Yesterday was many things. Here, a list!
1) My 4 1/2th dating anniversary. Happy Dating!
2) One year ago yesterday, we left Washington. One year ago this morning, we were finishing a complimentary continental breakfast in Butte, Montana. Or was it Billings? CRAP! I think it was Butte. It must've been Butte.
3) Our plans changed.
Yeah. So Jeremy had called out of work yesterday...no fantastic reason, but we enjoyed a day together. We watched Hoosiers and Mask (both movies I'd never seen - can I say, I'm officially a fan of Gar). I got a phone call early yestreday afternoon from Tami, who requested I go see her at the store immediately. I figured maybe she had finally nailed down a raise amount (because my review was Monday...I did good...maybe 25 cents more per hour!). Apparently, our new district manager had stopped in for a surprise visit. The store fared quite well, actually. She told Tami that she made an assistant manager position for the Jay and Farmington stores to share. No revenue class jumping necessary, because each store would have the assistant no more than 20 hours per week.
Guess who Tami recommended for the position.
In the middle of July sometime, I'll be filling out paperwork, maybe passing a background check, taking a math test, and training a week in Waterville to become the Jay/Farmington Assistant Manager. I will get a hefty raise (I really want to say how much, but I'm learning it's classier not to), be working full time, have a benefits package I don't pay for, vacations, holidays, sick time! etc.
Of course, I was very excited. At first. By the time I got back to the apartment, I started realizing that this position might be the start of a lucrative career with Movie Gallery, the problem being that I've wanted to quit my job from the day I was hired. A feeling of having failed at life settled over me. If I take the job, will I ever be anything other than an ASM for a retail movie chain? It would virtually eliminate any chance to finish my degree (I'm not sure if what I've heard about credits expiring after 10 years is true or not, but fall of '07 will be a decade beyond my first semester). So we went for a drive, because driving helps. And we came up with a plan.
I'm going to accept the job offer. This means we're going to remain in Jay for awhile longer. In the meantime, I'm going to apply to Orono again, hopefully to enroll for the fall 2007 semester. If I get accepted, I'll have put in a year as ASM, two years total with the company, and can guiltlessly move to Orono to finish my degree. If they don't take me, then we'll see what happens. Maybe we'll move to Brunswick!
28 June 2006
19 June 2006
move on - i stopped thinking 17 degrees ago
On this day in 1997, I graduated high school. Exciting stuff.
This past weekend was all about changed plans. There were several things we could've done. For one, camping. Camping was the reason I had the weekend off in the first place. Camping was also the reason we didn't attend our second weekend option: Liam's 1st birthday party. We did neither. But we managed to have a pretty cool (NOT literal - 90+ degrees and humid is not what I would call cool...figuratively or literally) weekend.
We were both up early on Saturday morning, and thought we'd hunt down a few yard sales in the area. Once we were in the car, we instead decided to head toward Rumford. There wasn't a lot to be seen on the 18 some-odd miles of US-2, but it was a nice drive. We eventually found ourselves in Mexico, at a library book sale. They had free coffee and doughnuts. Not a whole lot to offer bookwise, but I came away with two summerworthy reads (after two munchkins and a big cup of coffee, I had to buy something!) We continued to Rumford, where we found a church rummage sale in its last hours. Fill a bag for $2? HELL YES! We left with books, shirts, two VERY cool games, silverware, etc. From there we went to Rumford's Business District. Not a lot to do really, but it made for a nice walk. After that we went back to Mexico for lunch at The Covered Wagon. We were the only customers there. It was fantastic. Our server was delightful, our food was awesome, and the decor was enviable (if you're into the whole wagon motif). Then we went home to drink beer and play one of our new acquisitions, The Omega Virus.
It's too hot to type. Sunday, very quickly, we were expecting company who had to cancel last-minute. We took to the road again, this time toward Skowhegan (for ice cream. Why not, right?) once we got there, we decided instead to keep driving. We went south on 201 until we hit Brunswick. We got Indian food for dinner (very good!), and went to Target, where I purchased work-appropriate shorts. Then we headed home. OH! And we almost ran over a turtle crossing the road. If you're a turtle crossing a busy highway, you're begging to get run over. He must've been desperate to get to the other side. It's kind of inspiring, actually.
And now, I'm going to take a nap in the fridge.
This past weekend was all about changed plans. There were several things we could've done. For one, camping. Camping was the reason I had the weekend off in the first place. Camping was also the reason we didn't attend our second weekend option: Liam's 1st birthday party. We did neither. But we managed to have a pretty cool (NOT literal - 90+ degrees and humid is not what I would call cool...figuratively or literally) weekend.
We were both up early on Saturday morning, and thought we'd hunt down a few yard sales in the area. Once we were in the car, we instead decided to head toward Rumford. There wasn't a lot to be seen on the 18 some-odd miles of US-2, but it was a nice drive. We eventually found ourselves in Mexico, at a library book sale. They had free coffee and doughnuts. Not a whole lot to offer bookwise, but I came away with two summerworthy reads (after two munchkins and a big cup of coffee, I had to buy something!) We continued to Rumford, where we found a church rummage sale in its last hours. Fill a bag for $2? HELL YES! We left with books, shirts, two VERY cool games, silverware, etc. From there we went to Rumford's Business District. Not a lot to do really, but it made for a nice walk. After that we went back to Mexico for lunch at The Covered Wagon. We were the only customers there. It was fantastic. Our server was delightful, our food was awesome, and the decor was enviable (if you're into the whole wagon motif). Then we went home to drink beer and play one of our new acquisitions, The Omega Virus.
It's too hot to type. Sunday, very quickly, we were expecting company who had to cancel last-minute. We took to the road again, this time toward Skowhegan (for ice cream. Why not, right?) once we got there, we decided instead to keep driving. We went south on 201 until we hit Brunswick. We got Indian food for dinner (very good!), and went to Target, where I purchased work-appropriate shorts. Then we headed home. OH! And we almost ran over a turtle crossing the road. If you're a turtle crossing a busy highway, you're begging to get run over. He must've been desperate to get to the other side. It's kind of inspiring, actually.
And now, I'm going to take a nap in the fridge.
15 June 2006
boyfriends
I have a new boyfriend. I just found out this morning! He, Tami and I went out last night. He's smart and funny, short (never a problem), and turns six in September. Did that fool anyone, even for a minute? Tami took Trevor to Wal*Mart and Pizza Hut last night to celebrate getting good grades on his report card, and she invited me along. Needless to say it was very fun. This morning, while walking the plaza, I learned how big an impression I made. Apparently Trevor made Tami take pictures of him with his wrestling figures to give to me. Also, he's in the process of writing me a "love letter". I guess five year olds think I'm cool! It's the magic age that thinks everything I say is funny and interesting. So when I become rich and famous, I'm thinking I'm going to need an entourage of kindergarteners with me at all times. Perhaps my blueberry stoli recipe will net me more than just the respect of alcoholics - I'll get the adoration of the Barney set!
Also last night, Jeremy and I happened upon a Great Performances of interest - Bill Irwin, Clown Prince. Jeremy let me watch it. It totally made my night. I could watch Bill Irwin knit a sweater and be entertained. In an ideal world, my job would be to do what Bill Irwin does. Physical comic/clown/mime, with class. I could go on, but I'm the only one who'd care to read seven more paragraphs of "Bill Irwin rocks HARD! I (heart) him!"
I work 9-3 today. Hot Fed Ex Guy is going to be delivering a package to the store. Tami wants me to ask him if he's single. I promised her nothing, since I'm not a blatant flirter. I did tell her that if he brought her up by name, I'd dig a little. That's what friends are for.
Also last night, Jeremy and I happened upon a Great Performances of interest - Bill Irwin, Clown Prince. Jeremy let me watch it. It totally made my night. I could watch Bill Irwin knit a sweater and be entertained. In an ideal world, my job would be to do what Bill Irwin does. Physical comic/clown/mime, with class. I could go on, but I'm the only one who'd care to read seven more paragraphs of "Bill Irwin rocks HARD! I (heart) him!"
I work 9-3 today. Hot Fed Ex Guy is going to be delivering a package to the store. Tami wants me to ask him if he's single. I promised her nothing, since I'm not a blatant flirter. I did tell her that if he brought her up by name, I'd dig a little. That's what friends are for.
14 June 2006
liquor up!
Very briefly, I'll sum up the end of the carnival: Saturday's weather resulted in fewer hours of operation, so they stayed until Sunday. Sunday was partly sunny. I couldn't convince Jeremy to come along. By the time we finally got to the plaza (we were going to pick up dinner foods and ride a ride), they had started shutting down. It was only 5:00 p.m. So my last entry sums up my entire carnival experience.
I can't remember what I was looking at yesterday, but I found a link to blueberry stoli. I clicked on the link because "hey, yum! blueberry stoli!" After arriving at the blueberry stoli site, I learned of the drink contest. Invent a drink, submit it, and the winner gets...not a whole lot, actually. Recognition. A name and the drink recipe printed in the company-sponsored drink book. But still, talk about fun! I'd love to share my ideas (because obviously I'm going to do it), but I'd hate to give away my creative edge.
