and i let him out. i'm loving the breakthroughs - and so is my carpet. let's keep those lines of communication open!
-hank, an all black cat who was my birthday present some 7 years ago.
-a tank full of nameless fish
-zeke, our brand spanking new puppy dog
for this week's topic, i think i'll begin with the oldest pet and work my way down. soooo....let's start with hanky. it's funny how he was *my* gift, but became jas's cat almost instantly. he's a fine cat. i have no issues with him (other than the time he dropped a 1/2 dead mouse on my living room floor and it began scurrying about while i screamed bloody murder at the top of my lungs), but i wouldn't say we're close exactly. he'll walk by and i'll pet him and sometimes love on him, but he's not a real lovey-dovey cat. he doesn't interact with me much and i'm okay with that. he's long and skinny and has brown eyes. he's a predator and enjoys chasing rabbits and proudly displays his catch for us to appreciate on the back deck. thoughtful, isn't he? hanky is fiesty and my favorite (enter sarcasm here) time of interaction with him is when i'm sound asleep. sometimes, i'll sleep with my feet outside of the blankets and as i'm enjoying my visit to dreamland, when he'll bat at my foot with his paw -- claws out -- promptly scaring the holy heck out of me.
i'd almost bet that most times when i talk to hank, he's thinking, "come on, lady. please stop boring me with all of this talk. i have some serious business to attend to. word on the street is that the rabbit at the house a few doors down had a new batch of babes. quick! quick! think of a way to wriggle from her arms. ah, yes, bat her on the cheek with my claws. that does the trick every time." as you can see, he has way better things to do than love on little, ole me.
onto the tank of nameless fish. okay, i'm done. i never ever interact with them and only occasionally do i feed them. plus, i refuse to believe that they are even smart enough to think anything at all, much less carry on a conversation.
our newest addition is next - zeke. we just got him on saturday at around 5:00pm, so we've not had a full 48 hrs with this fine, young man. he's a mutt, but a beautiful one. he's golden in color and has feet and ears that he hasn't grown into yet. he's a sweet thing and enjoys being held and loved on. i've had lots of conversations with zeke in the past day or so. most of them involve explaining how to potty and poop outside of the house as opposed to on my living room or bedroom floors. other times, i'll ask him something like, 'hey, buddy! whatcha' doin'?' unfortunately, at this point, i think zeke hears me talk like the teacher on the peanuts cartoon, "whah, whah, whah..." he has wonderful expressions with his eyes, so it's a sure bet that he's thinking as he cocks his head to the side, "just smile and nod. just smile and nod. sure, uh, huh. okay, lady."
there are a few shimmers of hope though when something i'll say seems to break through to him. like this morning, for example. he started to sniff around on the living room floor, so i said, "zeke! do you have to go potty? do you need to go outside, boy?" he looked at me and thought, "okay, i know this one...think, zeke, think...potty...outside. oh! oh! oh! i know! pick me! i know the answer to this one!" he promptly ran to the back door and i let him out. i'm loving the breakthroughs - and so is my carpet. let's keep those lines of communication open!
Friday, July 13, 2007
random wonderings.
i've been thinking about today's entry all week. i find myself wondering about random things throughout each day and decided to start keeping track of them. so, for the 'free for all friday,' here is a peek inside my brain and the many random wonderings that i've had in the past 5 days.
monday:
location: women's restroom at ____ university where i work
setting: last stall
wondering: i wonder why they have directions on the toilet paper holder-thingy that say: pull tissue. tear here? i'm pretty sure that everyone who uses the restroom has some idea as to how the dispenser works. if my 2 year old can figure them out, surely everyone else can. at least i hope so anyway.
location: I-465
setting: in my car, driving home from work
wondering: i wonder why some delivery trucks don't have doors on them. i'd be freaking scared to drive around in a large truck, going 70mph down the highway without a door. does it really cut down on the delivery time? boy, we wouldn't want to lose those precious .763 seconds that it takes to actually open a door to get out of the vehicle. to heck to employee safety - we're all about bottom line around here.
tuesday:
location: my office
setting: at my desk
wondering: i wonder why they stamped the incorrect address on this form if they knew it's incorrect? morons.
*explanation: i had received some forms that needed to be filled out for a state agency. i filled them out and returned them to the address that was stamped on the document itself. the forms were returned to me, so i called to inquire about it. the state agency told me that they moved locations 6 years ago and that the address stamped on the doc was the old address. um, okay. you think they could've either a) updated their docs or b) bought a new stamp. geez, people.
wednesday:
location: local hardware store
setting: in the lumberyard
wondering: i wonder what is possessing this man [who is helping us load supplies for the gates to our fence] to tell us his entire life story? i wonder why people do that to me all the time? maybe i have some sort of presence about me that says, 'oh please. i don't know you and apparently don't have enough troubles for my own life. would you please, please, pretty please share your life story with me and tell me about your nasty divorce and how you just changed jobs and took a pay cut and now have to pay $400/month in child support? please? because i'm dying to know.'
location: my neighborhood driving home from aforementioned hardware store
setting: in my car with hubby and girls
wondering: i wonder who gets to name streets? i like the name of the streets in our neighborhood...they are nice and comfy and homey feeling. i think it would be fun to sit around and think up new street names all day. and get paid for it. i wonder who's lucky enough to have snagged that job. so cool.
thursday:
location: ________ university where i work
setting: just walked though the main doors to the building where my office is located
wondering: oh.......my............gosh............i wonder why my head hurts soooooo bad the absolute second i walk in the door? is it because i know the stress that awaits me? or is there something in the air that i'm allergic to here? seriously, this sucks. i need an advil.
location: my neighborhood
setting: riding my bike home from the pool with the girls in tow in the buggy
wondering: i wonder why on earth people thinks it's okay to wear an *entire bottle of cologne* in a 24 hour period?
