Karl asked me to guest blog over at his place, so I did. (And I did feel special for being asked.) This is the post I wrote. I thought I would share.
We all know words have power. They invoke feelings, memories, images, thoughts. It can be everything from:
I love you. I like you. You disgust me. I hate you. A New York City taxi cab. Fenway Park. Hello. Ugh! I hate math! Strawberry Fields. Greece. Spaghetti sauce. Jelly Beans. Vagina. Penis. Fun parts. Condom.
Every single one of those can be connected to something and invoke a reaction from someone, somewhere. But what I have been finding more and more interesting is the power of words and how, we as a society are changing them and how we are making words more powerful or less powerful by the way we are changing them. I've thought about this for a long time and I've had numerous conversations with people about the topic, but when I really noticed a change within society was during the whole Imus hub-bub. (And no. This isn't going to be about him or what he said.) After he made his comment, and we know all to well what it was, society suddenly started referring to words such as "bitch" as "the b-word." Faggot became "the f-word." Slut became "the s-word." And of course the n-word has been around for sometime. But, by changing something and referring to a word by a letter and then adding "word" to it, are we making it more or less powerful? Are we adding to it or taking the power away from it? Most importantly, do we just look like idiots when we say it?
Words change and evolve over time. Fact of language. Faggot used to refer to fire kindling and later referred to the butt of a cigarette, it has evolved to mean homosexual. How a word goes from one to other, who knows. Slang, maybe? Bitch referred to a female dog, now it means an aggressive or bad-ass female, and it has a typically negative connotation. (Interesting.) I also can't help but wonder what other societies and countries must think of us, but that's a side note. Personally I have a very difficult time saying, nigger. Even during my African-American classes when it was appropriate to say during a discussion I had difficulty. Why? It's just one word. One simple word. What is the big deal? Well, society and my upbringing has taught me it is wrong and hurtful to use that word, therefore I don't. I don't say, bitch around those who I know would find it offensive and the same for the word, fuck. I don't call my gay friends, faggot. I refer to them as "my gays." But even gay has taken on a new meaning. Gay now refers to things that are queer. Queer now means: stupid, lame, dumb, idiotic. Remember when gay used to just mean, happy? And is the "f-word" now going to mean faggot and no longer mean, fuck? And is faggot going to be more offensive to say than the word fuck? Will "fuck" be all over TV and radio, but faggot will go back in the closet?
So, if I have a problem saying, "nigger" and I find saying "the n-word" to be ridiculous I guess I simply have to say, African-American, which perhaps is the point. But, to say "b-word," "s-word," and "f-word?" It just seems idiotic, stupid, and lame. In other words, it just seems queer.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
always the safety girl
Last night I had an econ test.
A very icky econ test.
During the test it was apparent I needed a calculator.
Into my purse I go to fish out the digital-do-dad to help me complete my task.
Finding my calculator I pull it from my purse and place it on the table in front of me. I look down and discover that along with my digital do-hickey I also managed to pull out a condom. (Non-used.)
Yep.
Always the safety girl.
Because everything is about economics when you come right down to it.
Even safe sex.
This public service announcement brought to you by the Federal Reserve and Trojan latex condoms with lubrication.
A very icky econ test.
During the test it was apparent I needed a calculator.
Into my purse I go to fish out the digital-do-dad to help me complete my task.
Finding my calculator I pull it from my purse and place it on the table in front of me. I look down and discover that along with my digital do-hickey I also managed to pull out a condom. (Non-used.)
Yep.
Always the safety girl.
Because everything is about economics when you come right down to it.
Even safe sex.
This public service announcement brought to you by the Federal Reserve and Trojan latex condoms with lubrication.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
inner dork: things that make you go, huh?
All things odd, fascinating, interesting, and that make you tilt your head to the side like my dog does when she is puzzled and cornfused.
Did you know...
Mosquito repellents do not repel. They hide you. (Na-na-na-na. You can't see me.) The spray blocks the mosquito's sensors so they do not know you are there.
(Bzz. Bzz. I can smell the blood, but I cannot see the blood. Bzz. I am so confused.)
(Side note: if you don't like spraying chemicals on you, such as OFF! attach a dryer sheet to a fan (using a clothespin and attaching the sheet to the outer plastic covering) and it naturally repels flys and all things which suck blood (or just suck) Honest. It totally works. Plus, no deadly chemicals on you. Ah. Nice.)
The holes in flyswatters are used to lower air resistance.
(...and that's why I prefer a rolled up newspaper.)
Scotch tape has been used as an anti-corrosive shield on the Goodyear Blimp.
(Wow. Don't know about you, but boy I feel safe knowing that. I mean Scotch tape holds all things that are strong and durable, like paper, so a flying object just makes sense.)
The side of a hammer is called a cheek.
(Which makes sense because it is next to the nose.)
The average woman consumes six pounds of lipstick in her lifetime.
(Burp. I wonder how much Lipsmacker the average women consumes?)
(And how much men consume)
Mixing Sani-Flush and Comet cleaners has been known to cause explosions.
(Raise your hand if you're thinking of testing this one out. C'mon. Limpy, Phollower I see the wheels a turnin'.)
People in China (So, Chinese people) sometimes use firecrackers around their homes as fire alarms.
(*Turns head to the side and says, "huh?"* Can someone explain that one to me?) Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh. Duh. I was totally thinking burglar alarm. Duh. Okay. I got it. Fire would make it go Boom!) (Thanks) (Did I mention I just gradumated?) (And I'm off to grad school?) (Wish me luck.)
Some Eskimos have been known to use refrigerators to keep their food from freezing.
(Okay. Who is picturing a Frigidaire in a ice hut? Uh, who?)
A typical double mattress contains as many as two million house dust mites.
(So how many are in a non-typical mattress?)
(Oh. And ew.)
Did you know...
Mosquito repellents do not repel. They hide you. (Na-na-na-na. You can't see me.) The spray blocks the mosquito's sensors so they do not know you are there.
(Bzz. Bzz. I can smell the blood, but I cannot see the blood. Bzz. I am so confused.)
(Side note: if you don't like spraying chemicals on you, such as OFF! attach a dryer sheet to a fan (using a clothespin and attaching the sheet to the outer plastic covering) and it naturally repels flys and all things which suck blood (or just suck) Honest. It totally works. Plus, no deadly chemicals on you. Ah. Nice.)
The holes in flyswatters are used to lower air resistance.
(...and that's why I prefer a rolled up newspaper.)
Scotch tape has been used as an anti-corrosive shield on the Goodyear Blimp.
(Wow. Don't know about you, but boy I feel safe knowing that. I mean Scotch tape holds all things that are strong and durable, like paper, so a flying object just makes sense.)
The side of a hammer is called a cheek.
(Which makes sense because it is next to the nose.)
The average woman consumes six pounds of lipstick in her lifetime.
(Burp. I wonder how much Lipsmacker the average women consumes?)
(And how much men consume)
Mixing Sani-Flush and Comet cleaners has been known to cause explosions.
(Raise your hand if you're thinking of testing this one out. C'mon. Limpy, Phollower I see the wheels a turnin'.)
People in China (So, Chinese people) sometimes use firecrackers around their homes as fire alarms.
(*Turns head to the side and says, "huh?"* Can someone explain that one to me?) Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhh. Duh. I was totally thinking burglar alarm. Duh. Okay. I got it. Fire would make it go Boom!) (Thanks) (Did I mention I just gradumated?) (And I'm off to grad school?) (Wish me luck.)
Some Eskimos have been known to use refrigerators to keep their food from freezing.
(Okay. Who is picturing a Frigidaire in a ice hut? Uh, who?)
A typical double mattress contains as many as two million house dust mites.
(So how many are in a non-typical mattress?)
(Oh. And ew.)
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
where all my brain cells went
The other day (actually about 9 months ago, but that's not the point of the story and I am feeling all comedian-like) I was listening to the radio and the DJ was talking about the Ramones and seeing them in concert. At the mention of "Ramones" and "concert" my mind wandered off, as it tends to do, and I got to thinking about how cool it would have been to see them in concert. (For those of you who don't know, a few of the Ramones are d-e-a-d. Some of you may argue that they were d-e-a-d to begin with, but keep it to yourself.) Okay. So, I was thinking, "Man. That would have been an awesome concert. Oh well." (I didn't say it was a deep thought I had. It was on the way to work, so it was a early, pre-morning-coffee thought.) Then the DJ mentioned Rage Against the Machine. Again, my mind wanders to, "Wow. Cool. Wish I would-have..." and it goes from there. Then the DJ mentioned Lollapalooza. Then he mentions 1996. Then my mind wanders back to 1996, (Not hard since in my head, for what ever reason, I believe it to be perpetually 1996.) and I realized I was there. Naw. Couldn't have been. Surely I would remember seeing The Ramones and Rage. Naw. That thought process continued for a few minutes. It continued until I remember what 1996 was like for me. It continues until I realize who I was dating and what 1996 was and what all of the Lollapalooza concerts were like for me.