I have today off. I know I'm going to wash the dishes at some point. Other than that, it's all up in the air. I'll probably grab a few movies. Maybe I'll read one of my library books. In all likelihood, I'll listen to podcasts and play Feeding Frenzy 2. Oh, and I'll celebrate the flag. I'll knit the flag a commemorative sweater, or eat a pudding pop in its honor. Happy Flag Day!
I can't remember what I was looking at yesterday, but I found a link to blueberry stoli. I clicked on the link because "hey, yum! blueberry stoli!" After arriving at the blueberry stoli site, I learned of the drink contest. Invent a drink, submit it, and the winner gets...not a whole lot, actually. Recognition. A name and the drink recipe printed in the company-sponsored drink book. But still, talk about fun! I'd love to share my ideas (because obviously I'm going to do it), but I'd hate to give away my creative edge.
I have today off. I know I'm going to wash the dishes at some point. Other than that, it's all up in the air. I'll probably grab a few movies. Maybe I'll read one of my library books. In all likelihood, I'll listen to podcasts and play Feeding Frenzy 2. Oh, and I'll celebrate the flag. I'll knit the flag a commemorative sweater, or eat a pudding pop in its honor. Happy Flag Day!
10 June 2006
awesome friday
I filled a hole in Tami's shift yesterday, a 2:30-5:00. Easy money. I had time to re-arrange and start shifting the gallery, and at 4:00 the customers came. From the highest mountains to the lowest valleys, everyone wanted movies. I had quite a line. Everyone was in good spirits, and the carnival served as easy small-talk. At 5:00, the evening shift arrived. It had yet to rain, and Tami and I decided to head out to the parking lot to ride a ride. We went on a hand glider contraption that goes in circles, where we control how high or low we went. Our co-riders were a group of 7-9 year old girls. From there, having survived the family-friendly ride without vomiting, we headed to the "ferris wheel of death". Not what it's actually called, but looking at it, one would easily identify the ride I'm talking about. Tami and I were the only people on it. After loading us in and securing us, the ride started. After one pass, they stopped the ride and told us they were going to put us in a different cage...one that would go upside down. Oh joy. So we were moved from a cage that had a sway to it but maintained an upright position, to one with no sway, meaning that by the time we reached the top of the wheel we'd be 100% upside down.
I should mention that Tami and I went directly from work to the carnival in full Movie Gallery attire. The fact that we clearly worked in the plaza, coupled with Tami being somewhat of a carny magnet, meant that all the handlers (or engineers, as one carny identified himself to be..."I'm not a carny, you know. I'm a mechanical engineer. I just travel with the fair part-time". Sure, carny. Sure.) felt the need to...I don't know. Get us. Make us puke. Make us giggle. But primarily, the puke part. I guess we were a novelty in our matching red polos and khaki pants. Not to mention being the oldest people at that point riding rides. So when we switched cages on the FWOD, their fun began. We handled upside-down like pros. Having not made us scream or cry, the carnies started slowing the ride down once we hit the top, leaving us upside down and virtually immobile, just dangling in the sky. Boobs flopping about, hair mussed, foreheads ready to burst. It was crazy. Tears were streaming down our faces from laughing so hard. After a few rounds, they brought us back down. Before letting us out, Carny Jr. reactivated the spin mechanism and hand-spun our cage ultrafast. He then stopped on a dime, and spun us in the opposite direction (forward to back, then back to forward). Ugh! We survived. The ticket handler commented on our lack of screaming. We told him we were awesome.
Surviving the FWOD perhaps made us a bit too cocky, a touch too confident. The apple ride I referred to the other day, "Spin the Apple"is pretty much like the teacup ride, but on a smaller scale. That, and you're actually inside a hollowed out apple. So the only open air you see is a window-sized square near the entrance. Anyway, we overspun right off the bat. Suddenly there was a very real danger of yakking. We stopped our apple and rode out the ride just going in a circle. But the damage was done. The apple ride, perhaps the family-friendliest contraption of the lot, wrecked us. We went back into the store and hid in Tami's office, waiting for the spinning to stop. We were officially done with the carnival for the night.
It's raining today, but it's lightened up considerably since 9:00 a.m. So they're possibly opening things up at 3:00 today, and I think Jeremy and I are going to check it out. I have yet to go on the La Kermesse ride, and I could use another piece of fried dough.
I should mention that Tami and I went directly from work to the carnival in full Movie Gallery attire. The fact that we clearly worked in the plaza, coupled with Tami being somewhat of a carny magnet, meant that all the handlers (or engineers, as one carny identified himself to be..."I'm not a carny, you know. I'm a mechanical engineer. I just travel with the fair part-time". Sure, carny. Sure.) felt the need to...I don't know. Get us. Make us puke. Make us giggle. But primarily, the puke part. I guess we were a novelty in our matching red polos and khaki pants. Not to mention being the oldest people at that point riding rides. So when we switched cages on the FWOD, their fun began. We handled upside-down like pros. Having not made us scream or cry, the carnies started slowing the ride down once we hit the top, leaving us upside down and virtually immobile, just dangling in the sky. Boobs flopping about, hair mussed, foreheads ready to burst. It was crazy. Tears were streaming down our faces from laughing so hard. After a few rounds, they brought us back down. Before letting us out, Carny Jr. reactivated the spin mechanism and hand-spun our cage ultrafast. He then stopped on a dime, and spun us in the opposite direction (forward to back, then back to forward). Ugh! We survived. The ticket handler commented on our lack of screaming. We told him we were awesome.
Surviving the FWOD perhaps made us a bit too cocky, a touch too confident. The apple ride I referred to the other day, "Spin the Apple"is pretty much like the teacup ride, but on a smaller scale. That, and you're actually inside a hollowed out apple. So the only open air you see is a window-sized square near the entrance. Anyway, we overspun right off the bat. Suddenly there was a very real danger of yakking. We stopped our apple and rode out the ride just going in a circle. But the damage was done. The apple ride, perhaps the family-friendliest contraption of the lot, wrecked us. We went back into the store and hid in Tami's office, waiting for the spinning to stop. We were officially done with the carnival for the night.
It's raining today, but it's lightened up considerably since 9:00 a.m. So they're possibly opening things up at 3:00 today, and I think Jeremy and I are going to check it out. I have yet to go on the La Kermesse ride, and I could use another piece of fried dough.
09 June 2006
food, fun, and falling down
It's supposed to rain all weekend. Through Monday, actually. It certainly rained hard and long yesterday, the first day of the canival. I'm not sure if it even opened, technically. It hasn't rained yet today, but the day is still young. I'm going to have to check it out. So needless to say, I haven't been yet. And there's a chance that I, and the town of Jay, are going to miss out. Sucky.
Wednesday, after finishing my last entry, I decided to re-arrange the furniture in the living room. I was excited and motivated and ready to move couches. It was then that I fell down the stairs. All of them. Top to bottom, level two to level one. My injuries would've been minor had I not extended both arms to grasp at the railings in an attempt to stop myself. I ended up unnaturally yanking both arms out of their sockets. It slowed me down, but as soon as I let go, I proceeded to fall the rest of the way down. I bruised my legs, pulled countless muscles, and had rug burn on my palms. Good times. It made yesterday's inventory shift a lot more interesting.
Actually, inventory went fast. We were both in extreme pain for various reasons, but we were efficient, and tackled the work like pros. The big scan was done around 1:00, and the three passes (a record for us!) were complete around 2:00. I was home early. It was too fast and too easy to be inventory. We had iced coffee and muffins. We didn't walk the plaza, because we were getting up early as it was...neither of us wanted to get up at 5:00 to allow for exercise befor counting every item in the store. This morning we skipped on walking because of the threat of rain. Perhaps I'll jog in place a bit in exchange...the next best thing!
Jeremy was home yesterday. After my early work day, we went to the library to return/renew my books, and select more. I kept "Home Comforts" for another cycle, because I am still inspired to homemake with every chapter I complete. I also picked up Stephen King's On Writing, a book of Annie Proulx stories (Bad Dirt: Wyoming Stories 2) and Susan Susanka's The Not So Big House (because as of recent I'm into finding pictures of rooms I like, and storing them away to maybe one day build the ideal home). Jeremy grabbed, among other things, E.B. White's One Man's Meat, and I'm going to have to read it. Because I looked at a chunk of it, and it's great. We also had a present in our mailbox - Kansas City! The first of our vacation brochures arrived. There were lots of additional leaflets, a "Discover KC" discount card, and a map. It looks like a pretty happening city. Most entertaining was a series of "Halloweekends" at one of the big amusement parks. For example, "Camp Gonnagitcha Witchahatchet." And one we'd have no choice but to bring Jim to, "The Carnival of Carnivorous Clowns." Once we'd finished looking at books and mail, we decided on an evening of food and film. We went to the Farmington Diner for too much breakfast, and caught the 9:35 show of Mission: Impossible 3. It was great!
And with that, I'm going to go start my day.
Wednesday, after finishing my last entry, I decided to re-arrange the furniture in the living room. I was excited and motivated and ready to move couches. It was then that I fell down the stairs. All of them. Top to bottom, level two to level one. My injuries would've been minor had I not extended both arms to grasp at the railings in an attempt to stop myself. I ended up unnaturally yanking both arms out of their sockets. It slowed me down, but as soon as I let go, I proceeded to fall the rest of the way down. I bruised my legs, pulled countless muscles, and had rug burn on my palms. Good times. It made yesterday's inventory shift a lot more interesting.