*explanation: as we were riding home yesterday from the pool, a man driving on his motorcycle passed us on the road. i kid you not that you could smell his cologne. i wanted to chase him down and say, 'hey buddy, here's the dealy-o, you're killing your brain cells and singeing everyone else's nose hairs with that cologne you've slapped on. someone needs to tell you because it's quite obvious that you aren't dating anyone because she would've told you by now. which is probably why you're still single in the first place. cool it with the cologne because we don't necessarily like to smell you 4 miles away. thank you and have a nice day.'
friday:
location: ______ university where i work
setting: downstairs in the "commons" area by the microwave
wondering: i wonder how men can eat lunch together or sit at the same table and just hang out without ever talking? do they just not sense a little thing we ladies like to call 'awkward silence?' or maybe they sense it but just don't care? yeah, that's probably more like it. they probably just don't care about it...they don't care about much anyway...
=================
and there you have it. a peek into my very random brain and the conversations that i have with myself about random wanderings. happy weekend!
monday:
location: women's restroom at ____ university where i work
setting: last stall
wondering: i wonder why they have directions on the toilet paper holder-thingy that say: pull tissue. tear here? i'm pretty sure that everyone who uses the restroom has some idea as to how the dispenser works. if my 2 year old can figure them out, surely everyone else can. at least i hope so anyway.
location: I-465
setting: in my car, driving home from work
wondering: i wonder why some delivery trucks don't have doors on them. i'd be freaking scared to drive around in a large truck, going 70mph down the highway without a door. does it really cut down on the delivery time? boy, we wouldn't want to lose those precious .763 seconds that it takes to actually open a door to get out of the vehicle. to heck to employee safety - we're all about bottom line around here.
tuesday:
location: my office
setting: at my desk
wondering: i wonder why they stamped the incorrect address on this form if they knew it's incorrect? morons.
*explanation: i had received some forms that needed to be filled out for a state agency. i filled them out and returned them to the address that was stamped on the document itself. the forms were returned to me, so i called to inquire about it. the state agency told me that they moved locations 6 years ago and that the address stamped on the doc was the old address. um, okay. you think they could've either a) updated their docs or b) bought a new stamp. geez, people.
wednesday:
location: local hardware store
setting: in the lumberyard
wondering: i wonder what is possessing this man [who is helping us load supplies for the gates to our fence] to tell us his entire life story? i wonder why people do that to me all the time? maybe i have some sort of presence about me that says, 'oh please. i don't know you and apparently don't have enough troubles for my own life. would you please, please, pretty please share your life story with me and tell me about your nasty divorce and how you just changed jobs and took a pay cut and now have to pay $400/month in child support? please? because i'm dying to know.'
location: my neighborhood driving home from aforementioned hardware store
setting: in my car with hubby and girls
wondering: i wonder who gets to name streets? i like the name of the streets in our neighborhood...they are nice and comfy and homey feeling. i think it would be fun to sit around and think up new street names all day. and get paid for it. i wonder who's lucky enough to have snagged that job. so cool.
thursday:
location: ________ university where i work
setting: just walked though the main doors to the building where my office is located
wondering: oh.......my............gosh............i wonder why my head hurts soooooo bad the absolute second i walk in the door? is it because i know the stress that awaits me? or is there something in the air that i'm allergic to here? seriously, this sucks. i need an advil.
location: my neighborhood
setting: riding my bike home from the pool with the girls in tow in the buggy
wondering: i wonder why on earth people thinks it's okay to wear an *entire bottle of cologne* in a 24 hour period?
*explanation: as we were riding home yesterday from the pool, a man driving on his motorcycle passed us on the road. i kid you not that you could smell his cologne. i wanted to chase him down and say, 'hey buddy, here's the dealy-o, you're killing your brain cells and singeing everyone else's nose hairs with that cologne you've slapped on. someone needs to tell you because it's quite obvious that you aren't dating anyone because she would've told you by now. which is probably why you're still single in the first place. cool it with the cologne because we don't necessarily like to smell you 4 miles away. thank you and have a nice day.'
friday:
location: ______ university where i work
setting: downstairs in the "commons" area by the microwave
wondering: i wonder how men can eat lunch together or sit at the same table and just hang out without ever talking? do they just not sense a little thing we ladies like to call 'awkward silence?' or maybe they sense it but just don't care? yeah, that's probably more like it. they probably just don't care about it...they don't care about much anyway...
=================
and there you have it. a peek into my very random brain and the conversations that i have with myself about random wanderings. happy weekend!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Haven't you always wanted a mon-KEE?
Scene: Small town North Carolina. A tranquil tree-lined street, lots of hills. PATRICK, a young man about 30 years old, is striding purposefully, working up a sweat. GILLIAN, a young (stunningly gorgeous) woman of similar age, is half-walking, half-jogging to keep up.
GILLIAN: So, phew, you feeling this like I am?
PATRICK, blithely: Feeling what?
GILLIAN, mutters: I hate these damn hills.
PATRICK: Look at the fireflies. Those bats are having a great time scooping them up.
GILLIAN: Hmm. Nice.
Contented Silence.
GILLIAN: So my Wonder Woman blog post for tomorrow is supposed to be “What would I do with a million dollars?”
PATRICK: What would you do?
GILLIAN, excited: I’ve been thinking about it all week! Well, first I would pay all our debt. I know you’re not supposed to pre-pay a mortgage or student loans, but the lifting of that psychological burden would be so fantastic, I couldn’t not. So there goes the first quarter of it.
PATRICK: Hmmm.
GILLIAN: And then I would give $50k to each of our siblings. So that’s another quarter mil.
PATRICK: Hmmm.
GILLIAN: So we’ve got half left. Well I’d invest half of that, try to put some stuff away for retirement, buy money market or something.
PATRICK: Ummhmmm.
GILLIAN: This leaves us with the last quarter mil. That’s our fun money. So I’d spend about five grand to replace my entire ratty tatty wardrobe. Then about, oh, say twenty thou on getting a few toys, like a kayak, a mountain bike, an awesome tent, a membership to a pool and a good Speedo suit, some good hiking shoes, a great backpack, a violin and some lessons, maybe pay for an Italian language course. I’d replace our kitchen counter, and buy new exterior doors, replace our broken front deck and do landscaping, get some shutters. That’s probably a good twenty, maybe a bit more.
PATRICK: Yup.