Lollapalooza 1996 consisted of: My boyfriend who is now affectionately known as, Dip Shit, and he sold pot. Lots of pot. Lots and lots and lots of pot. Bricks. Bricks of pot. Pounds. Lots 'o pot. So I was stoned a lot. A LOT. If I wasn't at work or needing to do something productive there was a bowl in my hand and it wasn't of cereal. Well, maybe later in the day it contained cereal. Or brownie batter. Or ice cream. Or spaghetti sauce. Cheese. Something good that triggered the taste buds and never tasted so gooooooood. OKay, so that day (Lollapalooza) consisted of: he and I driving to the concert. Me, tucking an 1/8, it might have even been a 1/4, along the underwire of one boob and the pipe along the underwire of my other boob and then having him feel me up to see if he could feel or detect it. Nope.) (Good boobage.) I also remember making the comment that if they felt me up that good then they owed me something more than a beer. (Much like the airport security guard in Frankfurt). Into the concert we go. Smoke all of the pot and drink beer all day while sitting in a dirt-filled arena all while sitting in the hot, hot sun. Share and pass pot amongst the other concert goers, therefore smoking even more pot. Make numerous trips to the bathroom to pee. Have mad wild dirty (literally) drunken high sex at some point during the afternoon. Return home to take a shower. Go out later that night, and repeat all of the above.
...drift back to present day. Hmmm. Yep. Don't remember any of the bands that played that day, but it was an awesome concert.
Sometime I'll post about the many other concert going experiences. All good. I saw a bunch of up and coming bands when they truly rocked and were actually affordable to see.
Lollapalooza 1996 consisted of: My boyfriend who is now affectionately known as, Dip Shit, and he sold pot. Lots of pot. Lots and lots and lots of pot. Bricks. Bricks of pot. Pounds. Lots 'o pot. So I was stoned a lot. A LOT. If I wasn't at work or needing to do something productive there was a bowl in my hand and it wasn't of cereal. Well, maybe later in the day it contained cereal. Or brownie batter. Or ice cream. Or spaghetti sauce. Cheese. Something good that triggered the taste buds and never tasted so gooooooood. OKay, so that day (Lollapalooza) consisted of: he and I driving to the concert. Me, tucking an 1/8, it might have even been a 1/4, along the underwire of one boob and the pipe along the underwire of my other boob and then having him feel me up to see if he could feel or detect it. Nope.) (Good boobage.) I also remember making the comment that if they felt me up that good then they owed me something more than a beer. (Much like the airport security guard in Frankfurt). Into the concert we go. Smoke all of the pot and drink beer all day while sitting in a dirt-filled arena all while sitting in the hot, hot sun. Share and pass pot amongst the other concert goers, therefore smoking even more pot. Make numerous trips to the bathroom to pee. Have mad wild dirty (literally) drunken high sex at some point during the afternoon. Return home to take a shower. Go out later that night, and repeat all of the above.
...drift back to present day. Hmmm. Yep. Don't remember any of the bands that played that day, but it was an awesome concert.
Sometime I'll post about the many other concert going experiences. All good. I saw a bunch of up and coming bands when they truly rocked and were actually affordable to see.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
just askin'
Does anyone else think, the new reality TV series, "Pirate Master" just sounds like a cheesy porno?
..Or just a porno?
..Or just a porno?
my big, big day
Friday was my big, big day. My interview for grad school, duh. Don't you guys pay attention? Sheesh.
Anywho.
So, I took the day off work, something I never do, had a leisurely morning (what's that?) and then drove up to Medium State U (whoo-hoo!) Stopped at my friend's house (So cool. So married.) and then he went with me to show me where the office and buildings were located.
My big, big interview consisted of: "You have really impressive credentials and we are very happy to have you in our program. We look forward to you joining us in the fall." (Camera turns to focus on me looking like a drunk girl caught in the headlights of an oncoming car and suddenly realizes my mouth is agape. Shut mouth. Say, thank you and I'm looking forward to it as well.)
Jenkies.
Twenty minutes later and I am told what classes I need to take (!) and that I need to talk to the Political Science department to register for two of them because pre-reqs are required, but they are waiving those for me. (Yippee!)
I walk over, register for my classes (13 credits this fall. Eck! Four grad and one undergrad (pre-req, not waived. Poop stain.) my friend gives me a tour of campus and I am off to look at housing.
The grad housing left me feeling dirty and needing a shower in a most desperate and not in a good fun way. More in a, holy hell! They expect me to live in this?!?!?! Type of way. One is about 460 sq ft (for a two-bedroom) and the entire thing is made from cement block (inside and out. Think GI Bill, post WWII, housing.) One is affectionately referred to as "the ant farm" cause that is what it resembles and pretty much how I felt after being inside. (Dirty and crawly.) After being really disappointed with all I decided to look at one that I had no desire to see. Of course. It is awesome. The biggest, cleanest, and when I saw the walk in closet in the master bedroom and I heard the angles sing. (Okay, the angels were me, but still.)
After walking around perusing the town and looking at places I could apply for employment come August, (bars, resturants, art stores, coffee shops, bars, bars, bars, coffee shops) I was feeling pretty good. A night of sitting on the porch drinking beer and talking about all things interesting, political, sexual, asinine, and worldly with my friend; I decided life is pretty good. (Then he told me his wife (who is in China) didn't know I would be staying the night and that he lied to her about me leaving and I was feeling awkward.) Several comments about getting naked and that I should stay in his bed because my room may be too hot, and I wasn't happy with the awkwardness.) (When I told him about my female lovin'- that probably didn't help the situation.)
I came home late Saturday afternoon and went to a family BBQ where no one asked me anything about my big, big weekend. (Whoo.) Wait, my sister-in-law asked me about the housing.(!) Yep. That was it. My mom asked me about my trip literally as I was leaving. (Special.) Not a word was asked until Monday afternoon when my mom called me at work. Aaaand I told her I felt about the lack of asking. She apologized and then asked me all kinds of things. Needless to say, (Why do we say that? If it's needless to say, then just leave it out of the sentence. Note to self.) I have gotten more kudos of awesomeness from all of you and from the people I work with than I have my family. (love, you) But, so it goes.
I go back up this Friday to look at a couple of apartments (hope, hope that they are awesome and what I want.) (Oh, because I am on the wait list for the grad housing where I heard the angels and the chances of me getting into them by August is slim to none.)
So, I have school all lined-up; now I just need shelter and a way to pay for the shelter and all the bills that come with the shelter and it will be all good. Between now and August 11th. That would be awesome.
Anywho.
So, I took the day off work, something I never do, had a leisurely morning (what's that?) and then drove up to Medium State U (whoo-hoo!) Stopped at my friend's house (So cool. So married.) and then he went with me to show me where the office and buildings were located.
My big, big interview consisted of: "You have really impressive credentials and we are very happy to have you in our program. We look forward to you joining us in the fall." (Camera turns to focus on me looking like a drunk girl caught in the headlights of an oncoming car and suddenly realizes my mouth is agape. Shut mouth. Say, thank you and I'm looking forward to it as well.)
Jenkies.
Twenty minutes later and I am told what classes I need to take (!) and that I need to talk to the Political Science department to register for two of them because pre-reqs are required, but they are waiving those for me. (Yippee!)
I walk over, register for my classes (13 credits this fall. Eck! Four grad and one undergrad (pre-req, not waived. Poop stain.) my friend gives me a tour of campus and I am off to look at housing.
The grad housing left me feeling dirty and needing a shower in a most desperate and not in a good fun way. More in a, holy hell! They expect me to live in this?!?!?! Type of way. One is about 460 sq ft (for a two-bedroom) and the entire thing is made from cement block (inside and out. Think GI Bill, post WWII, housing.) One is affectionately referred to as "the ant farm" cause that is what it resembles and pretty much how I felt after being inside. (Dirty and crawly.) After being really disappointed with all I decided to look at one that I had no desire to see. Of course. It is awesome. The biggest, cleanest, and when I saw the walk in closet in the master bedroom and I heard the angles sing. (Okay, the angels were me, but still.)
After walking around perusing the town and looking at places I could apply for employment come August, (bars, resturants, art stores, coffee shops, bars, bars, bars, coffee shops) I was feeling pretty good. A night of sitting on the porch drinking beer and talking about all things interesting, political, sexual, asinine, and worldly with my friend; I decided life is pretty good. (Then he told me his wife (who is in China) didn't know I would be staying the night and that he lied to her about me leaving and I was feeling awkward.) Several comments about getting naked and that I should stay in his bed because my room may be too hot, and I wasn't happy with the awkwardness.) (When I told him about my female lovin'- that probably didn't help the situation.)
I came home late Saturday afternoon and went to a family BBQ where no one asked me anything about my big, big weekend. (Whoo.) Wait, my sister-in-law asked me about the housing.(!) Yep. That was it. My mom asked me about my trip literally as I was leaving. (Special.) Not a word was asked until Monday afternoon when my mom called me at work. Aaaand I told her I felt about the lack of asking. She apologized and then asked me all kinds of things. Needless to say, (Why do we say that? If it's needless to say, then just leave it out of the sentence. Note to self.) I have gotten more kudos of awesomeness from all of you and from the people I work with than I have my family. (love, you) But, so it goes.
I go back up this Friday to look at a couple of apartments (hope, hope that they are awesome and what I want.) (Oh, because I am on the wait list for the grad housing where I heard the angels and the chances of me getting into them by August is slim to none.)