Actually, inventory went fast. We were both in extreme pain for various reasons, but we were efficient, and tackled the work like pros. The big scan was done around 1:00, and the three passes (a record for us!) were complete around 2:00. I was home early. It was too fast and too easy to be inventory. We had iced coffee and muffins. We didn't walk the plaza, because we were getting up early as it was...neither of us wanted to get up at 5:00 to allow for exercise befor counting every item in the store. This morning we skipped on walking because of the threat of rain. Perhaps I'll jog in place a bit in exchange...the next best thing!
Jeremy was home yesterday. After my early work day, we went to the library to return/renew my books, and select more. I kept "Home Comforts" for another cycle, because I am still inspired to homemake with every chapter I complete. I also picked up Stephen King's On Writing, a book of Annie Proulx stories (Bad Dirt: Wyoming Stories 2) and Susan Susanka's The Not So Big House (because as of recent I'm into finding pictures of rooms I like, and storing them away to maybe one day build the ideal home). Jeremy grabbed, among other things, E.B. White's One Man's Meat, and I'm going to have to read it. Because I looked at a chunk of it, and it's great. We also had a present in our mailbox - Kansas City! The first of our vacation brochures arrived. There were lots of additional leaflets, a "Discover KC" discount card, and a map. It looks like a pretty happening city. Most entertaining was a series of "Halloweekends" at one of the big amusement parks. For example, "Camp Gonnagitcha Witchahatchet." And one we'd have no choice but to bring Jim to, "The Carnival of Carnivorous Clowns." Once we'd finished looking at books and mail, we decided on an evening of food and film. We went to the Farmington Diner for too much breakfast, and caught the 9:35 show of Mission: Impossible 3. It was great!
And with that, I'm going to go start my day.
07 June 2006
franco-american-inspired nostalgia
Last night the carnies set up a ferris wheel, but with death cages attached to the ends, replacing the more traditional seating. The granny smith apple from yesterday is now four apples: two red, two green, and they supposedly spin. It hasn't been set up yet, so I'm still in the dark as to how it's going to work. There's a kiddie-size scrambler, a ride I forget the name to but rode once at La Kermesse in 1987 (like a wire tire that you are strapped into, then it lifts up and spins), and lots of carny trailers. It's a nice little set-up, but I'm hoping there's more to it. Because if the carnival is comprised of nothing other than what's already there, I am going to have a hard time spending three days at it. I'll do it, but it'll be tough.
La Kermesse...1986 was my first year. We were living in Biddeford at the time. Fun. French. I think it was the next year that my Brownie troop was in the parade. We all got to dress in costumes. I was Mama from Mama's Family - I thought I was so awesome (who am I kidding...I was TOTALLY awesome!). The year that I rode the wire wheel of terror was the year that Lorrie got lost on the fairgrounds. A former teacher of mine, and Lorrie's then-current teacher, Mrs. McPhail, found her. That was also the night I learned that Mrs. McPhail smoked...it made me feel awkward, since at that age, and for many years after that, cigarettes were "devil sticks", consumed by bad people who did bad things. I can only imagine that it was a tiring brainwashing campaign on my mother's part. I was severely reprimanded for holding a candy cigarette when I was five, and since then, I can't come in contact with cigarettes without being overwhelmed with nauseating guilt. Lorrie doesn't have that problem. Not that she smokes, because she doesn't. But she has, at least once. She doesn't break out into a rash or have a panic attack when her best friend asks her to pick up a package of cigarettes for her (another story altogether. I did it, but at a cost to my mental well-being). She also never ended up arguing with another friend who wanted her to simply put a clove cigarette against her lips to taste the cinnamon (I couldn't do it even if I wanted to!) I have nothing against people who smoke. I have no qualms when people who smoke want to smoke in my presence. But I have no control over the resulting sadness.
Where the hell did all that come from? I'm cut off! More blogging later.
La Kermesse...1986 was my first year. We were living in Biddeford at the time. Fun. French. I think it was the next year that my Brownie troop was in the parade. We all got to dress in costumes. I was Mama from Mama's Family - I thought I was so awesome (who am I kidding...I was TOTALLY awesome!). The year that I rode the wire wheel of terror was the year that Lorrie got lost on the fairgrounds. A former teacher of mine, and Lorrie's then-current teacher, Mrs. McPhail, found her. That was also the night I learned that Mrs. McPhail smoked...it made me feel awkward, since at that age, and for many years after that, cigarettes were "devil sticks", consumed by bad people who did bad things. I can only imagine that it was a tiring brainwashing campaign on my mother's part. I was severely reprimanded for holding a candy cigarette when I was five, and since then, I can't come in contact with cigarettes without being overwhelmed with nauseating guilt. Lorrie doesn't have that problem. Not that she smokes, because she doesn't. But she has, at least once. She doesn't break out into a rash or have a panic attack when her best friend asks her to pick up a package of cigarettes for her (another story altogether. I did it, but at a cost to my mental well-being). She also never ended up arguing with another friend who wanted her to simply put a clove cigarette against her lips to taste the cinnamon (I couldn't do it even if I wanted to!) I have nothing against people who smoke. I have no qualms when people who smoke want to smoke in my presence. But I have no control over the resulting sadness.
Where the hell did all that come from? I'm cut off! More blogging later.
05 June 2006
i invent a social anxiety disorder and learn to use "myriad" in a sentence
Making a schedule is HARD. I spent four hours on Sunday attempting to cover shifts fairly, without exceeding our allotted hourage. It helped my shift pass, and once I finished, I felt extremely contented. There's nothing like hard work to make you appreciate things. Today was pretty crazy, too. The whole layout of the store needs to be revamped, requiring shifting and transferring and cleaning. The day flew. It's going to be a good week. I work tomorrow, Wednesday off, Thursday is inventory, Friday off. I was supposed to work Saturday morning, but Tami took the shift so I could come in Sunday night to help finish implementing the merchandising changes. This means two carnival days are completely work-free. The carnies have already started filtering in. This morning we saw a piece of a funhouse (or possibly a fake jail) in the dirt lot to the left of the plaza. There was another object, resembling a really big granny smith apple, which I can only assume is a people-sized fondue pot. Very exciting.
I think I'm bipeoplar. That's not a typo, I just made it up. By which I mean as of quite recently, I either am delighted to be in the presence of others, or freaked out. This evening I'm freaked out. It's like...like when your feet are being tickled, but it doesn't tickle good; it tickles bad. Like irritation, but without being irritable. It's the two extremes. I'm not sure if small town living is doing it to me, or if it's age, or who knows what else. Bipeoplar.
After watching a special on Loretta Lynn's Haunted Plantation last night (and after having recently seen Coal Miner's Daughter for the first time), Jeremy and I decided that it might be time for another trip to the south. I excitedly suggested we request travel brochures from various states and major cities. So that's exactly what we did. Half in Jeremy's name, half in mine, all due to start arriving in 10-15 business days. If you've never had random vacation guides sent to you en masse, I highly recommend it. I haven't done anything like this since 2000...I had an atlas or gazeteer, or some kind of travel book with pages of coupons in the back. All you had to do was put your name and address, and drop them in the mail. I sent a few to friends, and saved the majority for myself. It didn't result in a vacation, but, at least for me, sometimes thinking about the vacation is good enough. Planning adventures is almost as good as taking them. Anyway, what was I saying? Yes. There are a myriad* of eateries we'd like to patronize, along with some killer scenery. There are other things, but I can't tell you what they are until our catalogs get here.
*Usage Note: Throughout most of its history in English myriad was used as a noun, as in a myriad of men. In the 19th century it began to be used in poetry as an adjective, as in myriad men. Both usages in English are acceptable, as in Samuel Taylor Coleridge's “Myriad myriads of lives.” This poetic, adjectival use became so well entrenched generally that many people came to consider it as the only correct use. In fact, both uses in English are parallel with those of the original ancient Greek. The Greek word m
rias, from which myriad derives, could be used as either a noun or an adjective, but the noun mrias was used in general prose and in mathematics while the adjective mrias was used only in poetry.
About the tiny paragraph above here? I checked with dictionary.com about my usage of myriad, because I wasn't sure if making it a noun was accurate, and managed to learn something interesting. I just thought I'd share.
I think I'm bipeoplar. That's not a typo, I just made it up. By which I mean as of quite recently, I either am delighted to be in the presence of others, or freaked out. This evening I'm freaked out. It's like...like when your feet are being tickled, but it doesn't tickle good; it tickles bad. Like irritation, but without being irritable. It's the two extremes. I'm not sure if small town living is doing it to me, or if it's age, or who knows what else. Bipeoplar.
After watching a special on Loretta Lynn's Haunted Plantation last night (and after having recently seen Coal Miner's Daughter for the first time), Jeremy and I decided that it might be time for another trip to the south. I excitedly suggested we request travel brochures from various states and major cities. So that's exactly what we did. Half in Jeremy's name, half in mine, all due to start arriving in 10-15 business days. If you've never had random vacation guides sent to you en masse, I highly recommend it. I haven't done anything like this since 2000...I had an atlas or gazeteer, or some kind of travel book with pages of coupons in the back. All you had to do was put your name and address, and drop them in the mail. I sent a few to friends, and saved the majority for myself. It didn't result in a vacation, but, at least for me, sometimes thinking about the vacation is good enough. Planning adventures is almost as good as taking them. Anyway, what was I saying? Yes. There are a myriad* of eateries we'd like to patronize, along with some killer scenery. There are other things, but I can't tell you what they are until our catalogs get here.