GILLIAN: OK, so then I’d take a hundred grand and travel. Take a year long trip around the world, visiting friends as I get to them. I’d still stay in hostels and stuff, so I could eat and sleep on the cheap. I’d do the Pacific Crest Trail in the West, see friends out there, then hit Canada, Alaska. Scoot on over to Japan, Indonesia, re-visit Australia and hit New Zealand. Do a quick safari in South Africa, then do Egypt and head on up through Europe, making sure not to miss Scandinavia. From there back to the Northeast of the U.S., then down to South America, rattle around in there for a while, before landing back home.
PATRICK: Wow.
GILLIAN: And then we’d have $80k or so left. I’d just leave that in the bank, and the find myself a job I love without worrying about the size of the salary. I’d use the $80k and interest from it to supplement my sorry earnings, and settle back into a pretty normal life.
PATRICK: What about charity?
GILLIAN: Huh?
PATRICK: What about charity? Wouldn’t you give any to charity?
GILLIAN: Uh, NO. My siblings are my charity. Dude, this is supposed to be fun. What would you do with it?
PATRICK: Oh, I’d give it all away. I don’t really need stuff, and I think a little adversity is necessary for a happy life.
GILLIAN, after a stunned pause: I’m up to here with adversity. Me and adversity are breaking up on the day I get a million dollars. Wouldn’t you want to travel at all?
PATRICK: No, not really. I’m feeling more settled now, I’ve sort of seen most of the countries I want to see. No, I might put some away to grow, so we could buy our apartment in Rome when we retire. I’d give the rest away.
GILLIAN, head in hands: Who. Are. You. You are not the man I married. You are officially banned from playing the lottery. Way to ruin my daydream by being all altruistic and noble. Sheesh.
PATRICK, with a Mona Lisa smile: Let’s go home and have a glass of wine.
They exit hand in hand, leaving just the bats and fireflies swooping through the darkening night.
GILLIAN: So, phew, you feeling this like I am?
PATRICK, blithely: Feeling what?
GILLIAN, mutters: I hate these damn hills.
PATRICK: Look at the fireflies. Those bats are having a great time scooping them up.
GILLIAN: Hmm. Nice.
Contented Silence.
GILLIAN: So my Wonder Woman blog post for tomorrow is supposed to be “What would I do with a million dollars?”
PATRICK: What would you do?
GILLIAN, excited: I’ve been thinking about it all week! Well, first I would pay all our debt. I know you’re not supposed to pre-pay a mortgage or student loans, but the lifting of that psychological burden would be so fantastic, I couldn’t not. So there goes the first quarter of it.
PATRICK: Hmmm.
GILLIAN: And then I would give $50k to each of our siblings. So that’s another quarter mil.
PATRICK: Hmmm.
GILLIAN: So we’ve got half left. Well I’d invest half of that, try to put some stuff away for retirement, buy money market or something.
PATRICK: Ummhmmm.
GILLIAN: This leaves us with the last quarter mil. That’s our fun money. So I’d spend about five grand to replace my entire ratty tatty wardrobe. Then about, oh, say twenty thou on getting a few toys, like a kayak, a mountain bike, an awesome tent, a membership to a pool and a good Speedo suit, some good hiking shoes, a great backpack, a violin and some lessons, maybe pay for an Italian language course. I’d replace our kitchen counter, and buy new exterior doors, replace our broken front deck and do landscaping, get some shutters. That’s probably a good twenty, maybe a bit more.
PATRICK: Yup.
GILLIAN: OK, so then I’d take a hundred grand and travel. Take a year long trip around the world, visiting friends as I get to them. I’d still stay in hostels and stuff, so I could eat and sleep on the cheap. I’d do the Pacific Crest Trail in the West, see friends out there, then hit Canada, Alaska. Scoot on over to Japan, Indonesia, re-visit Australia and hit New Zealand. Do a quick safari in South Africa, then do Egypt and head on up through Europe, making sure not to miss Scandinavia. From there back to the Northeast of the U.S., then down to South America, rattle around in there for a while, before landing back home.
PATRICK: Wow.
GILLIAN: And then we’d have $80k or so left. I’d just leave that in the bank, and the find myself a job I love without worrying about the size of the salary. I’d use the $80k and interest from it to supplement my sorry earnings, and settle back into a pretty normal life.
PATRICK: What about charity?
GILLIAN: Huh?
PATRICK: What about charity? Wouldn’t you give any to charity?
GILLIAN: Uh, NO. My siblings are my charity. Dude, this is supposed to be fun. What would you do with it?
PATRICK: Oh, I’d give it all away. I don’t really need stuff, and I think a little adversity is necessary for a happy life.
GILLIAN, after a stunned pause: I’m up to here with adversity. Me and adversity are breaking up on the day I get a million dollars. Wouldn’t you want to travel at all?
PATRICK: No, not really. I’m feeling more settled now, I’ve sort of seen most of the countries I want to see. No, I might put some away to grow, so we could buy our apartment in Rome when we retire. I’d give the rest away.
GILLIAN, head in hands: Who. Are. You. You are not the man I married. You are officially banned from playing the lottery. Way to ruin my daydream by being all altruistic and noble. Sheesh.
PATRICK, with a Mona Lisa smile: Let’s go home and have a glass of wine.
They exit hand in hand, leaving just the bats and fireflies swooping through the darkening night.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
If I Had A Million Dollars...
Okay, so a million dollars isn't really that much money anymore, is it? Sadly, it's the truth. But this is one of my favorite fantasies when I'm having a bad day at work. But I'm greedy, so I'd like to win one of those $50 million lotteries. I'm getting off track here.
First off, I'd give a chunk of it to my brother. He's a financial advisor and is a whiz with money. So, I'd help make him a little bit more rich by giving him my investments. He'd enhance my already amazing portfolio with his brilliance and then maybe my fantasy of $50m would come true!
Then, I'd give some cash to my parents. They deserve it, right?
I'd throw a big party to celebrate my windfall and invite all of my friends from far and wide. It probably doesn't matter where the party is because we would all have so much fun being back together, but I'd like to think that I would want to have everyone in a nice location. So, Hawaii? St. Lucia? Anyplace tropical works for me.
Next, I'd use some of the money to buy a house. I've been a renter for quite a while and it is about time I become an adult and get a mortgage. It would be a lovely custom-built home on some water somewhere. With enough guest rooms for all of my family and friends. There would be a big porch with rocking chairs and a kitchen with marble countertops. Basically, it would be the opposite of the minute apartment I live in now.