So, I have school all lined-up; now I just need shelter and a way to pay for the shelter and all the bills that come with the shelter and it will be all good. Between now and August 11th. That would be awesome.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
inner dork: lame duck
Whoo-hoo! Is it really time for another inner dork? You bet our lame duck president, it is!
Speaking of lame ducks, let me tell you how that phrase came about. (I know you're just dying to find out and be able to use it in a sentence later today.)
Did you know...
The term is used to describe an elected official who has been defeated, or by law cannot run again, or plans to retire thus their power has been diminished. The phrase apparently originated as slang on the London stock exchange, where it was used to describe a stock jobber or broker who could not make good on his losses and would "waddle out of the alley like a lame duck." (Those Brits, so clever!)
Abe Lincoln is sometimes credited with introducing the phrase to America. (Oh, good 'ol Abe. He was so honest.) When a defeated senator called on Lincoln and asked for a job s commissioner of Indian affairs, Lincoln was quoted as saying afterward, "I usually find that a Senator or Representative out of business is sort of a lame duck." (And sometimes to those who are still in office.) (*cough* Bush.)
Speaking of lame ducks, let me tell you how that phrase came about. (I know you're just dying to find out and be able to use it in a sentence later today.)
Did you know...
The term is used to describe an elected official who has been defeated, or by law cannot run again, or plans to retire thus their power has been diminished. The phrase apparently originated as slang on the London stock exchange, where it was used to describe a stock jobber or broker who could not make good on his losses and would "waddle out of the alley like a lame duck." (Those Brits, so clever!)
Abe Lincoln is sometimes credited with introducing the phrase to America. (Oh, good 'ol Abe. He was so honest.) When a defeated senator called on Lincoln and asked for a job s commissioner of Indian affairs, Lincoln was quoted as saying afterward, "I usually find that a Senator or Representative out of business is sort of a lame duck." (And sometimes to those who are still in office.) (*cough* Bush.)
Monday, June 11, 2007
I's got nothing
Or at least I feel like I have nothing to write about, hence the lack of writing.
Or, maybe I have too much to write about and I don't feel like taking the time to write it all out and explain.
I dunno.
It's definitely one of those.
So. I will give the Cliff notes version of what's up, what's new, what's old, and what's just generally been happening. Or not happening. That's for you to decide.
My "friend" Nick and I no longer talk to each other. Since my birthday disaster cry-fest where I was yelled at and belittled he never apologized nor has he tried to make contact with me. I called him after the incident and we talked for about 2.4 minutes. It is really interesting to see who your friends are in the end.
I finally downloaded the last of my pictures onto flickr. I hope to have the rest of Mykonos and NYC up for you all by the end of the week.
Because I know you're dying to see them.
Since returning from Greece I've been in a funk. Understandable, but blech.
I always knew I wanted to travel, but now I know that it is a need. I need to travel. It is a part of me. It is in me. It is not a want, but a need.
Therefore, I booked a trip to Budapest. I will be there the week of Thanksgiving. I booked it last week.
Mama was not thrilled about that news when I told her last night.
She'll get over it. Slowly, but she will.
The reason she wasn't happy is that her daughter (a.k.a. her only daughter. Her baby girl.) is moving away, thus the news that I wouldn't be home for a major holiday was not welcomed.
I go to my grad school interview with the director of the Public Policy program on Friday. Hopefully by then everything will be finalized and I can start to apply for housing and jobs.
I applied for scholarships and also tuition stipends. Cross fingers, pray to the gods, that those come through for me.
Because I have enough debt.
Between this job being over and grad school starting I will have less than two weeks to move, find a job, and start grad school.
That could be stressful if I let it be.
I am trying really hard not to let it be.
I really wish I wasn't taking classes this summer.
I am uberly burnt out on classes.
But I told them I would.
So. I am.
Although I love my job and the people I interact with everyday, it has become painfully obvious it is time to move on.
So, I am glad the job didn't come through for me.
Life is funny how it works out.
I've been getting regular updates from Mr. London.
I both love his emails.
And hate his emails.
I love hearing from him.
I hate that he loves it there.
This too shall pass.
(That I hate that he loves it there.)
After grad school I plan to join the Peace Corps.
Get back to me in two years, though. My life changes too quickly to really make that a firm commit.
After the 27 month minimum commitment I plan to work for the Peace Corps and eventually start my own organization.
I want to start an organization for women. Teaching them a trade or showing women that the skills they already have can make an income for themselves and for their families.
With the skills and income I hope to show that they then are a valuable contributor to the community and a vital part of the world and to their families, thus they are worth more than the cow on the hierarchy ladder.
I also would like to change the media images and messages women are shown and given here in the U.S. I think we are just as guilty of harming our women and causing permanent damage, we just do it in a much more subtle way.
I would like to start dating again.
Or at least have a boy toy.
But, I don't really want to commit the time and the amazing amounts of effort it takes to find someone who doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out and kick myself in the head.
Plus, I will only be here for another two months.
Plus, the last couple relationships ended because of moves or transfers not coming through, ect. I don't need that drama a third time.
But, I would really like a summer fling.
Dilemmas.
Or, maybe I have too much to write about and I don't feel like taking the time to write it all out and explain.
I dunno.
It's definitely one of those.
So. I will give the Cliff notes version of what's up, what's new, what's old, and what's just generally been happening. Or not happening. That's for you to decide.
My "friend" Nick and I no longer talk to each other. Since my birthday disaster cry-fest where I was yelled at and belittled he never apologized nor has he tried to make contact with me. I called him after the incident and we talked for about 2.4 minutes. It is really interesting to see who your friends are in the end.
I finally downloaded the last of my pictures onto flickr. I hope to have the rest of Mykonos and NYC up for you all by the end of the week.
Because I know you're dying to see them.
Since returning from Greece I've been in a funk. Understandable, but blech.
I always knew I wanted to travel, but now I know that it is a need. I need to travel. It is a part of me. It is in me. It is not a want, but a need.
Therefore, I booked a trip to Budapest. I will be there the week of Thanksgiving. I booked it last week.
Mama was not thrilled about that news when I told her last night.
She'll get over it. Slowly, but she will.
The reason she wasn't happy is that her daughter (a.k.a. her only daughter. Her baby girl.) is moving away, thus the news that I wouldn't be home for a major holiday was not welcomed.
I go to my grad school interview with the director of the Public Policy program on Friday. Hopefully by then everything will be finalized and I can start to apply for housing and jobs.
I applied for scholarships and also tuition stipends. Cross fingers, pray to the gods, that those come through for me.
Because I have enough debt.
Between this job being over and grad school starting I will have less than two weeks to move, find a job, and start grad school.
That could be stressful if I let it be.
I am trying really hard not to let it be.
I really wish I wasn't taking classes this summer.
I am uberly burnt out on classes.
But I told them I would.
So. I am.
Although I love my job and the people I interact with everyday, it has become painfully obvious it is time to move on.
So, I am glad the job didn't come through for me.
Life is funny how it works out.
I've been getting regular updates from Mr. London.
I both love his emails.
And hate his emails.
I love hearing from him.
I hate that he loves it there.
This too shall pass.
(That I hate that he loves it there.)
After grad school I plan to join the Peace Corps.
Get back to me in two years, though. My life changes too quickly to really make that a firm commit.
After the 27 month minimum commitment I plan to work for the Peace Corps and eventually start my own organization.
I want to start an organization for women. Teaching them a trade or showing women that the skills they already have can make an income for themselves and for their families.
With the skills and income I hope to show that they then are a valuable contributor to the community and a vital part of the world and to their families, thus they are worth more than the cow on the hierarchy ladder.
I also would like to change the media images and messages women are shown and given here in the U.S. I think we are just as guilty of harming our women and causing permanent damage, we just do it in a much more subtle way.
I would like to start dating again.
Or at least have a boy toy.
But, I don't really want to commit the time and the amazing amounts of effort it takes to find someone who doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out and kick myself in the head.
Plus, I will only be here for another two months.
Plus, the last couple relationships ended because of moves or transfers not coming through, ect. I don't need that drama a third time.
But, I would really like a summer fling.
Dilemmas.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
inner dork: hodge podge
Hey, you know what? It has been forever since I've had a good dorking. But that's another story for another day. In the meantime, how about some useless trivia!
Did you know...
The word "idiot" comes from Greek and it refers to the time when it was popular/required for all men to take one day out of the year and participate in politics. If someone didn't fulfill this requirement, he was an idiot.
(Hmmmm, I still think the original term is appropriate today.)
When a female rhinoceros is feeling in the mood, she'll ram her potential lover with her horn.
(Because she's horny!)
Ra was the sun god of ancient Egypt.
(All bow down. Actually worshipping the sun makes more sense to me than worshiping an invisible being. But's that's for another day as well.)
One in four women can't remember the names of their past lovers.
(Does it count if you didn't know their name to begin with?)
In ancient Japan, public contests were held to see who could fart the longest and loudest. Winners were held in great acclaim.
(Today that's just called Tuesday.)
One in six adults have admitted to having sex with someone simply because they were too embarrassed to say no.
(ooooooooookay.)
The sound of E.T. walking was made by someone squishing her hands in jelly.
(K-Y or grape?)
Fifty-three percent of women prefer sex with the man on top.
(Wanna guess which percentage I am?) (Hint: Not the 53%.)