*Usage Note: Throughout most of its history in English myriad was used as a noun, as in a myriad of men. In the 19th century it began to be used in poetry as an adjective, as in myriad men. Both usages in English are acceptable, as in Samuel Taylor Coleridge's “Myriad myriads of lives.” This poetic, adjectival use became so well entrenched generally that many people came to consider it as the only correct use. In fact, both uses in English are parallel with those of the original ancient Greek. The Greek word m
rias, from which myriad derives, could be used as either a noun or an adjective, but the noun mrias was used in general prose and in mathematics while the adjective mrias was used only in poetry.About the tiny paragraph above here? I checked with dictionary.com about my usage of myriad, because I wasn't sure if making it a noun was accurate, and managed to learn something interesting. I just thought I'd share.
02 June 2006
cruel to bee kind
I decided to change my blog format. The old one was fun, but I prefer the font on this one. It's a little bigger, making my words look a lot more exciting. I don't want to dwell, I just thought I should acknowledge the change.
As of Tuesday, Tami and I started walking Jay Plaza in the mornings. Today was day three. I absolutely love getting up and doing something with my morning. We go anytime between 6:00 and 6:45, depending on how we're feeling. We've managed about three miles each day so far. We then drive to Dunkin' Donuts for iced coffee, then go home to officially start our respective days. The first morning was troublesome - sometime during the third lap, my stomach started to cramp. I blamed past inactivity, and pressed on. Once we finished, and I got home, something in my colon let go. For the rest of the morning, and the better part of the afternoon, I experienced what Emily referred to as "runner's diarrhea". It's not a phenomenon I knew anything about, and it was almost enough to prevent me from ever wanting to exercise again. The only perk was waking up the next morning and feeling light. Spry, even. Yesterday was not nearly as bad, and as far as today is concerned, I've successfully dodged the bullet (so far).
Tami had a meeting with the district manager yesterday, who told her she needed to delegate responsibilities to others. Without getting into the specifics, I am now going to be the schedule maker! There's no pay increase, or guarantee of promotion or power or whatever, but I'm THRILLED by the news. I've never made a schedule before, but I've always wanted to. All the figuring and placing and the numbers, working around limitations, budgeting the allotted hours...tee!!! Maybe it's crazy to call it a dream come true, but, you know. It is. If there was one cool thing I could do at work, making the schedule is it. And that she thought of me for it is a huge compliment. Life is good.
Tomorrow we're going to Topsham for a potluck spelling bee, hosted by Dan and Tori. I'm studying for the event the same way I studied for the SATs - not at all. I'm not playing to win. I haven't been a competitive speller since grade 6. I know what I know, and I'll last as long as I was meant to last. I don't want to win. As long as I get through the first round, I'm set. We might head down early to spend some time at Target. It's sad how much I miss living in a town with a Target. Sure globalization sucks, but my affection for quirk and value disallow me from judging.
I should stop. I have more to write, but I'll save it for tomorrow.
As of Tuesday, Tami and I started walking Jay Plaza in the mornings. Today was day three. I absolutely love getting up and doing something with my morning. We go anytime between 6:00 and 6:45, depending on how we're feeling. We've managed about three miles each day so far. We then drive to Dunkin' Donuts for iced coffee, then go home to officially start our respective days. The first morning was troublesome - sometime during the third lap, my stomach started to cramp. I blamed past inactivity, and pressed on. Once we finished, and I got home, something in my colon let go. For the rest of the morning, and the better part of the afternoon, I experienced what Emily referred to as "runner's diarrhea". It's not a phenomenon I knew anything about, and it was almost enough to prevent me from ever wanting to exercise again. The only perk was waking up the next morning and feeling light. Spry, even. Yesterday was not nearly as bad, and as far as today is concerned, I've successfully dodged the bullet (so far).
Tami had a meeting with the district manager yesterday, who told her she needed to delegate responsibilities to others. Without getting into the specifics, I am now going to be the schedule maker! There's no pay increase, or guarantee of promotion or power or whatever, but I'm THRILLED by the news. I've never made a schedule before, but I've always wanted to. All the figuring and placing and the numbers, working around limitations, budgeting the allotted hours...tee!!! Maybe it's crazy to call it a dream come true, but, you know. It is. If there was one cool thing I could do at work, making the schedule is it. And that she thought of me for it is a huge compliment. Life is good.
Tomorrow we're going to Topsham for a potluck spelling bee, hosted by Dan and Tori. I'm studying for the event the same way I studied for the SATs - not at all. I'm not playing to win. I haven't been a competitive speller since grade 6. I know what I know, and I'll last as long as I was meant to last. I don't want to win. As long as I get through the first round, I'm set. We might head down early to spend some time at Target. It's sad how much I miss living in a town with a Target. Sure globalization sucks, but my affection for quirk and value disallow me from judging.
I should stop. I have more to write, but I'll save it for tomorrow.
30 May 2006
uuhhhhh
I spent a good portion of yesterday reading. I stayed up until 4:45 this morning finishing Sammy's Hill, by Kristin Gore. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either. A bit contrived in parts, but it had some laughs. The love aspect wrapped up abruptly, but I was ready for it to be done. It was compelling enough. The political parts were interesting, because it was impossible not to assume she had drawn from life experience. President Pile sure does remind me of another four-letter president. Senator Gary? A bit paternal-seeming, if you ask me. But it's done, and today I hurt. I had planned to sleep until 11:00 or so, but Trina called at 7:30, waking me from not nearly enough sleep. I ran down the stairs, confusedly thinking that it was work, telling me that I had overslept (because I assumed it was at least 9:00), or that they desperately needed me to fill a shift. Nope! She called back right before 9:00, however, and I asked Jeremy to take a message. She's something else. Nice, but a handful. Four hours of sleep is enough to get through the day.
I did get called in today, technically. For an hour. Tami said I don't need to bother putting on Movie Gallery attire, which is a treat. I'm convinced that my overall job satisfaction would be higher if I got to wear my own clothes to work. My one red polo shirt is very old-looking, and I can never find appropriate pants. My current pair of Wal*Mart "utility pants" (purchased in the women's section - the utilitarian pockets are ripping off, as they were clearly meant to be decorative) are somewhat ugly and WAY too long. My last two pant finds were too short. I'm coming to realize that looking ridiculous from the waist down might be part of my charm.
So my today is coffee (I can smell it a-brewin'), work at 2:00, and read another library book. My current stack is due June 1st. I always let my books sit until it's too late, then try to plow through them, generally without success. I've finished nine books so far this year. That's not as close to fifty as is should be, six months into the year. Oh well! I'm 16 books off my pace, no biggie. It's a miracle I'm reading at all.
Memorial Day weekend was good. Saturday afternoon we went to a barbeque at Jeff and Jube's. Very laid back, very fun. Sunday we drove to Phillips (why not!). I wore shorts outside for the first time in two years. My legs violently rejected sunlight and the elements, but they're adjusting. Monday I had to work until three. It was a great weekend overall.
Out of curiosity, I clocked the distance around the perimeter of the Jay Plaza lot on Sunday. It's almost half a mile! I'm getting over the potential humiliation, and thinking about starting to jog it. If I go early enough, I won't have to contend with Camper Man. I'd also manage to avoid the rest of the people who patronize the plaza. The only thing preventing me from starting yesterday is my desire to jog to music. Now that I've made a plan, I want an iPod Nano. They're cute, and hold just enough songs to keep me from getting bored. Not to mention that I wouldn't jeopardize the integrity of the music tracks with heavy jostling. Which makes me wonder why anyone ever bothered inventing the Discman.
I did get called in today, technically. For an hour. Tami said I don't need to bother putting on Movie Gallery attire, which is a treat. I'm convinced that my overall job satisfaction would be higher if I got to wear my own clothes to work. My one red polo shirt is very old-looking, and I can never find appropriate pants. My current pair of Wal*Mart "utility pants" (purchased in the women's section - the utilitarian pockets are ripping off, as they were clearly meant to be decorative) are somewhat ugly and WAY too long. My last two pant finds were too short. I'm coming to realize that looking ridiculous from the waist down might be part of my charm.
So my today is coffee (I can smell it a-brewin'), work at 2:00, and read another library book. My current stack is due June 1st. I always let my books sit until it's too late, then try to plow through them, generally without success. I've finished nine books so far this year. That's not as close to fifty as is should be, six months into the year. Oh well! I'm 16 books off my pace, no biggie. It's a miracle I'm reading at all.
Memorial Day weekend was good. Saturday afternoon we went to a barbeque at Jeff and Jube's. Very laid back, very fun. Sunday we drove to Phillips (why not!). I wore shorts outside for the first time in two years. My legs violently rejected sunlight and the elements, but they're adjusting. Monday I had to work until three. It was a great weekend overall.