Finally, I'd travel. I'd take Superman on a trip to anywhere he wishes. We could visit the far reaches of the world that are only a figment of our imaginations. We'd ride elephants in Asia, we'd kiss koalas in Australia, visit the beaches of South Africa, cruise Alaska...you get the picture.
Oh and one more thing. Unlike MSO Rin, I'd quit my job so fast that it would make the HR guy's head spin. Buh-bye.
First off, I'd give a chunk of it to my brother. He's a financial advisor and is a whiz with money. So, I'd help make him a little bit more rich by giving him my investments. He'd enhance my already amazing portfolio with his brilliance and then maybe my fantasy of $50m would come true!
Then, I'd give some cash to my parents. They deserve it, right?
I'd throw a big party to celebrate my windfall and invite all of my friends from far and wide. It probably doesn't matter where the party is because we would all have so much fun being back together, but I'd like to think that I would want to have everyone in a nice location. So, Hawaii? St. Lucia? Anyplace tropical works for me.
Next, I'd use some of the money to buy a house. I've been a renter for quite a while and it is about time I become an adult and get a mortgage. It would be a lovely custom-built home on some water somewhere. With enough guest rooms for all of my family and friends. There would be a big porch with rocking chairs and a kitchen with marble countertops. Basically, it would be the opposite of the minute apartment I live in now.
Finally, I'd travel. I'd take Superman on a trip to anywhere he wishes. We could visit the far reaches of the world that are only a figment of our imaginations. We'd ride elephants in Asia, we'd kiss koalas in Australia, visit the beaches of South Africa, cruise Alaska...you get the picture.
Oh and one more thing. Unlike MSO Rin, I'd quit my job so fast that it would make the HR guy's head spin. Buh-bye.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I Wonder How I'd Spend It ...
… ah, nothing like flights of fancy to go with my morning coffee. Let’s take off, shall we?
1. Bills. Sorry, I know how totally lame this one is, but I’m turning into a bit of a practical gal as I age. I won’t make anyone’s hair stand on end by revealing just how big a chunk of my cool mil would have to go to this first item, but saying it’s not pretty would be an understatement (The Boy and I had lots of fun pretending credit-card bills were more like suggestions when we were younger).
2. OK. Now that the painful part is out of the way, let’s get down to business. I want to throw the biggest get-together/house party in the history of Big Sky Country. I’d rent out the entire Lodge at Whitefish Lake and then pay for everyone’s plane tix and groceries. (Sorry; it’s BYOB—but don’t worry. The best microbrews in the world are right here.) I’d invite family, friends, and maybe even a few folks I just want to impress with my generosity but don’t really like.
3. Do I have any money left? Oh, I do? Well, I guess I should save some for retirement since I don’t think The Boy or I are particularly investment-savvy and I don’t really know if we’re doing the whole 401(k) thing correctly. Hmm. Maybe I should spring for a sit-down with a financial advisor.
4. I’ll spring for a sit-down with a financial advisor.
5. Maybe go see a movie first, and then go to my financial-planning appointment.
6. My nephew’s college education fund. Both my brother and sister-in-law work in higher education, so he’s already got the tuition-waiver thing going for him. But I want to be sure he’ll have enough money to spend at least one semester abroad. And the only string I’ll attach is that he has to say “yes” if we want to visit him while he’s wherever he is.
7. Am I still not out of money? What the heck?!? This is hard! I’ll give whatever I have left to charity … arts-education funds, non-profit theatres, my local Humane Society perhaps …
Whew! That was hard work! But don’t think I’m not up to it, anonymous benefactor, wherever you are. I realize that with great amounts of cash comes great responsibility. I’m ready for the challenge.
Really. Ready to graciously accept as soon as you’re ready to bestow. Any ol’ time. No rush.
I would like to start shopping for The Boy’s birthday, though.
Call me?
1. Bills. Sorry, I know how totally lame this one is, but I’m turning into a bit of a practical gal as I age. I won’t make anyone’s hair stand on end by revealing just how big a chunk of my cool mil would have to go to this first item, but saying it’s not pretty would be an understatement (The Boy and I had lots of fun pretending credit-card bills were more like suggestions when we were younger).
2. OK. Now that the painful part is out of the way, let’s get down to business. I want to throw the biggest get-together/house party in the history of Big Sky Country. I’d rent out the entire Lodge at Whitefish Lake and then pay for everyone’s plane tix and groceries. (Sorry; it’s BYOB—but don’t worry. The best microbrews in the world are right here.) I’d invite family, friends, and maybe even a few folks I just want to impress with my generosity but don’t really like.
3. Do I have any money left? Oh, I do? Well, I guess I should save some for retirement since I don’t think The Boy or I are particularly investment-savvy and I don’t really know if we’re doing the whole 401(k) thing correctly. Hmm. Maybe I should spring for a sit-down with a financial advisor.
4. I’ll spring for a sit-down with a financial advisor.
5. Maybe go see a movie first, and then go to my financial-planning appointment.
6. My nephew’s college education fund. Both my brother and sister-in-law work in higher education, so he’s already got the tuition-waiver thing going for him. But I want to be sure he’ll have enough money to spend at least one semester abroad. And the only string I’ll attach is that he has to say “yes” if we want to visit him while he’s wherever he is.
7. Am I still not out of money? What the heck?!? This is hard! I’ll give whatever I have left to charity … arts-education funds, non-profit theatres, my local Humane Society perhaps …
Whew! That was hard work! But don’t think I’m not up to it, anonymous benefactor, wherever you are. I realize that with great amounts of cash comes great responsibility. I’m ready for the challenge.
Really. Ready to graciously accept as soon as you’re ready to bestow. Any ol’ time. No rush.
I would like to start shopping for The Boy’s birthday, though.
Call me?