It was only after 440 C.E. that December 25 was celebrated as the birth date of Jesus.
(The first department store sale was held the following year.)
All organic compounds contain carbon.
(Which makes dating them SO much easier.)
It takes one fifteen-twenty year old tree to produce seven hundred paper grocery bags.
(Plastic it is.)
The poison arrow frog has enough poison to kill approximately twenty-two hundred people.
(Yaw-za! Frogs in trees, let them be.)
Whew! I feel good and dorked.
You?
Did you know...
The word "idiot" comes from Greek and it refers to the time when it was popular/required for all men to take one day out of the year and participate in politics. If someone didn't fulfill this requirement, he was an idiot.
(Hmmmm, I still think the original term is appropriate today.)
When a female rhinoceros is feeling in the mood, she'll ram her potential lover with her horn.
(Because she's horny!)
Ra was the sun god of ancient Egypt.
(All bow down. Actually worshipping the sun makes more sense to me than worshiping an invisible being. But's that's for another day as well.)
One in four women can't remember the names of their past lovers.
(Does it count if you didn't know their name to begin with?)
In ancient Japan, public contests were held to see who could fart the longest and loudest. Winners were held in great acclaim.
(Today that's just called Tuesday.)
One in six adults have admitted to having sex with someone simply because they were too embarrassed to say no.
(ooooooooookay.)
The sound of E.T. walking was made by someone squishing her hands in jelly.
(K-Y or grape?)
Fifty-three percent of women prefer sex with the man on top.
(Wanna guess which percentage I am?) (Hint: Not the 53%.)
It was only after 440 C.E. that December 25 was celebrated as the birth date of Jesus.
(The first department store sale was held the following year.)
All organic compounds contain carbon.
(Which makes dating them SO much easier.)
It takes one fifteen-twenty year old tree to produce seven hundred paper grocery bags.
(Plastic it is.)
The poison arrow frog has enough poison to kill approximately twenty-two hundred people.
(Yaw-za! Frogs in trees, let them be.)
Whew! I feel good and dorked.
You?
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Um. So, yeah. See. The thing is...
Okay, so I gradumated, right? Just about three weeks ago I was completely finished with school, right? I got my big diploma and all of my debt compounded and consolidated for twenty years at a reasonable interest rate, right?
...
Oh, no. I really did gradumate. No need to go there. Whoa. Wanna talk about livid if that was a hoax.
Anway.
Well, see, here’s the thing. I’m actually taking two classes right now. I know, I know. Believe me, my head is being examined.
Anyway, the reason for this sick and twisted masochistic behavior is because I applied to grad school. In my, you-would-have-to-be-complete-idiots-not-to-accept-and-be-completely-blessed-with-my-presance-and-glowing-(not-to-mention)-winning-personality letter. I told them I would take a couple of the undergrad pre-reqs that I haven’t taken. Thereby making it even harder for them to turn me down.
What are the pre-reqs? Macroeconomics and American National Government.
Oh yeah.
Who has two thumbs and knows how to have an awesome summer?
This girl!
So. I applied. I had to wait for my final transcript to arrive at the Biggish State University and wait...and wait...and... (Well, it wasn’t that bad as I was out of the country, but I wanted to be theatrical.) Last week I received word that they had received all of my shtuff. Yesterday I called and spoke with the department head to see if I had been accepted. He said he has accepted me into the program, buuuuuuut that ultimately it isn’t up to him. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, he didn’t know why I would be turned down. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, it will be about two more weeks before I know for sure.
So.
What does this mean for me?
More stress and an uncertain future for a few more weeks. (But really, are any of our futures certain?) And when I am accepted I will be moving. Moving away to go to Biggish State University, which also means I will be leaving my job. Sad, but it’s time.
Oh. I suppose you all might want to know the program to which I have applied? Master’s in Public Policy. I pretty much plan to rule the world. Just lettin’ you all know ahead of time.
...
Oh, no. I really did gradumate. No need to go there. Whoa. Wanna talk about livid if that was a hoax.
Anway.
Well, see, here’s the thing. I’m actually taking two classes right now. I know, I know. Believe me, my head is being examined.
Anyway, the reason for this sick and twisted masochistic behavior is because I applied to grad school. In my, you-would-have-to-be-complete-idiots-not-to-accept-and-be-completely-blessed-with-my-presance-and-glowing-(not-to-mention)-winning-personality letter. I told them I would take a couple of the undergrad pre-reqs that I haven’t taken. Thereby making it even harder for them to turn me down.
What are the pre-reqs? Macroeconomics and American National Government.
Oh yeah.
Who has two thumbs and knows how to have an awesome summer?
This girl!
So. I applied. I had to wait for my final transcript to arrive at the Biggish State University and wait...and wait...and... (Well, it wasn’t that bad as I was out of the country, but I wanted to be theatrical.) Last week I received word that they had received all of my shtuff. Yesterday I called and spoke with the department head to see if I had been accepted. He said he has accepted me into the program, buuuuuuut that ultimately it isn’t up to him. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, he didn’t know why I would be turned down. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, it will be about two more weeks before I know for sure.
So.
What does this mean for me?
More stress and an uncertain future for a few more weeks. (But really, are any of our futures certain?) And when I am accepted I will be moving. Moving away to go to Biggish State University, which also means I will be leaving my job. Sad, but it’s time.
Oh. I suppose you all might want to know the program to which I have applied? Master’s in Public Policy. I pretty much plan to rule the world. Just lettin’ you all know ahead of time.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
everything but nip
Conversation with someone in the office.
"I love it when you do that." He says with his eyes focused directly on my cleavage. I look down at my chest and discover I am showing everything but nip.
I immediately sit up straight in my office chair and laugh as I pull up my baby doll tank top. "I honestly had no idea I was doing that."
"You do that about three or four times a day. It's like they get to be too much for you and you just need to rest them on the desk."
"I'm not resting them on the desk. I'm thinking deep thoughts...and just being lazy all hunched over in my chair ."
"I never said I mind."
Today, same person, different conversation.
"I would just like to say how disappointed I am with your selection of tops today."
T-shirt, no cleve.
"I was going to wear a similar top as yesterday, and do the everything but nip bit again, but I decided I need to mix it up and keep it surprising."
"You just want to keep your adoring fans around you."
"Pretty much."
"I love it when you do that." He says with his eyes focused directly on my cleavage. I look down at my chest and discover I am showing everything but nip.
I immediately sit up straight in my office chair and laugh as I pull up my baby doll tank top. "I honestly had no idea I was doing that."
"You do that about three or four times a day. It's like they get to be too much for you and you just need to rest them on the desk."
"I'm not resting them on the desk. I'm thinking deep thoughts...and just being lazy all hunched over in my chair ."
"I never said I mind."
Today, same person, different conversation.
"I would just like to say how disappointed I am with your selection of tops today."
T-shirt, no cleve.
"I was going to wear a similar top as yesterday, and do the everything but nip bit again, but I decided I need to mix it up and keep it surprising."
"You just want to keep your adoring fans around you."
"Pretty much."
Monday, June 04, 2007
deep like a puddle
Saturday night I went out to dinner with a co-worker. It was a very nice dinner in an up-scale establishment. However, the night ended too early for me and I decided to hit a few bars on my way home for a few more cocktails.
Bar number one I've been to a few times, but apparently on Saturday night it turns into a dance club. A country dance club. A place where they take their yee-haws and line dancing seriously. I could not take it seriously. I could only sit at the bar and be embarrassed for those who were taking it seriously. One cocktail down and I was out the door.
Bar number two is a small (blue-collar, neighborhood) establishment. I walk in and find an empty spot at the bar and order a drink. In the course of sipping my beverage I take a gander around the place. I am one out of four females in the place. Two of the other females are the bartenders and the third woman is married and not on the slim or attractive side. I suddenly feel very watched. But, I can deal with this. Just let me drink my beverage and enjoy the night.
...
..
(Sigh)
The man to my left moves a bar stool away from me as soon as I sit down (I must have cooties.) I turn and smile at him and I go back to my beverage. Several minutes later I still feel his eyes on me (creepy.) I again, turn and smile at him and go back to my beverage.
Several minutes later he turns to me and says, "I need to tell you that you are a very attractive woman and you have amazing eyebrows. But I have a girlfriend" Only he says it like this, "IneedtotellyouthatyouareaveryattractivewomanandyouhaveamazingeyebrowsbutIhaveagirlfriend." and then like Flash Gordon, he is gone (zoom!)
Um. Thanks.
Then I have a man to my right who is trying to make conversation with me. I am trying to ignore him. Why? Because the conversation is very one-sided (his) and he is drunk (very.)
New man to my left is also talking to me. Conversation is better, but still one-sided (his) and he is not drunk (yet.)
I now have my back to the drunk man, but he isn't getting my subtly as he keeps pinching my elbow and poking my arm (that's the way to make friends and influence people) to get me to turn back to him. I (politely) answer his questions then (subtly) turn my back on him.
New man is engaging me in conversation (his) and buying me drinks (yah!) Drunk man pinches my elbow one last time (it's like a bad tennis match) and asks if he can take me to dinner this week. I (politely) tell him no. He (drunkenly, complete with slurred and pronounced speech) asks why. I tell him because he is very (sloppy) drunk and chances are he won't remember who I am or that we even had this conversation in the morning, so thank you, but I am going to have to say no. He (slurriedly) refutes my claim that he won't remember this conversation in the morning, but doesn't refute the claim that he is drunk. He then continues to talk to me while my back is turned and I have stopped trying to be subtle. (Mean? Perhaps. But do you blame me?)