Out of curiosity, I clocked the distance around the perimeter of the Jay Plaza lot on Sunday. It's almost half a mile! I'm getting over the potential humiliation, and thinking about starting to jog it. If I go early enough, I won't have to contend with Camper Man. I'd also manage to avoid the rest of the people who patronize the plaza. The only thing preventing me from starting yesterday is my desire to jog to music. Now that I've made a plan, I want an iPod Nano. They're cute, and hold just enough songs to keep me from getting bored. Not to mention that I wouldn't jeopardize the integrity of the music tracks with heavy jostling. Which makes me wonder why anyone ever bothered inventing the Discman.
26 May 2006
back! (and fresher than ever)!
OOPS! Sorry, people who care about me and my life. I haven't had the time or energy to write recently, but now I'm making the time; channeling the energy. Within hours of posting my last entry, I looked out the front door to see my street torn up, with several men in hats driving trucks and staring into the ground. I guess there was a water emergency. We had water back by the end of the day. Rest assured, that smell of filth in the air isn't me.
Work has been consuming me, this week in particular. Tami's in Arizona until Sunday, and one of my co-workers has come down with a 72-hour my-boyfriend-is-visiting bug, and hasn't been able to work her shifts. As I've been left in charge, I get to fill the empty store time. So my next paycheck will be sizeable (sizeable for Movie Gallery, that is). Inventory is next week, which means an early day of coffee, doughnuts, and counting. Inventory day is also the first day of the carnival in the Ames parking lot.
Perhaps you weren't able to detect the excitement masked in that last sentence, but THERE'S A CARNIVAL COMING TO THE AMES PARKING LOT! Which, for those of you who haven't visited us in Jay (read: everyone but Michelle), means the carnival is across the street from our apartment. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, June 8-10. We are going to live at the carnival until it's gone. And, if anyone wants to overdose on fun with us any of those days, you're more than welcome to come up for a day, spend the night if you have to travel. We've got seven bags of bottles in the basement, and every penny we redeem is going to be spent on the carnival. No more, no less.
I had a dream milestone last night. For the first time, I acknowledged a dream while still dreaming. The plot, summed up, was that Elliot Yamin (of American Idol fame) fell in love with me. I apparently found a way to see the show, but it was filmed in what looked like a super-huge version of my high school gymnasium. Anyway, he was trying to hold me, and he wrote me letters, etc. Very nice. Then my sister was wheeled in several levels below us on a stretcher, and I cried (so Elliot comforted me, obviously!). Then Jeremy came in and asked what was going on. We fought, and I told him repeatedly that nothing had happened (because it never does...my brain thwarts it all), and that it was only a dream. How bizarre and self-realizing. Is that the right term? Though I was saying it, I wasn't fully aware of it until I woke up. I'm excessively impressed. Jeremy was, too.
Just realized something...if I had said "I was excessively impresed", I could've made the contraction I's. I's excessively impressed. Ha! Sounds terrible, but technically, there's nothing overtly wrong with it. Not that I plan to use it in conversation.
Work has been consuming me, this week in particular. Tami's in Arizona until Sunday, and one of my co-workers has come down with a 72-hour my-boyfriend-is-visiting bug, and hasn't been able to work her shifts. As I've been left in charge, I get to fill the empty store time. So my next paycheck will be sizeable (sizeable for Movie Gallery, that is). Inventory is next week, which means an early day of coffee, doughnuts, and counting. Inventory day is also the first day of the carnival in the Ames parking lot.
Perhaps you weren't able to detect the excitement masked in that last sentence, but THERE'S A CARNIVAL COMING TO THE AMES PARKING LOT! Which, for those of you who haven't visited us in Jay (read: everyone but Michelle), means the carnival is across the street from our apartment. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, June 8-10. We are going to live at the carnival until it's gone. And, if anyone wants to overdose on fun with us any of those days, you're more than welcome to come up for a day, spend the night if you have to travel. We've got seven bags of bottles in the basement, and every penny we redeem is going to be spent on the carnival. No more, no less.
I had a dream milestone last night. For the first time, I acknowledged a dream while still dreaming. The plot, summed up, was that Elliot Yamin (of American Idol fame) fell in love with me. I apparently found a way to see the show, but it was filmed in what looked like a super-huge version of my high school gymnasium. Anyway, he was trying to hold me, and he wrote me letters, etc. Very nice. Then my sister was wheeled in several levels below us on a stretcher, and I cried (so Elliot comforted me, obviously!). Then Jeremy came in and asked what was going on. We fought, and I told him repeatedly that nothing had happened (because it never does...my brain thwarts it all), and that it was only a dream. How bizarre and self-realizing. Is that the right term? Though I was saying it, I wasn't fully aware of it until I woke up. I'm excessively impressed. Jeremy was, too.
Just realized something...if I had said "I was excessively impresed", I could've made the contraction I's. I's excessively impressed. Ha! Sounds terrible, but technically, there's nothing overtly wrong with it. Not that I plan to use it in conversation.
14 May 2006
desert oasis
I was woken by the phone at 8:00 this morning. I got to it on the fourth ring, only to find a dial tone at the other end. Since I'm down here, I might as well pee and make coffee, I said to myself. One problem: we don't seem to have running water. You can hear a quiet, thinking-about-distributing-water sound, but nothing happens. I'm not sure if that means it's leaking out somewhere else, or what. One thing I KNOW it means? We have to clean up in order to have Arthur come in to check it out.
Water isn't a utility we pay, so it's not blatantly our fault. I don't know if something could get clogged, and effect all the pipes in the house? Or maybe Arthur did something to his pipes that effected ours. At any rate, I can't shower, flush the toilet, wash my hands, or make coffee. NOT how I like to start my day.
Water isn't a utility we pay, so it's not blatantly our fault. I don't know if something could get clogged, and effect all the pipes in the house? Or maybe Arthur did something to his pipes that effected ours. At any rate, I can't shower, flush the toilet, wash my hands, or make coffee. NOT how I like to start my day.
07 May 2006
no dream job for fannie
AAA Northern New England's Portland location is looking for a "Production Packager". Know what the job descrpition is? MAKE TRIP TIKS! It was posted on April 25th. I have no resume programs on my computer, or access to a computer with such a program. On top of that, I have never in my life written a cover letter. Not only do I not know how to start it (a problem I've always had, be it with term papers, or even blog entries), I'm not sure how I'd best articulate my qualifications:
1) Repeated Trip Tik user/enthusiast
2) Map Enjoyer
3) I LOVE DRIVING DIRECTIONS!
Two questions:
1) Do these things belong in a cover letter?
2) How do I express these statements without sounding like an asshole?
Technically, it doesn't even make sense for me to apply. The job's been posted a week already. They'll probably want to hire soon. Sooner than I'm going to be in the area. Sooner than will allow for us to move and acquire a second vehicle.
Sucky. I would absolutely love this job. How often does AAA hire Trip Tik assemblers? It doesn't seem like a job someone would give up once they had it. Nothing hints at there being an opportunity for me to have this job. Which, sadly, gives me ridiculous levels of false hope.
1) Repeated Trip Tik user/enthusiast
2) Map Enjoyer
3) I LOVE DRIVING DIRECTIONS!
Two questions:
1) Do these things belong in a cover letter?
2) How do I express these statements without sounding like an asshole?
Technically, it doesn't even make sense for me to apply. The job's been posted a week already. They'll probably want to hire soon. Sooner than I'm going to be in the area. Sooner than will allow for us to move and acquire a second vehicle.
Sucky. I would absolutely love this job. How often does AAA hire Trip Tik assemblers? It doesn't seem like a job someone would give up once they had it. Nothing hints at there being an opportunity for me to have this job. Which, sadly, gives me ridiculous levels of false hope.
04 May 2006
med head
It's too easy to fall behind with the computer. I'm two birthday cards off my pace, and minor events that necessitate fragmented half-paragraph summaries are stacking (and quickly being forgotten).
I've been sick with something for over a week. Not anything normal or easily identified. It involves coughing, something sore or swollen in my neck (I'd say throat, but it feels lower than that), and, as of yesterday, a tight, nauseous feeling in my chest. Different symptoms are showcased each day...some days I don't cough until bedtime, others I cough nonstop. Yesterday, Jeremy suggested we pick up medication. We were already at WalMart to pick up some workpants (I've split two pairs of pants under Movie Gallery's employ. Granted, I should've known better than to buy linen pants last time, but my judgement was clouded by the prettiness of the Brunswick Target), so medicine seemed like maybe a good idea. Not knowing what to look for made it tricky. I don't have a cold, or the flu really. It's a grab-bag of symptoms which translate into nothing that makes sense. I opted for Coricidin HPB Maximum Strength Flu, which covered most of my ailments with the least mention of problems I don't currently have. It helped! I took my first dose in the car, washed down with a grape Crush (which is deliciously fruity - never will I deny myself Crush for so long again). By the time we got back to the apartment, I was feeling pretty damn good (I understand why the Coricidin required ID with purchase). I wiped out on the couch about 40 minutes later, woken only to be moved upstairs two hours later. I slept in a horizontal position (progress!), and didn't wake up until morning.
Birthmas was about what I expected. Stressful, but fun. Mom showed up before 8:00 a.m., which pleased me not at all. But we had muffins and coffee, and it was fine. She told me she signed up for Match.com, and we spent the better part of the morning looking at her profile and winking at eligible bachelors. Surprisingly fun! Anne and Bart arrived around 2:30, and the festivities began. Lots of food, chit-chat, presents, movies, etc. Mom took off late Sunday morning, and Jeremy's parents left about an hour after that.