Monday, July 9, 2007
i wonder what i'd do with a million dollars.
i love this topic because i love to day dream about how my life would be had i married prince william or matthew mcconaughey. i love them both. and had i married either of them, i would be rich and not stuck behind this desk right now scraping the sides of my healthy choice frozen lunch container. unfortunately, a million dollars doesn't go that far nowadays, but it would still go a ton further than my current salary.
if i had a million dollars (and you know you're singing that bnl song right now as you read this...which reminds me of g love and her duet during that campus talent show one year!) i would do 2 things: 1) stick $500,000 of it in the bank or invest it somewhere and 2) travel. i've never been a big shopper or one to just blow a ton of money on 'things.' i'm not into cars or clothes or shoes or what have you. no, i'm more into 'going', into seeing, into learning. traveling is right up my alley and that is exactly what i would do with my newfound wealth!
there is no doubt in my mind that i would take my tiny family of 4 on numerous trips. since i have a 4 yr old and a 2 yr old, we'd have to hit disney world and totally live it up. i would also love to take them and my folks on a trip to europe. my dad is a history freak, but has never been overseas. i would love to take him on a trip to germany if i had a million dollars. a cruise would be nice, as would a trip to egypt. we'd live it up in those places, that's for sure. i wouldn't put us on a budget or pass up that extra souvenir. we'd go hog wild and have the best times!
i would also like to think that i would quit this day job that i have, but i can't say that i would. i'm not nuts about my job, but it does have some perks that i enjoy. one perk that will come in handy years from now is free tuition for my girls. that will be nice to have around and so i need to stick here for awhile. but then again, if i'm going to be traveling so much, i may have to quit for awhile and then hire back on. or better yet, maybe my $500,000 investment will be enough to put them both through school when the time comes.
it's wonderful to dream about it all and think about how my life would be different. i don't see any fortune coming my way any time soon, so i'll have to just cross my fingers and hope that my girls make bigger bucks than me or that they marry rich!
if i had a million dollars (and you know you're singing that bnl song right now as you read this...which reminds me of g love and her duet during that campus talent show one year!) i would do 2 things: 1) stick $500,000 of it in the bank or invest it somewhere and 2) travel. i've never been a big shopper or one to just blow a ton of money on 'things.' i'm not into cars or clothes or shoes or what have you. no, i'm more into 'going', into seeing, into learning. traveling is right up my alley and that is exactly what i would do with my newfound wealth!
there is no doubt in my mind that i would take my tiny family of 4 on numerous trips. since i have a 4 yr old and a 2 yr old, we'd have to hit disney world and totally live it up. i would also love to take them and my folks on a trip to europe. my dad is a history freak, but has never been overseas. i would love to take him on a trip to germany if i had a million dollars. a cruise would be nice, as would a trip to egypt. we'd live it up in those places, that's for sure. i wouldn't put us on a budget or pass up that extra souvenir. we'd go hog wild and have the best times!
i would also like to think that i would quit this day job that i have, but i can't say that i would. i'm not nuts about my job, but it does have some perks that i enjoy. one perk that will come in handy years from now is free tuition for my girls. that will be nice to have around and so i need to stick here for awhile. but then again, if i'm going to be traveling so much, i may have to quit for awhile and then hire back on. or better yet, maybe my $500,000 investment will be enough to put them both through school when the time comes.
it's wonderful to dream about it all and think about how my life would be different. i don't see any fortune coming my way any time soon, so i'll have to just cross my fingers and hope that my girls make bigger bucks than me or that they marry rich!
Friday, July 6, 2007
I Wonder What Happens When Two WW Break The Rules?
MSO Rin and Wicked M decided to share this Friday's entry since none of us know whose turn it is and we're using the holiday week to break the rules! We logged into IM and started a conversation based on something we've been talking about recently. Here's what got said in our fifteen minute conversation (we had to limit ourselves otherwise this entry would have been seven hours long).
Wicked M: I wonder what happened to me and my sense of fun??
MSO Rin: Well, I'll tell ya … maturity! We're all still us and we all still love some good clean (and sometimes down 'n' dirty) fun. I think it's not we who have changed, it's just our definition of what makes us happy that's expanded to include more calm pursuits. Unless you're referring to that late-twenty-something phenomenon of not feeling so much like trying like hell to make new friends. I know we've all griped about that. I wonder what that is all about?
Wicked M: Okay, so you're going to sound all smart on this chat and I'm going to sound like an idiot. Greeeeat. I think a huge part of me not being so much fun is having a job that requires me to be awake and alert at 8:00 a.m. You spend your whole day at work, then you come home, have dinner, have errands to run, laundry to do, etc. It is a never ending list of adult chores. And we thought we had it bad when we were kids! The whole making new friends thing? That is a tough one!
MSO Rin: Don't be silly … I don't sound smart, I just use lots of hyphenated words. J I wonder if it's all the free time one has as a student that keeps us constantly discovering new friends, or the instant bonding a major or a sorority or a club can provide. And that's possibly why all my friends now that aren't old friends are ones I've been lucky enough to make at work. Career friends, I guess you'd say. And I've been lucky in that I'm currently working where my passion is. When I wasn't working in theatre, I made a few friends, but all of them have fallen away now that I'm not working at those places. So I wonder if adult relationships are by nature temporary. It is harder to get stoked about going out to Pub Trivia or karaoke on a work night when you're loaded w/a full day like you just described—as opposed to a full day of sitting in lectures and gossiping at lunch while you try to catch a rerun of "Dawson's" in your room …
Wicked M: I think that a great majority of the reason it is tougher to make friends after college is because you're never quite sure when you first meet someone at work whether or not you'll have something in common with them. During school, you would meet someone in class so you had that in common or you would make friends with girls because they lived on the same floor of you in the dorm. Finding friends at work is tougher because people are there for work and they have their guards up all the time. Plus, I think that most of us don't want to break the professional barrier and end up looking like an idiot. Also, most of the time I just want to leave work at work. Being friends with people from work usually means that you just end of bitching about work all the time together. It probably also doesn't help that I work with a lot of men who are old enough to be my dad. They aren't exactly going to become my new margarita drinking buddies or my shopping pals!
