2008, that is. Hol-le-hell. How did another year go by?
There is something about new year's eve that calms me and makes me reflect. Not that reflecting is anything new, I tend to reflect on the past and on new possibilities a lot..perhaps too often, but I like to remind myself of where I've been, where I've gone, and where I'm going. I do more thinking about it all tomorrow, only there is a very good chance that tomorrow's reflection will be interrupted by a banging in my head, greasy food to try and curb the banging, and dark sunglasses to stop the blinding in my eyes. So, along with some errands and watching a mindless marathon of "No Reservation" with Anthony Bourdain, I'll reflect on one of the most amazing years of my life and I'll wonder what the new year will bring to me and those around me.
One thing I know for sure is that I grew in ways I could not have imagined, saw things I only dreamed about, and learned enough to know that I don't know anything at all. It was an interesting, heartbreaking, stressful, imaginative, eye-opening, courageous, daydreaming, tear-filled, laugh line making, liver killing, exhausting, insomnia inducing, wondrous and glorious year. I look forward to more of all the above starting tomorrow. (Around noon-ish.) (I'm expecting a late night.)
Happy new year everyone!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Happy Merry Christmas!
to all and to all a wonderful holiday!
(...and if need be, add alcohol. Alcohol makes everything seem wonderful and glorious.
Me, I had a bottle of red wine last night. Hmmm, good Christmas eve.)
I hope your day is wonderful and (not too) bright!
(...and if need be, add alcohol. Alcohol makes everything seem wonderful and glorious.
Me, I had a bottle of red wine last night. Hmmm, good Christmas eve.)
I hope your day is wonderful and (not too) bright!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
inner dork: it's literature, my dear.
Yay! It's inner dork Thursday. Or, how to make book-learning fun.
Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer was the first manuscript to be sent to the publisher already type-written.
The typewriter was invented in 1876.
The first names of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were Henry and Edward.
Dr. Frankenstein's first name was Victor.
Mick Jagger turned down an advance of 3.5 million pounds for his memoirs, because he couldn't remember enough significant information about his own life.
(Does that make it a good life or a bad life??)
In 1900, Americans voted their favorite book, after the Bible, was the Sears Roebuck Catalogue.
There are twenty different kisses described in the Kama Sutra.
J.R.R. Tolkien's name stand for John Ronald Reuel.
In the Batman Stories, Riddler's real name was Edward Nigma or E. Nigma.
According to Ernest Hemingway there are four achievements to become a real man: plant a tree, fight a bull, write a book, and have a son.
(Hmmm, so apparently, he was a real man.)
(A son, not a daughter. There will be no substitutions.)
One edition of a current Sunday New York Times has more information in it than a typical adult was exposed to in an entire lifetime a hundred years ago.
Gosh, I sure have missed Inner Dorkings.
Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer was the first manuscript to be sent to the publisher already type-written.
The typewriter was invented in 1876.
The first names of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were Henry and Edward.
Dr. Frankenstein's first name was Victor.
Mick Jagger turned down an advance of 3.5 million pounds for his memoirs, because he couldn't remember enough significant information about his own life.
(Does that make it a good life or a bad life??)
In 1900, Americans voted their favorite book, after the Bible, was the Sears Roebuck Catalogue.
There are twenty different kisses described in the Kama Sutra.
J.R.R. Tolkien's name stand for John Ronald Reuel.
In the Batman Stories, Riddler's real name was Edward Nigma or E. Nigma.
According to Ernest Hemingway there are four achievements to become a real man: plant a tree, fight a bull, write a book, and have a son.
(Hmmm, so apparently, he was a real man.)
(A son, not a daughter. There will be no substitutions.)
One edition of a current Sunday New York Times has more information in it than a typical adult was exposed to in an entire lifetime a hundred years ago.
Gosh, I sure have missed Inner Dorkings.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
wish hard, hope hard, drink hard...
Okay, so grades are due today.
Grades have not been posted as of yet.
I need to get a 3.0.
A 3.0 means: I won't be placed on probation, I won't lose my scholarship, I will be able to apply for scholarships and grants for my Brazil trip.
It basically means I won't have to worry.
So, if all of you, most lovely of lovely people, can think all good thoughts for me, that would be great.
There are two classes that have some cause for concern. Bad start, strong finish, but that bad start was a really bad start, so even though I had a strong finish there is still need for worry.
In another class, which I was (perhaps the keyword) getting an "A" I was most annoyed with the professor and with his test. I kinda showed this in my answer on the essay portion. When the question asked us to show our knowledge in research and apply it to the (stupid ass) question being asked of me, I (kinda) responded in a snarky manner.