I was in Portland on Tuesday to meet up with my friend Crystal for lunch. It rained, of course. But we had lunch at the Oriental Table, and got frappes at Beal's (CAKE BATTER FRAPPE! It was great, I highly recommend it). Thoroughly drenched, we decided to drive somewhere. Since Crystal had yet to experience the South Portland Target, I happily became her enabler. That was the day that God smiled down from heaven onto my lovely wallet - all five seasons of Gilmore Girls were on sale. $22 a piece. I purchased the two seasons that rounded off my collection (with some guilt and a fair amount of deliberation). That was a good day.
I've been dreaming bizarrely - I no longer remember the specifics of this particular dream, but at one point I was in a bathroom of the 7th Heaven house, dancing awkwardly on the toilet while Verne Troyer peeped through the wall.
I hate to end there, but that's all I've got.
I've been sick with something for over a week. Not anything normal or easily identified. It involves coughing, something sore or swollen in my neck (I'd say throat, but it feels lower than that), and, as of yesterday, a tight, nauseous feeling in my chest. Different symptoms are showcased each day...some days I don't cough until bedtime, others I cough nonstop. Yesterday, Jeremy suggested we pick up medication. We were already at WalMart to pick up some workpants (I've split two pairs of pants under Movie Gallery's employ. Granted, I should've known better than to buy linen pants last time, but my judgement was clouded by the prettiness of the Brunswick Target), so medicine seemed like maybe a good idea. Not knowing what to look for made it tricky. I don't have a cold, or the flu really. It's a grab-bag of symptoms which translate into nothing that makes sense. I opted for Coricidin HPB Maximum Strength Flu, which covered most of my ailments with the least mention of problems I don't currently have. It helped! I took my first dose in the car, washed down with a grape Crush (which is deliciously fruity - never will I deny myself Crush for so long again). By the time we got back to the apartment, I was feeling pretty damn good (I understand why the Coricidin required ID with purchase). I wiped out on the couch about 40 minutes later, woken only to be moved upstairs two hours later. I slept in a horizontal position (progress!), and didn't wake up until morning.
Birthmas was about what I expected. Stressful, but fun. Mom showed up before 8:00 a.m., which pleased me not at all. But we had muffins and coffee, and it was fine. She told me she signed up for Match.com, and we spent the better part of the morning looking at her profile and winking at eligible bachelors. Surprisingly fun! Anne and Bart arrived around 2:30, and the festivities began. Lots of food, chit-chat, presents, movies, etc. Mom took off late Sunday morning, and Jeremy's parents left about an hour after that.
I was in Portland on Tuesday to meet up with my friend Crystal for lunch. It rained, of course. But we had lunch at the Oriental Table, and got frappes at Beal's (CAKE BATTER FRAPPE! It was great, I highly recommend it). Thoroughly drenched, we decided to drive somewhere. Since Crystal had yet to experience the South Portland Target, I happily became her enabler. That was the day that God smiled down from heaven onto my lovely wallet - all five seasons of Gilmore Girls were on sale. $22 a piece. I purchased the two seasons that rounded off my collection (with some guilt and a fair amount of deliberation). That was a good day.
I've been dreaming bizarrely - I no longer remember the specifics of this particular dream, but at one point I was in a bathroom of the 7th Heaven house, dancing awkwardly on the toilet while Verne Troyer peeped through the wall.
I hate to end there, but that's all I've got.
28 April 2006
let the festivities begin!
It's Birthmas weekend! Today I woke up at 7:00 a.m., independent of an alarm, and not requiring coffee to function (but still poured myself a cup of yesterday's finest, because who am I kidding?). No one is arriving today, thanks in part to my quick-thinking and knowing how to appease my mother (I promised her low-fat muffins and a nice early start to the day if she waited until Saturday to arrive. She'll be here at 8:00 tomorrow. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make).
Today is my preparatory cleaning day. As I've mentioned before, I don't anticipate guests where cleaning is concerned. So I've got fixtures to chip toothpaste spittle off of, old bottles to toss, carpets to vacuum, walls to wash (but I'll draw the line there, because, again, who am I kidding?), plus dishes and laundry and clearing spare rooms of book sale overflow (we have yet to acquire bookshelves, so we've got mounds of old paperbacks flowing out of milk crates in every room of the apartment. Makes for good browsing?) I'm almost looking forward to cleaning. Something about turning it into a big event, where I can open windows, and burn a CD "soundtrack" of sorts, makes it exciting. Tonight, after Jeremy gets home, we're going to do some gift shopping. Every person spends $10 in stocking gifts on the others, and then buys Jeremy a birthday present...that way it's not too pricey, and no one has more presents than the birthday boy. I also need to make a cake - I have a borderline-sacrilegious design in mind (that I cleared with Jeremy's mom in advance, just in case)...it'll read "Happy Birthday Jesus and Jeremy!" and they'll be sitting around a cake, blowing out candles together. I'm thinking yellow or marble cake, with cream cheese frosting (the tastiest easy option where food coloring is concerned).
What else? Camper Man has a gun. But he also has a sane, well-dressed, nice-seeming brother, who shed some light on the situation. His existence made the gun thing way less scary. In case anyone cared (which is hard to gauge), he's apparently saving up money to buy the house he grew up in, and decided that until he had enough, he would live in his camper. The house is - you guessed it! - in Jay (which, and I feel bad saying it, all seems too sane to be true). So in the meantime, he's stalking the plaza, pissing on the seats of McDonalds, etc. On Tuesday, two of the regular kids (aged 12/13) were coming in (they hang out with whoever is working, because, according to one of their mothers, Movie Gallery is the alternative to "trouble". So they come in, we let them re-shelf movies, and give them a free soda in exchange) as Camper Man was going into Wah Garden, the Chinese food establishment one door to the left. He pulled one of the kids aside as the other entered the store. He had told the kid not to come into Movie Gallery, because the boy who had just gone in was going to steal. The kid came in and told us what had just transpired, and I was pissed. If Camper Man had come in after that, Bad Fannie would've ripped him a new one. You don't DO that! He doesn't know the kid he labeled as a thief! He's a sweeping judgement kind of guy. I've had a few crazy interactions with him...but he's stopped coming in for the most part. That guy better have mental problems, or else he's the hugest, creepiest asshole on the planet.
Well, I suppose I should start my day. Jeremy will be getting up soon. I'll make my cleaning CD while he showers, then jump into my day. If you don't hear from me by the end of the weekend, then the stress killed me. Don't send flowers - just make a donation in my name to the charity of your choice. Or buy yourself some nice shoes.
Today is my preparatory cleaning day. As I've mentioned before, I don't anticipate guests where cleaning is concerned. So I've got fixtures to chip toothpaste spittle off of, old bottles to toss, carpets to vacuum, walls to wash (but I'll draw the line there, because, again, who am I kidding?), plus dishes and laundry and clearing spare rooms of book sale overflow (we have yet to acquire bookshelves, so we've got mounds of old paperbacks flowing out of milk crates in every room of the apartment. Makes for good browsing?) I'm almost looking forward to cleaning. Something about turning it into a big event, where I can open windows, and burn a CD "soundtrack" of sorts, makes it exciting. Tonight, after Jeremy gets home, we're going to do some gift shopping. Every person spends $10 in stocking gifts on the others, and then buys Jeremy a birthday present...that way it's not too pricey, and no one has more presents than the birthday boy. I also need to make a cake - I have a borderline-sacrilegious design in mind (that I cleared with Jeremy's mom in advance, just in case)...it'll read "Happy Birthday Jesus and Jeremy!" and they'll be sitting around a cake, blowing out candles together. I'm thinking yellow or marble cake, with cream cheese frosting (the tastiest easy option where food coloring is concerned).
What else? Camper Man has a gun. But he also has a sane, well-dressed, nice-seeming brother, who shed some light on the situation. His existence made the gun thing way less scary. In case anyone cared (which is hard to gauge), he's apparently saving up money to buy the house he grew up in, and decided that until he had enough, he would live in his camper. The house is - you guessed it! - in Jay (which, and I feel bad saying it, all seems too sane to be true). So in the meantime, he's stalking the plaza, pissing on the seats of McDonalds, etc. On Tuesday, two of the regular kids (aged 12/13) were coming in (they hang out with whoever is working, because, according to one of their mothers, Movie Gallery is the alternative to "trouble". So they come in, we let them re-shelf movies, and give them a free soda in exchange) as Camper Man was going into Wah Garden, the Chinese food establishment one door to the left. He pulled one of the kids aside as the other entered the store. He had told the kid not to come into Movie Gallery, because the boy who had just gone in was going to steal. The kid came in and told us what had just transpired, and I was pissed. If Camper Man had come in after that, Bad Fannie would've ripped him a new one. You don't DO that! He doesn't know the kid he labeled as a thief! He's a sweeping judgement kind of guy. I've had a few crazy interactions with him...but he's stopped coming in for the most part. That guy better have mental problems, or else he's the hugest, creepiest asshole on the planet.