MSO Rin: Are you kidding? I would totally go shopping and Margarita-drinking w/your dad. But you're right … lots of times, my friends and I do "fix" our work world when we get together. And since I'm losing my closest set next week to the East Coast, we'll see if my wonder is correct and they were just my friends for a certain time in my life. Which brings me to another wonder: I wonder what it is that makes distance so often hard for romantic relationships but not for some friendships? I know there are friends one makes for life, but usually you can't tell if a new buddy will end up being one of those—or if you think he/she is, he/she probably isn't. So what are the things that make a friendship really, really stick? B/c you could say that the same criteria for those kinds of friendships are automatically part of a relationships: shared experiences, intense feelings/conversations/plans/goals, lots of laughter and some tears. But long-distance relationships rarely work. Is it the physical aspect? I know I really miss hugging on and being near my best friends, but we stay best friends without it. So I wonder what the difference is?
Wicked M: That is because my Dad is awesome! Seriously. Isn't he one of the coolest guys you've ever met? I'm not sure that the long-distance topic is an easy one. I think that long-distance relationships fail often because of the physical aspect. I could go on and on abut this subject, but I truly believe that most long distance relationships are doomed to fail. Long distance friendships are a completely different thing. I think a lot of friendships are formed to serve a purpose at a certain time in life, but that it is so easy to grow distant from friends when you don't live in the same place. It becomes even tougher when you are in different parts of your life—someone is married, someone is single. Someone has kids, someone is childless. You know what I mean. Overall, though, I would say that most relationships, friend or romantic, fail because of lack of effort. People don't want to do the work.
MSO Rin: Well, just look at all the work the four of us are doing! I’m quite proud of us! We have certainly strayed off-topic: wondering about how fun means something different to us now. And I’m certain this is a wonder that will follow us forever, as we all continue to grow and change and our idea of fun morphs. Today, for instance, my idea of fun is closely linked to sleeping in (something I didn’t do on the Independence Day holiday), making some Country Time Lemonade, and sitting next to my husband while reading a magazine on the back porch as the sun sinks after 9P tonight. And Wicked M would probably second that idea plus throw in a good run. You’d have to be crazy to argue that that’s not a good time. How about y’all—what sounds fun to you right now?
Wicked M: I wonder what happened to me and my sense of fun??
MSO Rin: Well, I'll tell ya … maturity! We're all still us and we all still love some good clean (and sometimes down 'n' dirty) fun. I think it's not we who have changed, it's just our definition of what makes us happy that's expanded to include more calm pursuits. Unless you're referring to that late-twenty-something phenomenon of not feeling so much like trying like hell to make new friends. I know we've all griped about that. I wonder what that is all about?
Wicked M: Okay, so you're going to sound all smart on this chat and I'm going to sound like an idiot. Greeeeat. I think a huge part of me not being so much fun is having a job that requires me to be awake and alert at 8:00 a.m. You spend your whole day at work, then you come home, have dinner, have errands to run, laundry to do, etc. It is a never ending list of adult chores. And we thought we had it bad when we were kids! The whole making new friends thing? That is a tough one!
MSO Rin: Don't be silly … I don't sound smart, I just use lots of hyphenated words. J I wonder if it's all the free time one has as a student that keeps us constantly discovering new friends, or the instant bonding a major or a sorority or a club can provide. And that's possibly why all my friends now that aren't old friends are ones I've been lucky enough to make at work. Career friends, I guess you'd say. And I've been lucky in that I'm currently working where my passion is. When I wasn't working in theatre, I made a few friends, but all of them have fallen away now that I'm not working at those places. So I wonder if adult relationships are by nature temporary. It is harder to get stoked about going out to Pub Trivia or karaoke on a work night when you're loaded w/a full day like you just described—as opposed to a full day of sitting in lectures and gossiping at lunch while you try to catch a rerun of "Dawson's" in your room …
Wicked M: I think that a great majority of the reason it is tougher to make friends after college is because you're never quite sure when you first meet someone at work whether or not you'll have something in common with them. During school, you would meet someone in class so you had that in common or you would make friends with girls because they lived on the same floor of you in the dorm. Finding friends at work is tougher because people are there for work and they have their guards up all the time. Plus, I think that most of us don't want to break the professional barrier and end up looking like an idiot. Also, most of the time I just want to leave work at work. Being friends with people from work usually means that you just end of bitching about work all the time together. It probably also doesn't help that I work with a lot of men who are old enough to be my dad. They aren't exactly going to become my new margarita drinking buddies or my shopping pals!
MSO Rin: Are you kidding? I would totally go shopping and Margarita-drinking w/your dad. But you're right … lots of times, my friends and I do "fix" our work world when we get together. And since I'm losing my closest set next week to the East Coast, we'll see if my wonder is correct and they were just my friends for a certain time in my life. Which brings me to another wonder: I wonder what it is that makes distance so often hard for romantic relationships but not for some friendships? I know there are friends one makes for life, but usually you can't tell if a new buddy will end up being one of those—or if you think he/she is, he/she probably isn't. So what are the things that make a friendship really, really stick? B/c you could say that the same criteria for those kinds of friendships are automatically part of a relationships: shared experiences, intense feelings/conversations/plans/goals, lots of laughter and some tears. But long-distance relationships rarely work. Is it the physical aspect? I know I really miss hugging on and being near my best friends, but we stay best friends without it. So I wonder what the difference is?
Wicked M: That is because my Dad is awesome! Seriously. Isn't he one of the coolest guys you've ever met? I'm not sure that the long-distance topic is an easy one. I think that long-distance relationships fail often because of the physical aspect. I could go on and on abut this subject, but I truly believe that most long distance relationships are doomed to fail. Long distance friendships are a completely different thing. I think a lot of friendships are formed to serve a purpose at a certain time in life, but that it is so easy to grow distant from friends when you don't live in the same place. It becomes even tougher when you are in different parts of your life—someone is married, someone is single. Someone has kids, someone is childless. You know what I mean. Overall, though, I would say that most relationships, friend or romantic, fail because of lack of effort. People don't want to do the work.
MSO Rin: Well, just look at all the work the four of us are doing! I’m quite proud of us! We have certainly strayed off-topic: wondering about how fun means something different to us now. And I’m certain this is a wonder that will follow us forever, as we all continue to grow and change and our idea of fun morphs. Today, for instance, my idea of fun is closely linked to sleeping in (something I didn’t do on the Independence Day holiday), making some Country Time Lemonade, and sitting next to my husband while reading a magazine on the back porch as the sun sinks after 9P tonight. And Wicked M would probably second that idea plus throw in a good run. You’d have to be crazy to argue that that’s not a good time. How about y’all—what sounds fun to you right now?