The question, to paraphrase: developers want to build a new housing development along the Mississippi river...and it goes from there.
My first sentence to the questions read: "Well, I would ask why people would want to live along a flood plain." (not kidding)
Second sentence read: "Will the people have a problem with needing to buy flood insurance?" (Nope, still serious.)
Third sentence, "Will they have a problem with the smell of the river?" (Nope.)
..and it went from there.
So, who knows where my "A" might have went.
Other class I was (again, keyword) getting an "A" in, that professor decided to grill me over the hot, hot bed of evil known as the, end of the semester pissiness for over 30 minutes in front of my peers because she misunderstood what I said only I didn't know that she misunderstood and couldn't for the life of me understand why she wasn't getting it and when she finally did understand she didn't seem to care about the hot, hot bed of uncomfortableness and flusteredness she had just put me through. The class, however, apologized on her behalf.
So. Please. Please, squeeze your eyes tight and think happy good thoughts for (or, of) me.
See it. Think it. Visualize it.
The 3.0.
Or. 3.2.
Better yet, a 3.5.
That'd be great.
Thanks.
You're all the most-bestest.
Grades have not been posted as of yet.
I need to get a 3.0.
A 3.0 means: I won't be placed on probation, I won't lose my scholarship, I will be able to apply for scholarships and grants for my Brazil trip.
It basically means I won't have to worry.
So, if all of you, most lovely of lovely people, can think all good thoughts for me, that would be great.
There are two classes that have some cause for concern. Bad start, strong finish, but that bad start was a really bad start, so even though I had a strong finish there is still need for worry.
In another class, which I was (perhaps the keyword) getting an "A" I was most annoyed with the professor and with his test. I kinda showed this in my answer on the essay portion. When the question asked us to show our knowledge in research and apply it to the (stupid ass) question being asked of me, I (kinda) responded in a snarky manner.
The question, to paraphrase: developers want to build a new housing development along the Mississippi river...and it goes from there.
My first sentence to the questions read: "Well, I would ask why people would want to live along a flood plain." (not kidding)
Second sentence read: "Will the people have a problem with needing to buy flood insurance?" (Nope, still serious.)
Third sentence, "Will they have a problem with the smell of the river?" (Nope.)
..and it went from there.
So, who knows where my "A" might have went.
Other class I was (again, keyword) getting an "A" in, that professor decided to grill me over the hot, hot bed of evil known as the, end of the semester pissiness for over 30 minutes in front of my peers because she misunderstood what I said only I didn't know that she misunderstood and couldn't for the life of me understand why she wasn't getting it and when she finally did understand she didn't seem to care about the hot, hot bed of uncomfortableness and flusteredness she had just put me through. The class, however, apologized on her behalf.
So. Please. Please, squeeze your eyes tight and think happy good thoughts for (or, of) me.
See it. Think it. Visualize it.
The 3.0.
Or. 3.2.
Better yet, a 3.5.
That'd be great.
Thanks.
You're all the most-bestest.
Friday, December 14, 2007
that's why they call it, practicing
I joke about my drinking ability.
I make fun of my liver.
I've been known to beat my liver into quiet submission.
I always win the battle.
At least until the next morning.
Yesterday, you know, the last day of the semester, I told my three most-bestest friends to meet me at the bar. At the bar at 1:15 CST.
They came.
Aaaaaand, they did not drink.
I made fun.
I ridiculed.
I said, what the fuck?!?!
They said, they were tired. (They complained, really)
They were up late.
They wanted a nap.
In the meantime I drank five of my most favorite drinks in about two hours. Actually, two hours is probably being generous. More like 1.5 hours, but I don't want to brag.
I would have kept drinking but they mentioned money constraints and tired eyes and wa-wa-wa.
Fine.
They went home to nap.
Okay, I took a nap too. Hey, I was home and the alcohol had kicked in. Nappy-time sounded like a good idea.
Back to the bar at 9:ish.
Aaaaaand we all drank the night away.
When I wasn't drinking fast enough, they enabled me.
When they weren't drinking fast enough, I enabled them.
It's a give and take relationship.
I'm not an alcoholic.
I'm a practicing alcoholic.
There is a difference.
Here's the thing, I'm 33 years old. They are: 22, 24, 26. (My most bestest friends. The rest of the gang is mostly 22 and 23.)
I have, admittedly and I've been told, that I have the worst sleeping patterns of just about anyone alive.
Meaning, I don't. Sleep. I don't sleep. Rarely. Six hours, tops. Mixed in with a lot of insomnia.
Yet, they were tired. Several of the gang left early.
I closed the bar.