Well, I suppose I should start my day. Jeremy will be getting up soon. I'll make my cleaning CD while he showers, then jump into my day. If you don't hear from me by the end of the weekend, then the stress killed me. Don't send flowers - just make a donation in my name to the charity of your choice. Or buy yourself some nice shoes.
13 April 2006
smarter, fitter, cleaner (almost.)
Twice in the past two weeks, first by an old man and second by a five-year-old boy, I've been told I should finish college. In neither instance were we discussing college, or even my personal history. I don't tend to engage customers - especially the pre-school aged ones - with my schooling history. Weird, right? How do kids that young even know what college is?
Work's been pretty good. I work lots of day shifts now, which is a nice change. More tasks! Mondays are my favorite day of the week these days...I spend most of the day shifting the wall while Tami helps customers, then we order lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon sitting around.
As the weather gets nicer, the shifts feel longer. The difference between last week and this week, customer-wise, has been shocking. From 1-6 yesterday I saw, at most, nine customers. This doesn't include people who drop off a movie and leave, because they tend to ignore my pleasantries. I quickly run out of things to do. And since Camper Man started parking across the street in the deserted Jay Family Restaurant parking lot, with the vehicle facing Jay Plaza (and since we also learned that as of late he's become quite the picture taker), I don't like going outside. So I've taken to entertaining myself indoors. Earlier in the week I walked laps through the aisles. A different kind of walk each pass. Some hip-intensive crazy walks, some speed, some slow, some ?, and yesterday I turned the center lane into a catwalk of sorts. I went to the back of the store and faced forward. From there I would jog to the $5 bins (not too far from the counter), and then backwards jog back to the back of the store. I felt and looked retarded, but also invigorated and refreshed. Since I've yet to start jogging outside (between the surprise mini snow storm and my gross cold, nature's been throwing symbolic wrenches into my plans, perhaps telling me that I should not run?), these spurts of cardiovascular activity are the next best thing...not to mention that an hour of aerobic ass-making nets me $6. And it passes the time. Win-win-win!
It's either a sign of age, general maturity, or speaks to the quality of their programming, but The History Channel has been airing a ten-part series called "10 Days that Unexpectedly Changed America", and it's fantastic. Ten hour-long documentaries, each featuring a particular country-shaping event, airing two per night (culminating tonight with days nine and ten). I'm riveted! Either I didn't give a crap about history before, or maybe the History Channel weaves a web better than any of my history teachers ever did, but I feel...I don't even know. Smarter. More involved. Like I want to know more. I've been turned onto the Science Channel in the last year, too. I recently failed an attempt at Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" - every time I sat down to a new installment, I immediately fell asleep. Not that the cosmos aren't fascinating, just that Carl Sagan's a calm and sleepy kind of guy.
Easter is this Sunday. I have no plans. Next weekend I go to Portland for Michelle's birthday, and the weekend after that is Birthmas. As of yet, I'm not stressing out, because last time I spoke to my mother we had a pretty good conversation. I have plenty of cleaning to do in the meantime. I made sure to get Friday of that week off, so I could bleach and spray every surface of our home. Why I don't keep up with this stuff, I will never know. Where's the excitement in being prepared for guests, right?
Work's been pretty good. I work lots of day shifts now, which is a nice change. More tasks! Mondays are my favorite day of the week these days...I spend most of the day shifting the wall while Tami helps customers, then we order lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon sitting around.
As the weather gets nicer, the shifts feel longer. The difference between last week and this week, customer-wise, has been shocking. From 1-6 yesterday I saw, at most, nine customers. This doesn't include people who drop off a movie and leave, because they tend to ignore my pleasantries. I quickly run out of things to do. And since Camper Man started parking across the street in the deserted Jay Family Restaurant parking lot, with the vehicle facing Jay Plaza (and since we also learned that as of late he's become quite the picture taker), I don't like going outside. So I've taken to entertaining myself indoors. Earlier in the week I walked laps through the aisles. A different kind of walk each pass. Some hip-intensive crazy walks, some speed, some slow, some ?, and yesterday I turned the center lane into a catwalk of sorts. I went to the back of the store and faced forward. From there I would jog to the $5 bins (not too far from the counter), and then backwards jog back to the back of the store. I felt and looked retarded, but also invigorated and refreshed. Since I've yet to start jogging outside (between the surprise mini snow storm and my gross cold, nature's been throwing symbolic wrenches into my plans, perhaps telling me that I should not run?), these spurts of cardiovascular activity are the next best thing...not to mention that an hour of aerobic ass-making nets me $6. And it passes the time. Win-win-win!
It's either a sign of age, general maturity, or speaks to the quality of their programming, but The History Channel has been airing a ten-part series called "10 Days that Unexpectedly Changed America", and it's fantastic. Ten hour-long documentaries, each featuring a particular country-shaping event, airing two per night (culminating tonight with days nine and ten). I'm riveted! Either I didn't give a crap about history before, or maybe the History Channel weaves a web better than any of my history teachers ever did, but I feel...I don't even know. Smarter. More involved. Like I want to know more. I've been turned onto the Science Channel in the last year, too. I recently failed an attempt at Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" - every time I sat down to a new installment, I immediately fell asleep. Not that the cosmos aren't fascinating, just that Carl Sagan's a calm and sleepy kind of guy.
Easter is this Sunday. I have no plans. Next weekend I go to Portland for Michelle's birthday, and the weekend after that is Birthmas. As of yet, I'm not stressing out, because last time I spoke to my mother we had a pretty good conversation. I have plenty of cleaning to do in the meantime. I made sure to get Friday of that week off, so I could bleach and spray every surface of our home. Why I don't keep up with this stuff, I will never know. Where's the excitement in being prepared for guests, right?
30 March 2006
ship it good
We went to Portland last weekend. We left Jay around 10:30 a.m. Saturday, in order to get to the Portland Public Library by noon (they were having their book sale, and noon was when prices were slashed - ten cents per paperback, fifty cents per hardcover). We, as always, were late, but Emily S., who met us there, knew this was likely going to be the case. She herself had just gotten there when we arrived at ten past. We talked, mocked, browsed and made purchases. I think we were at the religion table when I was sharing my UMF tale, about not being accepted, about hearing that they weren't necessarily a non-traditional campus, feeling weird about it, etc., when a strange gal (late twenties, early thirties?) came up to me. I will abridge the encounter.
"Hi, did you just say University of Maine in Farmington? I just applied there. I have a 3.0, what was your GPA? (my answer: "Actually, I don't know.") I've been told I'm inspirational, I survived cancer you know. Then there was the abuse. I just submitted my essay. I think I'll get in. So you didn't get in? I think I have a good shot. Do you think I'll get in? I've been told I'm an inspiration."
There were also questions about how Emily and I knew each other. Jeremy had long since defected to a far corner of the auditorium. Emily eventually followed. I did my best to maintain politeness while this girl followed me around the book sale. I later managed a subtle, natural escape. Not that I didn't feel sorry for this girl. I don't imagine she has many friends to talk to if she can walk up to strangers and unload like that. But it's hard to sympathize when your sad tale so perfectly highlights my general feeling of inferiority. I threw lots of "that DOES sound inspirational! I'm sure, despite the university's tendency not to admit non-traditional students, that you will be the exception to the rule." and "yeah, my GPA was nowhere near 3.0, so that'll help."
From there, we went to the public market for coffee. We caught up (we hadn't seen each other in who knows how long, and had been trying to make plans to get together for the last ten months), reminisced, and went to browse at Material Objects. We didn't last long there, and parted ways shortly thereafter. We stopped in at Clay City to make plans with the other Emily, and popped into Videoport to visit and get movies. Jeremy and I had a late lunch at the Oriental Table (the best food on the eastern seaboard).
We went to Michelle and David's from there, where we met their new cat, and watched The Adventures of Pete and Pete on DVD. Emily came over after work, and she, me and Michelle went to Target. There was lots of almost-purchasing, and Michelle inadvertently asked a stockboy we had just deemed excessively bootylicious about where we might find contact paper. We had Target Dogs, and an enlightening debate over natural cures for yeast infections (garlic vs yogurt). I think it was the first time we all hung out together, without the men. It was the highlight of my weekend.
Once we were back, we watched three Garfield specials, and prepared ourselves for Ruskis. We went at 11:00, and were the first ones there. A few people later tricked in, and it was a nice, calm evening. Emily S. showed up, as she's dating one of Jeremy's Videoport pals, so I spent a large portion of the evening chatting with her. From there we went back to Dennis's, watched some Robot Chicken (not a funny show, but not unfunny either), and went to bed. The next morning we woke up entirely too early, and went to breakfast with Jackie. We stopped in to see if Em and the Joes were around, but alas, they were out. Which worked fine for us, because we were ready to go home.
___
Every Wednesday, the following week's new releases are sent to us via Fed Ex. Our Fed Ex guy is exceptionally nice-looking. Tami and I are the only ones who ever have to deal with him, so we will talk about his hair cut, how he shaved his beard, etc. At one point he was a quiet and shy delivery guy. Last week, however, the movies came on Tuesday, and Tami was there alone. She's a tell-it-like-it-is type, and I think she told it. Right to him. Because yesterday, Mr. Fex Ex Ground came in, and was perky and chatty... I commented on the exceptional temperatures outside, and he told me that he was going to have to pull out the Fex Ex shorts soon, because he was getting sweaty and people were complaining! And he said it with the shamelessness of a guy who's suddenly found his confidence. Naughty Fex Ex guy! I laughed about his shorts for the rest of the afternoon. Shameless, I tell you. I love this town.