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Nothing from G Love Today!
B/c she's on vacay, baby! Hope you're having fun in the wild Southwest and true West, G! :)
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
I Wonder What My Mom Thought When She Found Out I Was a Gal?
I considered cheating on this topic and going straight to the source for the answer. Then I thought it would be more fun to try and write this entry without talking to her first and then asking her after I had it written and published.
My parents had me after eight years of marriage and after many, many miscarriages. My mom has told me numerous times about the heartbreak of trying year after year to have a child only to have it snatched away. She rarely talks about these eight years from a trying-to-have-kids perspective, but when she does it is matter-of-fact and there is sadness in her eyes.
My mom always says that by the time I came along, she was convinced it would never happen. She has also said on numerous occasions that she didn't care if my brother and I were boys or girls; she only wanted healthy babies. I was born back in the days before ultrasounds and finding out the sex of your child. So, I can see how parents would only have wished for healthy babies. My parents had names for both a boy and a girl chosen and if I had been a boy, I would probably have been Adam Wade or I would have gotten my brother's name. Girls names that my parents considered were Caryn, Alison, and the name I got.
I was born a few days after a huge snowstorm in the winter of 1977. My parents' best friends had had their baby girl only a week before I was born and my dad had had to go pick them up because their car was stuck in the snow. My mom does mention that she gained a lot of weight with her pregnancies and that she was definitely ready for them to be over. So, I am sure that she was happy I was a cute little baby girl, but I am sure she was probably more happy about having her body back and about not being so uncomfortable!
I'd like to think that when she found out I was a girl she was excited, happy and thought about the many things we would get to share over the years. I think a mother and daughter have a special relationship and I hope that what she glimpsed in that first moment was only a fraction of how wonderful our lives together have been.
My parents had me after eight years of marriage and after many, many miscarriages. My mom has told me numerous times about the heartbreak of trying year after year to have a child only to have it snatched away. She rarely talks about these eight years from a trying-to-have-kids perspective, but when she does it is matter-of-fact and there is sadness in her eyes.
My mom always says that by the time I came along, she was convinced it would never happen. She has also said on numerous occasions that she didn't care if my brother and I were boys or girls; she only wanted healthy babies. I was born back in the days before ultrasounds and finding out the sex of your child. So, I can see how parents would only have wished for healthy babies. My parents had names for both a boy and a girl chosen and if I had been a boy, I would probably have been Adam Wade or I would have gotten my brother's name. Girls names that my parents considered were Caryn, Alison, and the name I got.
I was born a few days after a huge snowstorm in the winter of 1977. My parents' best friends had had their baby girl only a week before I was born and my dad had had to go pick them up because their car was stuck in the snow. My mom does mention that she gained a lot of weight with her pregnancies and that she was definitely ready for them to be over. So, I am sure that she was happy I was a cute little baby girl, but I am sure she was probably more happy about having her body back and about not being so uncomfortable!
I'd like to think that when she found out I was a girl she was excited, happy and thought about the many things we would get to share over the years. I think a mother and daughter have a special relationship and I hope that what she glimpsed in that first moment was only a fraction of how wonderful our lives together have been.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
I Wonder What Mom Thought When I Popped Out ... Me?
For being a pretty self-centered kid, I haven’t had much discussion w/Mom about my birth. All I know is that Dad was so not in the delivery room and that I, too, was almost born in a vehicle in the snowy dark of night. It was North Dakota, so no need to qualify blizzard conditions. I’m pretty sure it was just routine January weather. I’d have come into the world in a blue Ford truck, except that I didn’t.
I hope I’m not showing my tush too much when I assume that back then, prenatal care was a bit less technological and that prior to my arrival, Mom didn’t have any idea what my sex would be (if you want to get into a very interesting discussion with yourself or others like you, please go to your local library and pick up the May 21 issue of Newsweek). I have the vague memory that she didn’t have a name picked until my arrival, even. But don’t quote me on that one. So I’m mostly convinced that I was a screaming little surprise, akin to being sure that you’re getting a Barbie for your birthday from your sister, but you just don’t know which kind. Only more life-altering.
I have an older brother whose mother is Mom, so I’m sure she was thinking, “Sweet! Finally, someone who’ll appreciate flowers, Mama’s pearls, and L’Air du Temps!” Now, my dad only has my little sister Kat and me to claim, so I guess what went through his mind was, “Good! I’ll make S. have the birds-and-bees talk with her since they’re both women. Maybe I’ll never have to do that ever!”
What was not going through my mom’s mind (but really should have been) was, “Oh, my precious little one is just so perfect … I could just lie here and look at her all day. The pain was worth it. She’s adorable and obviously intelligent. Look at those dimples … look at those feet … look at those eyes … I wonder how to go about getting her into modeling/commercials/baby acting?” I’d have conquered the world, been the Gerber baby, gotten to play with an Easy-Bake Oven before any of my friends, and gotten tons of free clothes/food/diapers. I’d now be a totally stinkin’ rich drug addict without an education, but that’s neither here nor there. I coulda been a contender. Thanks, Mom.
No, really, Mom, thanks. You’re pretty incredible, and your support since that first cold and snowy day has meant everything to me. You’ve been there for me through church pageants/camp/mission trips, pink eye, swimming lessons, many failed attempts to play organized sports, simultaneous braces and glasses, broken bones, broken teeth, a multi-broken heart, firsts and lasts, plays and recitals and dance concerts, graduations, apartments, weddings, and even funerals. I don’t know what you thought on the day you knew I was a girl, but I don’t think it was a disappointment. I hope that nothing I’ve done since has made you change your tune.
I hope I’m not showing my tush too much when I assume that back then, prenatal care was a bit less technological and that prior to my arrival, Mom didn’t have any idea what my sex would be (if you want to get into a very interesting discussion with yourself or others like you, please go to your local library and pick up the May 21 issue of Newsweek). I have the vague memory that she didn’t have a name picked until my arrival, even. But don’t quote me on that one. So I’m mostly convinced that I was a screaming little surprise, akin to being sure that you’re getting a Barbie for your birthday from your sister, but you just don’t know which kind. Only more life-altering.