And I can drink all of them under the table without slurring or being stupid.
Maybe loud and hilarious. But not stupid.
There is a difference.
There are two different levels of obnoxious.
I am the fun kind of obnoxious.
Oh, and I met someone.
I'll see if there is any chemistry when we're both sober and I'll let you know.
I don't have hopes of it being ever-lasting.
Or more than weekend-lasting.
But I've been known to be wrong.
About a lot of things.
I make fun of my liver.
I've been known to beat my liver into quiet submission.
I always win the battle.
At least until the next morning.
Yesterday, you know, the last day of the semester, I told my three most-bestest friends to meet me at the bar. At the bar at 1:15 CST.
They came.
Aaaaaand, they did not drink.
I made fun.
I ridiculed.
I said, what the fuck?!?!
They said, they were tired. (They complained, really)
They were up late.
They wanted a nap.
In the meantime I drank five of my most favorite drinks in about two hours. Actually, two hours is probably being generous. More like 1.5 hours, but I don't want to brag.
I would have kept drinking but they mentioned money constraints and tired eyes and wa-wa-wa.
Fine.
They went home to nap.
Okay, I took a nap too. Hey, I was home and the alcohol had kicked in. Nappy-time sounded like a good idea.
Back to the bar at 9:ish.
Aaaaaand we all drank the night away.
When I wasn't drinking fast enough, they enabled me.
When they weren't drinking fast enough, I enabled them.
It's a give and take relationship.
I'm not an alcoholic.
I'm a practicing alcoholic.
There is a difference.
Here's the thing, I'm 33 years old. They are: 22, 24, 26. (My most bestest friends. The rest of the gang is mostly 22 and 23.)
I have, admittedly and I've been told, that I have the worst sleeping patterns of just about anyone alive.
Meaning, I don't. Sleep. I don't sleep. Rarely. Six hours, tops. Mixed in with a lot of insomnia.
Yet, they were tired. Several of the gang left early.
I closed the bar.
And I can drink all of them under the table without slurring or being stupid.
Maybe loud and hilarious. But not stupid.
There is a difference.
There are two different levels of obnoxious.
I am the fun kind of obnoxious.
Oh, and I met someone.
I'll see if there is any chemistry when we're both sober and I'll let you know.
I don't have hopes of it being ever-lasting.
Or more than weekend-lasting.
But I've been known to be wrong.
About a lot of things.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
inner dork: all about the numbers
No, I've missed inner dork more. Honest.
This one is an inner dork (of sorts) about me and this semester.
Day the semester began: August 20th.
Day I started my job: August 28th.
Day I quit my job: December 7th.
Last day of the semester: (for me) December 13th.
Papers finished: 37.
Friends made: 3, life long friends.
Experiences had: Too many to count.
Things learned: Enough to let me know that I don't know anything.
Annoyance level: Has been high.
Number of times I've cried: 1 time. Maybe 2, due to stress and not being sure I was making the right choices.
Number of alcoholic beverages consumed: Off the charts. I cannot count that high.
Time the last of my papers are due: 1:00 CST, today.
Number I have to turn in: 21.
This time last year: My undergrad thesis advisor was telling me: I had no talent, no concept of the English language, I wouldn't pass the thesis committee.
And Mr. London told me he was moving.
Exactly at this time last year.
Ah, the difference a year can make.
Time I will be at the bar: 1:15 CST. I won't be late.
Hours I will be at the bar: Until they ask me to leave. Or until my credit card reads, "denied" whichever comes first.
This one is an inner dork (of sorts) about me and this semester.
Day the semester began: August 20th.
Day I started my job: August 28th.
Day I quit my job: December 7th.
Last day of the semester: (for me) December 13th.
Papers finished: 37.
Friends made: 3, life long friends.
Experiences had: Too many to count.
Things learned: Enough to let me know that I don't know anything.
Annoyance level: Has been high.
Number of times I've cried: 1 time. Maybe 2, due to stress and not being sure I was making the right choices.
Number of alcoholic beverages consumed: Off the charts. I cannot count that high.
Time the last of my papers are due: 1:00 CST, today.
Number I have to turn in: 21.
This time last year: My undergrad thesis advisor was telling me: I had no talent, no concept of the English language, I wouldn't pass the thesis committee.
And Mr. London told me he was moving.
Exactly at this time last year.
Ah, the difference a year can make.
Time I will be at the bar: 1:15 CST. I won't be late.
Hours I will be at the bar: Until they ask me to leave. Or until my credit card reads, "denied" whichever comes first.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
well, that ain't right...
(A moment to set the scene:)
Finals week. 36.5 papers finished out of 37.