New guy is at least not drunk, but keeps pointing out how talkative he is and how he is ruling the conversation. Yet he doesn't let me get a word in nor does he offer any questions to me. In fact he didn't even ask me my name until we were hopping off our bar stools and walking out the door. After the bar closes I thank him for the drink and I shake his hand good-bye in the parking lot. (Polite.)
On my way home I stop at the local Gas and Sip for a greasy hot dog (Never, ever a good idea.) I notice one of the men outside the doors, as one of the gentleman I spoke to briefly in the bar (I would have liked to actually speak with him, but drunk man and talky man made that impossible.) As I get out of my car he asks if I am following him. I tell him I thought he was waiting for me. A few more flirts as I walk inside. I buy the (never, ever a good idea hot dog) and leave. A few more flirts later and I get in my car and I leave him with a wink and a smile as a good-bye.
That was the highlight of my evening.
God damn I miss Greece.
Bar number one I've been to a few times, but apparently on Saturday night it turns into a dance club. A country dance club. A place where they take their yee-haws and line dancing seriously. I could not take it seriously. I could only sit at the bar and be embarrassed for those who were taking it seriously. One cocktail down and I was out the door.
Bar number two is a small (blue-collar, neighborhood) establishment. I walk in and find an empty spot at the bar and order a drink. In the course of sipping my beverage I take a gander around the place. I am one out of four females in the place. Two of the other females are the bartenders and the third woman is married and not on the slim or attractive side. I suddenly feel very watched. But, I can deal with this. Just let me drink my beverage and enjoy the night.
...
..
(Sigh)
The man to my left moves a bar stool away from me as soon as I sit down (I must have cooties.) I turn and smile at him and I go back to my beverage. Several minutes later I still feel his eyes on me (creepy.) I again, turn and smile at him and go back to my beverage.
Several minutes later he turns to me and says, "I need to tell you that you are a very attractive woman and you have amazing eyebrows. But I have a girlfriend" Only he says it like this, "IneedtotellyouthatyouareaveryattractivewomanandyouhaveamazingeyebrowsbutIhaveagirlfriend." and then like Flash Gordon, he is gone (zoom!)
Um. Thanks.
Then I have a man to my right who is trying to make conversation with me. I am trying to ignore him. Why? Because the conversation is very one-sided (his) and he is drunk (very.)
New man to my left is also talking to me. Conversation is better, but still one-sided (his) and he is not drunk (yet.)
I now have my back to the drunk man, but he isn't getting my subtly as he keeps pinching my elbow and poking my arm (that's the way to make friends and influence people) to get me to turn back to him. I (politely) answer his questions then (subtly) turn my back on him.
New man is engaging me in conversation (his) and buying me drinks (yah!) Drunk man pinches my elbow one last time (it's like a bad tennis match) and asks if he can take me to dinner this week. I (politely) tell him no. He (drunkenly, complete with slurred and pronounced speech) asks why. I tell him because he is very (sloppy) drunk and chances are he won't remember who I am or that we even had this conversation in the morning, so thank you, but I am going to have to say no. He (slurriedly) refutes my claim that he won't remember this conversation in the morning, but doesn't refute the claim that he is drunk. He then continues to talk to me while my back is turned and I have stopped trying to be subtle. (Mean? Perhaps. But do you blame me?)
New guy is at least not drunk, but keeps pointing out how talkative he is and how he is ruling the conversation. Yet he doesn't let me get a word in nor does he offer any questions to me. In fact he didn't even ask me my name until we were hopping off our bar stools and walking out the door. After the bar closes I thank him for the drink and I shake his hand good-bye in the parking lot. (Polite.)
On my way home I stop at the local Gas and Sip for a greasy hot dog (Never, ever a good idea.) I notice one of the men outside the doors, as one of the gentleman I spoke to briefly in the bar (I would have liked to actually speak with him, but drunk man and talky man made that impossible.) As I get out of my car he asks if I am following him. I tell him I thought he was waiting for me. A few more flirts as I walk inside. I buy the (never, ever a good idea hot dog) and leave. A few more flirts later and I get in my car and I leave him with a wink and a smile as a good-bye.
That was the highlight of my evening.
God damn I miss Greece.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
unsecure security
I'm sure most of you have heard the big news story about the guy who apparently didn't know he had a prescription resistant strain of TB and went on his scheduled marriage and honeymoon in Europe thus perhaps putting hundreds of lives at risk. He is now under a guard lock-down quarantine. I know, I know. He hadn't gotten the test results back and he swears he felt fine and best of all he wasn't even coughing while on his trip.
Whatever.
The new news coverage is about airport security and how a person in his (apparent) state of health could have even gotten on the plane in the first place.
Let me tell you how: security is none-existent and I'm pretty sure the security personal are under-paid, over-staffed, poorly fed, disgruntled, and simply following some sort of government protocol that no one really understands or even cares about.
I was going to do a write-up on the many airports I visited and list the best and worst in terms of security, friendliness, cleanliness, bathrooms, and what they have to offer fellow travelers in terms of food and entertainment and such. Well, why wait. I'll do it now.
Home state was the friendliest, cleanliest, and most willing to help a confused and nervous traveler. Then again I was at home state's airport at 4:30 a.m. so perhaps they were just fresh and clean from a good night sleep and hadn't been through the hell of a day yet.
Detroit: Definitely the coolest in terms of neon lights and distractions to keep a stressed person in a stoned and awe struck zone.
Friendliness: The Starbuck girl was lovely. The ticket counter person, not so much.
Security: Not sure as it was a transfer.
Bathrooms: Disgusting and small. Barely room for a person let alone for a person with luggage. I'm also guessing the last time they were cleaned, and don't let the trash can, bucket, and mop fool you, was around 1986. Ew.
JFK (I was there four times): What a joke. By far the most lax security I encountered and I was there four times both for domestic and international travel. Detroit-JFK, JFK-Frankfurt, Frankfurt-JFK, JFK-Boston. The thing they seemed most upset about on the international flight was that I had stepped over the yellow line while waiting in line. My bad.
When I stepped over the yellow line (when it was safe to do so) and showed the man my boarding pass and passport I kindly asked him how he was. His response: "I hate my job and I'm having a horrible day, but I'm glad you're having a good day." (Smell the sarcasm on the last sentence. It's pungent.)
Safely past him I then went to the carry-on security. I put my bag on the floor to get all of my oh-so-dangerous liquids that were safely under 3oz. We were chatting with each other and I then start to go through security when she asks if she has seen my boarding pass. I tell her she had and she gives me the okay to go through. Now, I had shown her my boarding pass, but really, should she take my word for it?
Customs: He didn't even look at me. He opened my passport, stamped it, and sent me on my way. It was so fast I asked if that was all. He assured me it was. Apparently I am not a threat nor do I look threatening. This is a good thing.
Domestically: I was pretty much breezed through security.
Shopping: A lot of high-end stores.
Food: Not a lot of variety and of course, expensive.
As I was 5.5 hours delayed in Frankfurt I missed my hotel and "slept" in JFK. However, I had (or wanted to) get to the terminal for my connecting flight. Luckily I had met two men who missed their flight to London so we trekked to the terminal together. The terminal was shut down due to construction and we were locked outside. That would be outside of the airport at 2 a.m. The helpful maintenance workers said we needed to walk around.
Walk around we did. I made the comment to one of the displaced travelers that I felt like I was Steve Martin in "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles."
Bathrooms: Not clean. I didn't really want to touch anything. However, after spending the night at JFK I most certainly had to. I took a "shower" in the sink and there was apparently only one stall that anyone was willing to use and it was behind me and my sink bath.
Also, on all my domestic flights there were announcements that the security alert had been raised to orange, but there wasn't any indication as to why or when. Personally I feel the whole alert system is a joke and nothing more than the government pretending to do something and to constantly remind us of 9/11, but that's just me.
Frankfurt (I was there twice): Good god whatever you do, don't mess around or smile in Frankfurt. I had 45 minutes to get from gate 12 to gate 42. There were only 44 gates in the airport and go through security. Oy.
All metal items need to be placed in the tray. Walk through the metal detector and each person is also gone over with a wand. The pat down and metal detecting wand was so thorough I needed a cigarette afterwards. I accidentally left a bottle of water in my purse. I realized my mistake as soon as I put the purse in the tray and it was going down the conveyor. I was pulled to the side. My bags were searched and when the devious and dangerous water bottle was found I was told to drink it. When I declined, I was again told to drink it. I took the bottle, but didn't drink from it. I was then, very forcibly, told to drink it. I obeyed. As I was drinking the hot and gross plane water it was ripped from my hand and thrown away. I really believe Mr. Frankfurt security guard was sad I didn't die from the hot and disgusting plane water.
Friendliness: Return flight was better than going, but don't expect smiles.
Bathrooms: Um, Yeah. There was a thorough hand washing afterwards.