I have an older brother whose mother is Mom, so I’m sure she was thinking, “Sweet! Finally, someone who’ll appreciate flowers, Mama’s pearls, and L’Air du Temps!” Now, my dad only has my little sister Kat and me to claim, so I guess what went through his mind was, “Good! I’ll make S. have the birds-and-bees talk with her since they’re both women. Maybe I’ll never have to do that ever!”
What was not going through my mom’s mind (but really should have been) was, “Oh, my precious little one is just so perfect … I could just lie here and look at her all day. The pain was worth it. She’s adorable and obviously intelligent. Look at those dimples … look at those feet … look at those eyes … I wonder how to go about getting her into modeling/commercials/baby acting?” I’d have conquered the world, been the Gerber baby, gotten to play with an Easy-Bake Oven before any of my friends, and gotten tons of free clothes/food/diapers. I’d now be a totally stinkin’ rich drug addict without an education, but that’s neither here nor there. I coulda been a contender. Thanks, Mom.
No, really, Mom, thanks. You’re pretty incredible, and your support since that first cold and snowy day has meant everything to me. You’ve been there for me through church pageants/camp/mission trips, pink eye, swimming lessons, many failed attempts to play organized sports, simultaneous braces and glasses, broken bones, broken teeth, a multi-broken heart, firsts and lasts, plays and recitals and dance concerts, graduations, apartments, weddings, and even funerals. I don’t know what you thought on the day you knew I was a girl, but I don’t think it was a disappointment. I hope that nothing I’ve done since has made you change your tune.
Monday, July 2, 2007
i wonder what my mom thought when she found out i was a girl.
if you visit our blog regularly, you've probably caught on to the blogging schedule:
mondays - g-love
tuesdays - super jane
wednesdays - mso rin
thursdays - wicked m
fridays - rotate through the 4 of us
we thought we would spice things up a bit in the wonder women world and allow someone else to kick off our weeks. that, my friends, would be me -- yours truly -- super jane. you'll have me kicking off our weekly blog topics for the next few months. and then it will be on to mso rin. i love predictibility and schedules like nobody's business and thought you may enjoy being in on the schedule too.
okay, enough about organization, schedules, and predictibility (3 of my favorite things). let's talk about sex. (i love salt 'n peppa too). but not sex as in 'the nasty,' but rather sex as in gender. i wonder what my mom thought when she found out i was a girl. an interesting topic, i think, because my mom and i have talked about so much surrounding my birth (like the fact that i was almost born in a car because my parents' car broke down on the way to the hospital in the blizzard of '78) that i have failed to ask her this exact question.
if i had to guess, i would assume that at that very moment of my delivery, my mom could not have cared less what my gender was. due to the snow and blizzard of '78, my mom and dad barely made it to the hospital before i was born; therefore, there was no time for my mom to be soothed by an epidural or other drugs. i was delivered au natural and i'm pretty sure my mom wasn't happy about that. having given birth twice myself, i know and understand the value of a good epidural.
once the pain of childbirth wore off, i'm sure my mom was over the moon to have another daughter. having said that, i'm sure there was a bit of let down or disappointment over the fact that i wasn't a boy. i have an older sister and doesn't every parent dream of having 'one of each?' a boy and a girl? of course, the second my parents held me and were mesmerized by my beauty, i'm sure they couldn't have imagined having a son; another daughter would've felt just perfect to them.
my parents already had my name picked out. they wanted to name me after my dad regardless of my gender. and i'm definitely glad i am a girl because the name i would've gotten had i been a boy wouldn't have been my dream name. how does "carl keith lastname III" sound? yeah, my thoughts exactly!
and so they named me my name which i love and if you're wondering what it is -- it's the opposite of cloudy. and when my parents told the doctor what they were naming me, he annouced, 'what? why are you being so mean to her? she just got here!' and at that point, i'm certain my mom was thinking about how she'd like to kick that guy in the teeth!
mondays - g-love
tuesdays - super jane
wednesdays - mso rin
thursdays - wicked m
fridays - rotate through the 4 of us
we thought we would spice things up a bit in the wonder women world and allow someone else to kick off our weeks. that, my friends, would be me -- yours truly -- super jane. you'll have me kicking off our weekly blog topics for the next few months. and then it will be on to mso rin. i love predictibility and schedules like nobody's business and thought you may enjoy being in on the schedule too.
okay, enough about organization, schedules, and predictibility (3 of my favorite things). let's talk about sex. (i love salt 'n peppa too). but not sex as in 'the nasty,' but rather sex as in gender. i wonder what my mom thought when she found out i was a girl. an interesting topic, i think, because my mom and i have talked about so much surrounding my birth (like the fact that i was almost born in a car because my parents' car broke down on the way to the hospital in the blizzard of '78) that i have failed to ask her this exact question.
if i had to guess, i would assume that at that very moment of my delivery, my mom could not have cared less what my gender was. due to the snow and blizzard of '78, my mom and dad barely made it to the hospital before i was born; therefore, there was no time for my mom to be soothed by an epidural or other drugs. i was delivered au natural and i'm pretty sure my mom wasn't happy about that. having given birth twice myself, i know and understand the value of a good epidural.
once the pain of childbirth wore off, i'm sure my mom was over the moon to have another daughter. having said that, i'm sure there was a bit of let down or disappointment over the fact that i wasn't a boy. i have an older sister and doesn't every parent dream of having 'one of each?' a boy and a girl? of course, the second my parents held me and were mesmerized by my beauty, i'm sure they couldn't have imagined having a son; another daughter would've felt just perfect to them.
my parents already had my name picked out. they wanted to name me after my dad regardless of my gender. and i'm definitely glad i am a girl because the name i would've gotten had i been a boy wouldn't have been my dream name. how does "carl keith lastname III" sound? yeah, my thoughts exactly!
and so they named me my name which i love and if you're wondering what it is -- it's the opposite of cloudy. and when my parents told the doctor what they were naming me, he annouced, 'what? why are you being so mean to her? she just got here!' and at that point, i'm certain my mom was thinking about how she'd like to kick that guy in the teeth!
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