Take home essays to finish: 1 set of 2 questions.
Finals taken: 1.
Finals left to take: 2.
Two of those finals are tomorrow.
I really, really need to get an "A" on one of them.
(Feel free to send me all kinds of warm and fuzzy thoughts around 1:00 pm CST.) (Thanks.)
(and then again around 6:00 pm CST.)
(Thanks.)
21 of the papers are due on Thursday at 1:00 pm CST.
They count as a total of 55% of my grade for the semester.
(No pressure.)
Today, my state was hit with another ice/snow storm.
School was not canceled.
I lost three hours of precious study time to go take a final on an undergrad stats class that has nothing to do with my GPA.
I was annoyed as all hell.
Tonight I finished a research paper and I needed to refresh my eyes. So, time to wash the face and brush the teeth, take out the contacts, put on the glasses and start the next round of typing. The take home essays, to be exact.
Take out the contact container from my medicine cabinet.
Grab the container of multi-vitamins, put one in the right contact holder, one in the left contact holder.
Stand and stare at the contact container.
Try and figure out what I did wrong.
Why doesn't that look right?
Tilt head.
Hmmm.
Oh.
...and let the laughter commence and the dark circles under my eyes brighter for a moment.
Pretty sure the contacts would be healthier in the morning, but they would not be cleaner.
Brush teeth.
Feel (slightly) refreshed.
Write blog post.
Think of some bullshit to write for the essay test.
20% of my grade, so it needs to be good bullshit.
Wonder Twins, activate! In the form of: giving a shit!
Almost there....almost there.....
Finals week. 36.5 papers finished out of 37.
Take home essays to finish: 1 set of 2 questions.
Finals taken: 1.
Finals left to take: 2.
Two of those finals are tomorrow.
I really, really need to get an "A" on one of them.
(Feel free to send me all kinds of warm and fuzzy thoughts around 1:00 pm CST.) (Thanks.)
(and then again around 6:00 pm CST.)
(Thanks.)
21 of the papers are due on Thursday at 1:00 pm CST.
They count as a total of 55% of my grade for the semester.
(No pressure.)
Today, my state was hit with another ice/snow storm.
School was not canceled.
I lost three hours of precious study time to go take a final on an undergrad stats class that has nothing to do with my GPA.
I was annoyed as all hell.
Tonight I finished a research paper and I needed to refresh my eyes. So, time to wash the face and brush the teeth, take out the contacts, put on the glasses and start the next round of typing. The take home essays, to be exact.
Take out the contact container from my medicine cabinet.
Grab the container of multi-vitamins, put one in the right contact holder, one in the left contact holder.
Stand and stare at the contact container.
Try and figure out what I did wrong.
Why doesn't that look right?
Tilt head.
Hmmm.
Oh.
...and let the laughter commence and the dark circles under my eyes brighter for a moment.
Pretty sure the contacts would be healthier in the morning, but they would not be cleaner.
Brush teeth.
Feel (slightly) refreshed.
Write blog post.
Think of some bullshit to write for the essay test.
20% of my grade, so it needs to be good bullshit.
Wonder Twins, activate! In the form of: giving a shit!
Almost there....almost there.....
Monday, December 03, 2007
Since last I graced you with my presence
Well, some things have happened, not a lot, but some.
First, jet lag is horrible. Mine seems to be in the evening. I wake-up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and by 10 p.m. I have tears in my eyes and my body and brain are begging for bed.
The jet lag being a result of my trip and my trip being so fast, all I want to do is daydream about my travels and fantasize about my next one. In my fantasies (trip fantasies, not my sexual ones...although...) I have been to: the Croatia coast, the capitals of central Europe via rail, Amsterdam, London and Paris....I really need to focus on the $5,000 I'll need for Brazil. Oh, and the last of my papers which are due this week and next. I have nine left. Nine out of 37....almost there.
Even with the jet lag and an impending ice storm I still managed to go out on Friday night. (and Thursday before class...and...) Live music, the company of good friends, and plenty of my drink of choice; vodka and her girl Cranberry.
Now.
When the label on the bottle, which houses the vodka literally reads "vodka" and nothing else well, the head is going to hurt the next day.
The wonderful night of live music, good friends, and vodka and cranberry ended at a greasy spoon with a few of the friends and a member of the band (who would also drive us home...)
...the morning started with the friend who crashed on the big, ugly, comfy couch waking me up to tell me there was snow on the ground and she needed to make it home.
Opening the door to go outside there was an ominous silence in which the only sound was that of freezing rain. A look at my car and....ick.