Flight/plane: going, it was awesome. The flight crew was exceptional, then again it wasn't a full flight and perhaps they were able to give extra attention and care to everyone. Coming back it was horrible. The flight was nice, but there was a 5.5 hour delay and everyone pretty much had to fend for themselves in terms of water and such. Also, the delay was because the air conditioning was broken and it took several hours before they opened the doors to let some air in and then for whatever reason they were closed again. I was so parched and thirsty by the time I arrived in JFK I would have committed sins for some tasteless clear liquid.
Ease of getting to and fro: Bad. Moving sidewalks that last for only about 50 feet and too many people simply standing in the narrow walkway to try and pass one another.
Athens (I was there four times): No big deal. Check-in, check-out, put bags and liquids in a tray, walk through the metal detector.
Bathrooms: clean.
Friendliness: Eh, not overly so, not underly so.
Shops: A decent selection of places to shop and to eat.
Mykonos: I was only dropped off...the airport was pretty much empty except for my flight that had just arrived.
Santorini: For a smaller airport the security was pretty good.
Bathrooms: Funny moment: Hands are lathered up I go to wash off the soap and....where's the water? Where's the faucet? Why isn't the water coming out of the faucet? I'm moving my hands under the faucet because I think it must be a laser sensor. I'm looking all over the place. This is going on for a few minutes and a few people have walked in to the bathroom and I've asked them for help. They either don't understand me or they simply are mean, because no one helped me. I'm truly starting to panic at this point. I can't get on the plane with white foamy soapy hands. SOMEBODY HELP ME! A lady then points to the floor. Oh. There is a button on the floor that I need to step on to activate the water. Clever!
Shops: There are a variety of shops and places to eat.
Boston (I was there twice): Security was standard. Basically if a person either doesn't have any dangerous liquids 3oz or under they are pretty much safe and secure to board the plane.
Friendliness: Information desk was most helpful.
Cleanliness: Spotless and I was there both in the a.m. and the p.m.
Shops and such: A wide range and variety.
Ease of getting to and fro: No problem. Drop off and pick-up is a bit congested, but that is to be expected.
Minnesota: Security: Don't know as it was a transfer.
Friendliness: The staff was a bit stressed because of delays and such.
Cleanliness: Spotless.
Shops and such: Whether a person would want a meal, or face soap, stamps, or a hunting license, a stuffed animal, or a beer just go to the airport. The place had everything to the point of ridiculousness...everything.
Ease of getting to and fro: I had to go from Gate C to Gate G in terms of the alphabet that doesn't seem far. In terms of an airport, it's a long ass way to go. However, there wasn't a problem. Many moving sidewalks to help with luggage and tired travelers. Many massage chairs to ease tired and sore muscles.
I realize I haven't been everywhere. However, in terms of recently traveled planes, flights, persons, and airports I think this is a pretty good range of what to expect which is that unless it's Frankfurt, security isn't secure.
Whatever.
The new news coverage is about airport security and how a person in his (apparent) state of health could have even gotten on the plane in the first place.
Let me tell you how: security is none-existent and I'm pretty sure the security personal are under-paid, over-staffed, poorly fed, disgruntled, and simply following some sort of government protocol that no one really understands or even cares about.
I was going to do a write-up on the many airports I visited and list the best and worst in terms of security, friendliness, cleanliness, bathrooms, and what they have to offer fellow travelers in terms of food and entertainment and such. Well, why wait. I'll do it now.
Home state was the friendliest, cleanliest, and most willing to help a confused and nervous traveler. Then again I was at home state's airport at 4:30 a.m. so perhaps they were just fresh and clean from a good night sleep and hadn't been through the hell of a day yet.
Detroit: Definitely the coolest in terms of neon lights and distractions to keep a stressed person in a stoned and awe struck zone.
Friendliness: The Starbuck girl was lovely. The ticket counter person, not so much.
Security: Not sure as it was a transfer.
Bathrooms: Disgusting and small. Barely room for a person let alone for a person with luggage. I'm also guessing the last time they were cleaned, and don't let the trash can, bucket, and mop fool you, was around 1986. Ew.
JFK (I was there four times): What a joke. By far the most lax security I encountered and I was there four times both for domestic and international travel. Detroit-JFK, JFK-Frankfurt, Frankfurt-JFK, JFK-Boston. The thing they seemed most upset about on the international flight was that I had stepped over the yellow line while waiting in line. My bad.
When I stepped over the yellow line (when it was safe to do so) and showed the man my boarding pass and passport I kindly asked him how he was. His response: "I hate my job and I'm having a horrible day, but I'm glad you're having a good day." (Smell the sarcasm on the last sentence. It's pungent.)
Safely past him I then went to the carry-on security. I put my bag on the floor to get all of my oh-so-dangerous liquids that were safely under 3oz. We were chatting with each other and I then start to go through security when she asks if she has seen my boarding pass. I tell her she had and she gives me the okay to go through. Now, I had shown her my boarding pass, but really, should she take my word for it?
Customs: He didn't even look at me. He opened my passport, stamped it, and sent me on my way. It was so fast I asked if that was all. He assured me it was. Apparently I am not a threat nor do I look threatening. This is a good thing.
Domestically: I was pretty much breezed through security.
Shopping: A lot of high-end stores.
Food: Not a lot of variety and of course, expensive.
As I was 5.5 hours delayed in Frankfurt I missed my hotel and "slept" in JFK. However, I had (or wanted to) get to the terminal for my connecting flight. Luckily I had met two men who missed their flight to London so we trekked to the terminal together. The terminal was shut down due to construction and we were locked outside. That would be outside of the airport at 2 a.m. The helpful maintenance workers said we needed to walk around.
Walk around we did. I made the comment to one of the displaced travelers that I felt like I was Steve Martin in "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles."
Bathrooms: Not clean. I didn't really want to touch anything. However, after spending the night at JFK I most certainly had to. I took a "shower" in the sink and there was apparently only one stall that anyone was willing to use and it was behind me and my sink bath.
Also, on all my domestic flights there were announcements that the security alert had been raised to orange, but there wasn't any indication as to why or when. Personally I feel the whole alert system is a joke and nothing more than the government pretending to do something and to constantly remind us of 9/11, but that's just me.
Frankfurt (I was there twice): Good god whatever you do, don't mess around or smile in Frankfurt. I had 45 minutes to get from gate 12 to gate 42. There were only 44 gates in the airport and go through security. Oy.
All metal items need to be placed in the tray. Walk through the metal detector and each person is also gone over with a wand. The pat down and metal detecting wand was so thorough I needed a cigarette afterwards. I accidentally left a bottle of water in my purse. I realized my mistake as soon as I put the purse in the tray and it was going down the conveyor. I was pulled to the side. My bags were searched and when the devious and dangerous water bottle was found I was told to drink it. When I declined, I was again told to drink it. I took the bottle, but didn't drink from it. I was then, very forcibly, told to drink it. I obeyed. As I was drinking the hot and gross plane water it was ripped from my hand and thrown away. I really believe Mr. Frankfurt security guard was sad I didn't die from the hot and disgusting plane water.
Friendliness: Return flight was better than going, but don't expect smiles.
Bathrooms: Um, Yeah. There was a thorough hand washing afterwards.
Flight/plane: going, it was awesome. The flight crew was exceptional, then again it wasn't a full flight and perhaps they were able to give extra attention and care to everyone. Coming back it was horrible. The flight was nice, but there was a 5.5 hour delay and everyone pretty much had to fend for themselves in terms of water and such. Also, the delay was because the air conditioning was broken and it took several hours before they opened the doors to let some air in and then for whatever reason they were closed again. I was so parched and thirsty by the time I arrived in JFK I would have committed sins for some tasteless clear liquid.
Ease of getting to and fro: Bad. Moving sidewalks that last for only about 50 feet and too many people simply standing in the narrow walkway to try and pass one another.
Athens (I was there four times): No big deal. Check-in, check-out, put bags and liquids in a tray, walk through the metal detector.
Bathrooms: clean.
Friendliness: Eh, not overly so, not underly so.
Shops: A decent selection of places to shop and to eat.
Mykonos: I was only dropped off...the airport was pretty much empty except for my flight that had just arrived.
Santorini: For a smaller airport the security was pretty good.
Bathrooms: Funny moment: Hands are lathered up I go to wash off the soap and....where's the water? Where's the faucet? Why isn't the water coming out of the faucet? I'm moving my hands under the faucet because I think it must be a laser sensor. I'm looking all over the place. This is going on for a few minutes and a few people have walked in to the bathroom and I've asked them for help. They either don't understand me or they simply are mean, because no one helped me. I'm truly starting to panic at this point. I can't get on the plane with white foamy soapy hands. SOMEBODY HELP ME! A lady then points to the floor. Oh. There is a button on the floor that I need to step on to activate the water. Clever!
Shops: There are a variety of shops and places to eat.
Boston (I was there twice): Security was standard. Basically if a person either doesn't have any dangerous liquids 3oz or under they are pretty much safe and secure to board the plane.
Friendliness: Information desk was most helpful.
Cleanliness: Spotless and I was there both in the a.m. and the p.m.
Shops and such: A wide range and variety.
Ease of getting to and fro: No problem. Drop off and pick-up is a bit congested, but that is to be expected.
Minnesota: Security: Don't know as it was a transfer.
Friendliness: The staff was a bit stressed because of delays and such.
Cleanliness: Spotless.
Shops and such: Whether a person would want a meal, or face soap, stamps, or a hunting license, a stuffed animal, or a beer just go to the airport. The place had everything to the point of ridiculousness...everything.
Ease of getting to and fro: I had to go from Gate C to Gate G in terms of the alphabet that doesn't seem far. In terms of an airport, it's a long ass way to go. However, there wasn't a problem. Many moving sidewalks to help with luggage and tired travelers. Many massage chairs to ease tired and sore muscles.
I realize I haven't been everywhere. However, in terms of recently traveled planes, flights, persons, and airports I think this is a pretty good range of what to expect which is that unless it's Frankfurt, security isn't secure.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
(some) pictures from (part) of my trip
I am (slowly) (very slowly) getting all of my pictures downloaded onto flickr. If flickr would let a person download more than six pictures at a time it would go much faster. Just a guess. (Or if I didn't have four hundred pictures to download I would already be finished.
Anyway.
Here are some of the pictures. I will try to get the rest of them on here shortly as well as some of the stories I do have to tell.
I already miss it.
(sigh.)
Fenway Park
Boston: North End
Athens: Lunch in the Palka
Athens: Archaeological Museum
Athens: The Streets of the Palka I was told by GirlGoyle that Athens is: big, expensive, and dirty. I completely agree with that statement. Take New York, times it by 10 add more dirt and pollution and that was my impression of Athens.
Athens: Zeus' Temple
Santorini: Volcano hike and boat cruise
Santorini: Fira
Mykonos
Delos
I will try to get the rest of my trip and pictures and stories up in the next week. (I am going in reverse. Boston was at the end of my trip and Delos was my last day in Mykonos.)
I still can't believe I went and I really can't believe I came back. (Seriously.) However, every time the wind blows I feel like I am back on the islands. Lovely.
Anyway.
Here are some of the pictures. I will try to get the rest of them on here shortly as well as some of the stories I do have to tell.
I already miss it.
(sigh.)
Fenway Park
Boston: North End
Athens: Lunch in the Palka
Athens: Archaeological Museum
Athens: The Streets of the Palka I was told by GirlGoyle that Athens is: big, expensive, and dirty. I completely agree with that statement. Take New York, times it by 10 add more dirt and pollution and that was my impression of Athens.
Athens: Zeus' Temple
Santorini: Volcano hike and boat cruise
Santorini: Fira
Mykonos
Delos
I will try to get the rest of my trip and pictures and stories up in the next week. (I am going in reverse. Boston was at the end of my trip and Delos was my last day in Mykonos.)
I still can't believe I went and I really can't believe I came back. (Seriously.) However, every time the wind blows I feel like I am back on the islands. Lovely.
Monday, May 28, 2007
oh yeah. I gradumatated
On May 19th to be exact.
I didn't attend the ceremony because of the hellish college experience at Small Private Expensive College and also because I was still sleeping when the ceremony was taking place. Ah, jet-lag.
Anyway. Yep. My head is officially over-edumacated and full of tons, of what I am sure will some day become useful kanowledge that has cost way too much money. However, my GPA was pretty decent, (3.481) not my goal, but all things considered (130 credits in two years, full-time job, two part-time jobs, a knack for going out.) (My goal was no less than 3.6, and I had maintained a 3.8 up until this last fall.) I should stop my bellyaching and just be glad it's over.
Ta Dah!
I didn't attend the ceremony because of the hellish college experience at Small Private Expensive College and also because I was still sleeping when the ceremony was taking place. Ah, jet-lag.
Anyway. Yep. My head is officially over-edumacated and full of tons, of what I am sure will some day become useful kanowledge that has cost way too much money. However, my GPA was pretty decent, (3.481) not my goal, but all things considered (130 credits in two years, full-time job, two part-time jobs, a knack for going out.) (My goal was no less than 3.6, and I had maintained a 3.8 up until this last fall.) I should stop my bellyaching and just be glad it's over.
Ta Dah!
Monday, May 21, 2007
world traveler of airports
After two glorious weeks, I am back. Sadly. I can't believe I actually packed my bags and came home. Seriously.
I had an amazing, amazing time.
The first words after, "Welcome home, World Traveler" from my brothers and sister-in-law was, "...did you get laid?" I don't know whether to find those words, disturbing or telling. Either way, I didn't answer it. To which they all noticed. I will say that a single gal in Greece doesn't stay single for very long. The men are interesting to say the least, and I sadly discovered that Greek moves are the same as American moves. I'm pretty sure the first English words they learn are: "You are very beautiful, come back to my apartment, and I can drive you home." (Just a guess.) I received one marriage proposal, more hilarious than romantic, and learned to say, "I need to ask my husband." to the local male perveyors of shops who wanted to bargain and sell me their wears.
New York was fun. The weather wasn't the greatest when I was there, but I had a blast nonetheless. The Yankee game was cold, but a good time. I actually hurt my foot the first day of my trip. Something about walking from my hotel on E 51st all the way to 42nd street, all through Time Square and Broadway, back again and onto some side streets. However, I didn't let it stop me or slow me down during my trip. I walked everywhere and anywhere in all places and enjoyed every glorious and delicious second of it.
Mykonos was amazing and breathtakingly beautiful and my hotel was literally right on the beach. Man, that was tough. By far my favorite place on the trip.
Santorini was marvelous and I climbed to the top of a volcano and dove into the cold, cold sea without a second thought of the temperature or of what might be swimming underneath me.
Athens was big and bustling. Frustrating moment: the metro was on strike my second day there so I hoofed it from one end to the other...literally.
Boston is my kind of town and I need to go back this summer when the weather is nicer. (Very cold and rainy.) Fenway Park and Red Sox fans, what to say, but I loved every freezing second of it.
I found the town to be very laid back, very welcoming, and I drank a few pints in the hopes that it would warm me up. You know the theory: cold beer, warm thoughts.
After seventeen airports, nineteen planes (two planes were broken. If it is between a delay or flying in a broken plane, I will take the delay every time.)(That figure it no exaggeration. Seriously, it was that many. I was SO very sick of my luggage and security.) A odd moment with security in Frankfurt, in which I think the guard was sad I didn't die. Four hundred and seventy-two pictures I am still uploading onto my flickr account, and many misadventures, and many stories to tell, I am already dreaming of my next trip abroad. However, Greece and the islands are still very much in my heart and in my mind. Truly, truly wonderful. Absolutely my solace.
I will post more and tell some of the stories and post the pictures in the very near future.
My summer is already proving interesting and it will only become more so as it passes through the heat and humidity of the next several warm and breezy days and nights.
I had an amazing, amazing time.
The first words after, "Welcome home, World Traveler" from my brothers and sister-in-law was, "...did you get laid?" I don't know whether to find those words, disturbing or telling. Either way, I didn't answer it. To which they all noticed. I will say that a single gal in Greece doesn't stay single for very long. The men are interesting to say the least, and I sadly discovered that Greek moves are the same as American moves. I'm pretty sure the first English words they learn are: "You are very beautiful, come back to my apartment, and I can drive you home." (Just a guess.) I received one marriage proposal, more hilarious than romantic, and learned to say, "I need to ask my husband." to the local male perveyors of shops who wanted to bargain and sell me their wears.
New York was fun. The weather wasn't the greatest when I was there, but I had a blast nonetheless. The Yankee game was cold, but a good time. I actually hurt my foot the first day of my trip. Something about walking from my hotel on E 51st all the way to 42nd street, all through Time Square and Broadway, back again and onto some side streets. However, I didn't let it stop me or slow me down during my trip. I walked everywhere and anywhere in all places and enjoyed every glorious and delicious second of it.
Mykonos was amazing and breathtakingly beautiful and my hotel was literally right on the beach. Man, that was tough. By far my favorite place on the trip.
Santorini was marvelous and I climbed to the top of a volcano and dove into the cold, cold sea without a second thought of the temperature or of what might be swimming underneath me.
Athens was big and bustling. Frustrating moment: the metro was on strike my second day there so I hoofed it from one end to the other...literally.
Boston is my kind of town and I need to go back this summer when the weather is nicer. (Very cold and rainy.) Fenway Park and Red Sox fans, what to say, but I loved every freezing second of it.
I found the town to be very laid back, very welcoming, and I drank a few pints in the hopes that it would warm me up. You know the theory: cold beer, warm thoughts.
After seventeen airports, nineteen planes (two planes were broken. If it is between a delay or flying in a broken plane, I will take the delay every time.)(That figure it no exaggeration. Seriously, it was that many. I was SO very sick of my luggage and security.) A odd moment with security in Frankfurt, in which I think the guard was sad I didn't die. Four hundred and seventy-two pictures I am still uploading onto my flickr account, and many misadventures, and many stories to tell, I am already dreaming of my next trip abroad. However, Greece and the islands are still very much in my heart and in my mind. Truly, truly wonderful. Absolutely my solace.
I will post more and tell some of the stories and post the pictures in the very near future.
My summer is already proving interesting and it will only become more so as it passes through the heat and humidity of the next several warm and breezy days and nights.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
for everything else, there's visa
Tonight is my last class of my undergrad career. Tomorrow I pack. Saturday I leave on a early morning plane for destinations out of my home state. Color me glowing with anticipation.