After spending about 36 minutes scrapping my windows in time with the little drummer boy who had made himself comfortable in my skull. (And just an FYI, when freezing rain, a.k.a ice, makes its way from car windows and flies (pelts) your face, it hurts. Just FYI.)
A drive to buy sandbags for my trunk, dropping my friend at her car, the buying of some wonderfully greasy food, a nice hot shower and being snowed in...or iced in...for the weekend, I do love a good snow storm when I don't have to be out in it...I enjoyed a wonderfully lazy two days.
On another note, I quit my job. My last day will be this Friday. I am super excited about this.
It wasn't the pay, it wasn't the job, it wasn't the horribly random and not well thought-out assignments; no, it wasn't any of those that made me give my notice. It was the completely random and hateful comments, the condescending remarks from the grad assist, the remarks about my intelligence, the complete ADD moments, and the lack of active listening and the ability to give coherent instructions on how to do my job. I spent most of the last three and a half months trying to take it all as sarcasm...then I just realized it wasn't worth the minimum wage hassle and I quit.
Oh, and my schedule next semester wouldn't work out with my job, although true, that was really just the excuse I gave. Honestly, I just hated it.
On another note: look what Mr. London sent me
Yep. Color me surprised. Just a, "Sorry I missed you in Budapest, hope to see you over Christmas" $80 flower bouquet that I ordered from London.
Okay, I added that last part. That part wasn't on the card. That part just made me feel special.
On another note: I have no attention span to finish the last of the 37 papers or study for the four finals. None. At. All. This needs to change.
On another note: I got nothing else.
Oh wait, yes I do: PTG what happened to your blog?
Okay, that one was a bit specific.
Now. I have nothing else. Except, how are all of you?
First, jet lag is horrible. Mine seems to be in the evening. I wake-up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and by 10 p.m. I have tears in my eyes and my body and brain are begging for bed.
The jet lag being a result of my trip and my trip being so fast, all I want to do is daydream about my travels and fantasize about my next one. In my fantasies (trip fantasies, not my sexual ones...although...) I have been to: the Croatia coast, the capitals of central Europe via rail, Amsterdam, London and Paris....I really need to focus on the $5,000 I'll need for Brazil. Oh, and the last of my papers which are due this week and next. I have nine left. Nine out of 37....almost there.
Even with the jet lag and an impending ice storm I still managed to go out on Friday night. (and Thursday before class...and...) Live music, the company of good friends, and plenty of my drink of choice; vodka and her girl Cranberry.
Now.
When the label on the bottle, which houses the vodka literally reads "vodka" and nothing else well, the head is going to hurt the next day.
The wonderful night of live music, good friends, and vodka and cranberry ended at a greasy spoon with a few of the friends and a member of the band (who would also drive us home...)
...the morning started with the friend who crashed on the big, ugly, comfy couch waking me up to tell me there was snow on the ground and she needed to make it home.
Opening the door to go outside there was an ominous silence in which the only sound was that of freezing rain. A look at my car and....ick.
After spending about 36 minutes scrapping my windows in time with the little drummer boy who had made himself comfortable in my skull. (And just an FYI, when freezing rain, a.k.a ice, makes its way from car windows and flies (pelts) your face, it hurts. Just FYI.)
A drive to buy sandbags for my trunk, dropping my friend at her car, the buying of some wonderfully greasy food, a nice hot shower and being snowed in...or iced in...for the weekend, I do love a good snow storm when I don't have to be out in it...I enjoyed a wonderfully lazy two days.
On another note, I quit my job. My last day will be this Friday. I am super excited about this.
It wasn't the pay, it wasn't the job, it wasn't the horribly random and not well thought-out assignments; no, it wasn't any of those that made me give my notice. It was the completely random and hateful comments, the condescending remarks from the grad assist, the remarks about my intelligence, the complete ADD moments, and the lack of active listening and the ability to give coherent instructions on how to do my job. I spent most of the last three and a half months trying to take it all as sarcasm...then I just realized it wasn't worth the minimum wage hassle and I quit.
Oh, and my schedule next semester wouldn't work out with my job, although true, that was really just the excuse I gave. Honestly, I just hated it.
On another note: look what Mr. London sent me
Yep. Color me surprised. Just a, "Sorry I missed you in Budapest, hope to see you over Christmas" $80 flower bouquet that I ordered from London.
Okay, I added that last part. That part wasn't on the card. That part just made me feel special.
On another note: I have no attention span to finish the last of the 37 papers or study for the four finals. None. At. All. This needs to change.
On another note: I got nothing else.
Oh wait, yes I do: PTG what happened to your blog?
Okay, that one was a bit specific.
Now. I have nothing else. Except, how are all of you?
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