One round-trip ticket from home state, to Detroit Rock-City, to NYC to Boston, back to home state =$327.00.
A steal of a deal for a hotel for the weekend in the heart of Midtown Manhattan = $400.00.
Seats on the first base line at a Sunday afternoon Yankee game =$66.00.
Eight nights in Greece. Including three nights in Mykonos, three nights in Santorini, two nights in Athens, including airfare, hotel accommodations, and day-trip excursions= $2,414.64.
One night in a two-star hotel in Jamaica Queens, NY for nothing more than a bed and a shower= $172.00.
One night hotel accommodations in Boston, but finagling it so I will be there for two days and only four miles from Fenway Park= $99.00.
Seats on the first base line at a Red Sox game= $95.00.
Looking forward to taking a two-week break from life and forgetting about everything, priceless.
My life has been hectic, chaotic, emotional, and stressful.
I've finally graduated from college and this is my reward to myself.
I've worked one full-time and at least two-part-time jobs, donated plasma, recycled pop cans, and sold a lot of my material goods on half.com. Sometimes you just have to say, what the hell, and go for it. Plus, I'm really tired of putting my life on hold. For everything that red blood cells, recycled aluminum, Internet selling, and working for the man in the city- can't buy, there's visa.
I'll see you all in two-weeks.
Don't worry, the stories will be plentiful, the flirting will be abundant, the tan will be deep and dark, and the memory card on the camera, my heart, and my mind will be full.
One round-trip ticket from home state, to Detroit Rock-City, to NYC to Boston, back to home state =$327.00.
A steal of a deal for a hotel for the weekend in the heart of Midtown Manhattan = $400.00.
Seats on the first base line at a Sunday afternoon Yankee game =$66.00.
Eight nights in Greece. Including three nights in Mykonos, three nights in Santorini, two nights in Athens, including airfare, hotel accommodations, and day-trip excursions= $2,414.64.
One night in a two-star hotel in Jamaica Queens, NY for nothing more than a bed and a shower= $172.00.
One night hotel accommodations in Boston, but finagling it so I will be there for two days and only four miles from Fenway Park= $99.00.
Seats on the first base line at a Red Sox game= $95.00.
Looking forward to taking a two-week break from life and forgetting about everything, priceless.
My life has been hectic, chaotic, emotional, and stressful.
I've finally graduated from college and this is my reward to myself.
I've worked one full-time and at least two-part-time jobs, donated plasma, recycled pop cans, and sold a lot of my material goods on half.com. Sometimes you just have to say, what the hell, and go for it. Plus, I'm really tired of putting my life on hold. For everything that red blood cells, recycled aluminum, Internet selling, and working for the man in the city- can't buy, there's visa.
I'll see you all in two-weeks.
Don't worry, the stories will be plentiful, the flirting will be abundant, the tan will be deep and dark, and the memory card on the camera, my heart, and my mind will be full.
inner dork: New York, Greece, and Boston
(oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm so excited!) (Why? Well, it is Inner Dork Thursday.)
Did you know…
New York:
There are 6,374 miles of streets in New York and 578 miles of waterfront? (I plan to walk (almost) every mile of it.)
John Hertz, who founded the Yellow Cab Company in 1907, chose the color yellow because of a study by the University of Chicago stating that yellow was the most recognizable color.
Bronx was named after Jonas Bronck who was one of the first to settle here in 1636, the Bronx officially became a borough in 1898.
Brooklyn: The Dutch were the first to settle there in 1640. Today Brooklyn is the largest of the boroughs.
Staten Island: Was originally discovered by Florentine explorer G. Da Verrazano.
Greece: Ah, I’m going to make you go to the link: It’s all Greek! I mean, it’s Greece, the factoids are long, varied, and numerous. Its been around awhile.
Boston:
Boston Common was the first public park in the US (1634.)
Revere Beach was the first public beach in the US (1896.)
Boston is referred as the “Cradle of Liberty.”
Boston Public Library was established in 1848 and was the first publicly funded municipal library in the US. It was the first to lend a book and to have a branch library.
Did you know…
New York:
There are 6,374 miles of streets in New York and 578 miles of waterfront? (I plan to walk (almost) every mile of it.)
John Hertz, who founded the Yellow Cab Company in 1907, chose the color yellow because of a study by the University of Chicago stating that yellow was the most recognizable color.
Bronx was named after Jonas Bronck who was one of the first to settle here in 1636, the Bronx officially became a borough in 1898.
Brooklyn: The Dutch were the first to settle there in 1640. Today Brooklyn is the largest of the boroughs.
Staten Island: Was originally discovered by Florentine explorer G. Da Verrazano.
Greece: Ah, I’m going to make you go to the link: It’s all Greek! I mean, it’s Greece, the factoids are long, varied, and numerous. Its been around awhile.
Boston:
Boston Common was the first public park in the US (1634.)
Revere Beach was the first public beach in the US (1896.)
Boston is referred as the “Cradle of Liberty.”
Boston Public Library was established in 1848 and was the first publicly funded municipal library in the US. It was the first to lend a book and to have a branch library.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
No, concentration. No, attention span. No, concentration. No, attention span. No...
...what was I sayin'?
Last final and class of my undergrad career: Thursday night.
Days to finalize my independent study project: Two. Today and tomorrow. Of course, the web won't let me make any changes to the said project.
Last day of work: Thursday.
Leaving for the trip of a lifetime: Saturday. Early (very early) a.m.
Number of days to get ready for trip of a lifetime: One. Friday.
Yeah. I am so ADHD right now.
Ball, huge ball, of nervous and stressed energy.
Huge. Ball. Of. A.D.H.D. Energy.
Now. What was I sayin'?
Last final and class of my undergrad career: Thursday night.
Days to finalize my independent study project: Two. Today and tomorrow. Of course, the web won't let me make any changes to the said project.
Last day of work: Thursday.
Leaving for the trip of a lifetime: Saturday. Early (very early) a.m.
Number of days to get ready for trip of a lifetime: One. Friday.
Yeah. I am so ADHD right now.
Ball, huge ball, of nervous and stressed energy.
Huge. Ball. Of. A.D.H.D. Energy.
Now. What was I sayin'?
the delicious warm humid air
There are many things I love about the start of warm weather:
Bare legs.
Fun summer shoes.
The first beginnings of sun-kissed skin.
Bare feet.
Raising my face up to the sun to catch a few extra rays.
Driving with the windows rolled down and my hair blowing this way and that.
Blinking and suddenly realizing everything is clean, crisp, green, and the brightest shade of blue.
The smell of freshly mowed grass.
Leaving my car behind and walking to and fro.
Working out in my summer solace and getting my hands dirty planting this summer's crop of flowers and vegetables.
Putting on last year's swimsuit and realizing I look better this year than last.
The smell of sweat and sex in the air.
but...
Last night I realized there is something else I love about summer.
Leaving Small Private College in my Mustang with the windows rolled down and old school Beastie Boys spinning in the CD player I am making my way home when a car of four young college boys meet up with me on the four lane highway. They pass me with ease and I can tell they feel victorious.
I can't let that feeling last for them.
I then pass them with ease.
They call sweet names to me out their window.
I stare straight ahead on the night road, the full moon guiding my way, as a sly smile crosses my lips.
We then play a fun game of, who can pass who.
They try to pass me on the hill.
I push down on the gas ever so slightly.
They try to pass me on the curves.
I accelerate.
The stay behind me for several miles.
They think they have an opening.
But to no avail, I again, accelerate slightly.
I let them pass me when I have to switch to another highway.
Cat-calls and whops and hollers travel from their open windows and into the lovely night air.
With a smile on my face, the beautiful moon in front of me and the Beastie Boys telling me there will be no sleep 'till Brooklyn I make my way home and realize summer is indeed in the air.
Bare legs.
Fun summer shoes.
The first beginnings of sun-kissed skin.
Bare feet.
Raising my face up to the sun to catch a few extra rays.
Driving with the windows rolled down and my hair blowing this way and that.
Blinking and suddenly realizing everything is clean, crisp, green, and the brightest shade of blue.
The smell of freshly mowed grass.
Leaving my car behind and walking to and fro.
Working out in my summer solace and getting my hands dirty planting this summer's crop of flowers and vegetables.
Putting on last year's swimsuit and realizing I look better this year than last.
The smell of sweat and sex in the air.
but...
Last night I realized there is something else I love about summer.
Leaving Small Private College in my Mustang with the windows rolled down and old school Beastie Boys spinning in the CD player I am making my way home when a car of four young college boys meet up with me on the four lane highway. They pass me with ease and I can tell they feel victorious.
I can't let that feeling last for them.
I then pass them with ease.
They call sweet names to me out their window.
I stare straight ahead on the night road, the full moon guiding my way, as a sly smile crosses my lips.
We then play a fun game of, who can pass who.
They try to pass me on the hill.
I push down on the gas ever so slightly.
They try to pass me on the curves.
I accelerate.
The stay behind me for several miles.
They think they have an opening.
But to no avail, I again, accelerate slightly.
I let them pass me when I have to switch to another highway.
Cat-calls and whops and hollers travel from their open windows and into the lovely night air.
With a smile on my face, the beautiful moon in front of me and the Beastie Boys telling me there will be no sleep 'till Brooklyn I make my way home and realize summer is indeed in the air.
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