"Hi, did you just say University of Maine in Farmington? I just applied there. I have a 3.0, what was your GPA? (my answer: "Actually, I don't know.") I've been told I'm inspirational, I survived cancer you know. Then there was the abuse. I just submitted my essay. I think I'll get in. So you didn't get in? I think I have a good shot. Do you think I'll get in? I've been told I'm an inspiration."
There were also questions about how Emily and I knew each other. Jeremy had long since defected to a far corner of the auditorium. Emily eventually followed. I did my best to maintain politeness while this girl followed me around the book sale. I later managed a subtle, natural escape. Not that I didn't feel sorry for this girl. I don't imagine she has many friends to talk to if she can walk up to strangers and unload like that. But it's hard to sympathize when your sad tale so perfectly highlights my general feeling of inferiority. I threw lots of "that DOES sound inspirational! I'm sure, despite the university's tendency not to admit non-traditional students, that you will be the exception to the rule." and "yeah, my GPA was nowhere near 3.0, so that'll help."
From there, we went to the public market for coffee. We caught up (we hadn't seen each other in who knows how long, and had been trying to make plans to get together for the last ten months), reminisced, and went to browse at Material Objects. We didn't last long there, and parted ways shortly thereafter. We stopped in at Clay City to make plans with the other Emily, and popped into Videoport to visit and get movies. Jeremy and I had a late lunch at the Oriental Table (the best food on the eastern seaboard).
We went to Michelle and David's from there, where we met their new cat, and watched The Adventures of Pete and Pete on DVD. Emily came over after work, and she, me and Michelle went to Target. There was lots of almost-purchasing, and Michelle inadvertently asked a stockboy we had just deemed excessively bootylicious about where we might find contact paper. We had Target Dogs, and an enlightening debate over natural cures for yeast infections (garlic vs yogurt). I think it was the first time we all hung out together, without the men. It was the highlight of my weekend.
Once we were back, we watched three Garfield specials, and prepared ourselves for Ruskis. We went at 11:00, and were the first ones there. A few people later tricked in, and it was a nice, calm evening. Emily S. showed up, as she's dating one of Jeremy's Videoport pals, so I spent a large portion of the evening chatting with her. From there we went back to Dennis's, watched some Robot Chicken (not a funny show, but not unfunny either), and went to bed. The next morning we woke up entirely too early, and went to breakfast with Jackie. We stopped in to see if Em and the Joes were around, but alas, they were out. Which worked fine for us, because we were ready to go home.
___
Every Wednesday, the following week's new releases are sent to us via Fed Ex. Our Fed Ex guy is exceptionally nice-looking. Tami and I are the only ones who ever have to deal with him, so we will talk about his hair cut, how he shaved his beard, etc. At one point he was a quiet and shy delivery guy. Last week, however, the movies came on Tuesday, and Tami was there alone. She's a tell-it-like-it-is type, and I think she told it. Right to him. Because yesterday, Mr. Fex Ex Ground came in, and was perky and chatty... I commented on the exceptional temperatures outside, and he told me that he was going to have to pull out the Fex Ex shorts soon, because he was getting sweaty and people were complaining! And he said it with the shamelessness of a guy who's suddenly found his confidence. Naughty Fex Ex guy! I laughed about his shorts for the rest of the afternoon. Shameless, I tell you. I love this town.
23 March 2006
pu pu for who?
I had coffee for the first (...and second...and third) time this morning since last week. My addiction was being fueled by something else completely. FULL THROTTLE FURY! It's the Coca Cola energy drink that Movie Gallery bigwigs decided to stock our cooler with. I tried it out of curiosity (because its arrival instigated the creepiest, most insane conversation with Camper Man I've ever had to endure), and was immediately hooked. To taste, it's kind of like tangerine and pomegranate, plus carbonation. One 16-ounce can will jack you up beyond acceptable levels of crazy. Needless to say, we all got hooked. They originally sent twenty-four. Between five of us, it was gone within the week. I'm desperate for more to be delivered. There's no guarantee of that happening. Some poor hack in Alabama ultimately decides whether I ever get to enjoy the sweet caffeinated nectar again. To make matters worse, no one else in the area stocks this liquid gold! It's cruel, really.
I'm increasingly conflicted about MySpace. I'm being found by people I haven't spoken to in years. My high school is simultaneously discovering the site, and suddenly it's like Classmates.com, but without having to pay money. But there's something flawed in addressing everyone you know at the same time. I can't really write blogs there, because not everyone gets the funny! Many people aren't privvy to what's in Fannie's head. I'm constantly editing and censoring myself. Not that that's a bad thing...thinking about what I'm saying tends to be good for me...but there are limits. Still, it's interesting. *sigh*
Things are pretty calm. Life's been living itself for the most part. March has flown by. Oh, the ladybugs are back. A sign that spring has sprung? Sure! But we're still sleeping on the floor. It seems like too-easy access. We seriously need to buy a bed.
April Walsh is going to be ridiculously famous. Why? Because I said so. And she could totally play 16, ask anyone.
Jeremy and I are going to Portland this weekend. It's been awhile since we've seen anyone, and our schedules worked themselves out enough to allow a trip. Almost everyone we know lives in Portland, which means that by the time Sunday rolls around, we'll be back to never again wanting to associate with people.
We're officially thinking about moving. Sometime between May and September, preferably to the Brunswick area. It's close enough to places we like to be while also being a comfortable 30-minutes from everything we sometimes like to avoid. And they just built a Target in Topsham! Is that a sign or what?!
And as abruptly as it began, it ends.
I'm increasingly conflicted about MySpace. I'm being found by people I haven't spoken to in years. My high school is simultaneously discovering the site, and suddenly it's like Classmates.com, but without having to pay money. But there's something flawed in addressing everyone you know at the same time. I can't really write blogs there, because not everyone gets the funny! Many people aren't privvy to what's in Fannie's head. I'm constantly editing and censoring myself. Not that that's a bad thing...thinking about what I'm saying tends to be good for me...but there are limits. Still, it's interesting. *sigh*
Things are pretty calm. Life's been living itself for the most part. March has flown by. Oh, the ladybugs are back. A sign that spring has sprung? Sure! But we're still sleeping on the floor. It seems like too-easy access. We seriously need to buy a bed.
April Walsh is going to be ridiculously famous. Why? Because I said so. And she could totally play 16, ask anyone.
Jeremy and I are going to Portland this weekend. It's been awhile since we've seen anyone, and our schedules worked themselves out enough to allow a trip. Almost everyone we know lives in Portland, which means that by the time Sunday rolls around, we'll be back to never again wanting to associate with people.
We're officially thinking about moving. Sometime between May and September, preferably to the Brunswick area. It's close enough to places we like to be while also being a comfortable 30-minutes from everything we sometimes like to avoid. And they just built a Target in Topsham! Is that a sign or what?!
And as abruptly as it began, it ends.
14 March 2006
thank heavens for little girls selling overpriced cookies
I found a girl scout!
Penny, aunt of Tami (and co-Movie Gallery worker from another store), has a daughter who's a scout. I overheard cookie talk yesterday, and managed to make it known that I was more than willing to make the acquisition of cookies worthwhile for everyone involved. I got a box each of what used to be Samoas and Tagalongs, and a box of Thin Mints (everyone likes Thin Mints!) Much to my surprise, they were delivered today. (Tami bought roughly a case of each cookie, so she's selling off her wares. The girl scouts generally make their rounds in January, I'm told). So I made a pot of coffee, and limiting myself to two of each cookie today. I pounded the "Peanut Butter Patties" (sounds stupid, doesn't it? Maybe a letter-writing campaign might convince Girl Scouts of America to change the names back?) before changing out of my work clothes, and am currently savoring my Samoas (I forget the new name...it's not worth remembering). Thin Mints, however, are an after-dinner cookie. They're for later.
After work I decided to change into a shirt I don't often wear. I spend almost all my time in a red polo shirt and khaki pants. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'll come home and change into one of two hooded sweatshirts (the green or the brown stripey) and pajama pants. Most of my clothing never gets worn. Between not fitting as well as it used to, and not being warm enough (we heat as little as possible), most of my wardrobe gets no face time. I opted for a tan and black striped turtleneck that I bought from a thrift store in Washington, and I hate it. It's a great shirt...but it doesn't silence the voice telling me that the green sweatshirt has yet to reach it's filth maximum, and is still entirely wearable.
Huh, what other girly and uninteresting things can I talk about? My hair! It's long now. Not long long, but longer than any other time in my life. I've always been a short-hair person. But right now I have a pony tail on top of my head, and most of it is still in the elastic! It's bizarre. I finally learned how to break through the awkward-length desperation trim:
Step 1: Spend the better part of the year unemployed, allowing bills to pile up. Poverty plays a key role in hair growth.
Step 2: Move to the foothills of western Maine, where you could sooner find four wheeler outfitters than hairdressers.
Step 3: Date someone who refuses to cut the back of your hair, even if you're only asking them to cut a straight line, and you'd set the length by cutting the sides in advance.
It's as easy as that, ladies (and gents...though you should know, your hair looks better short). Within six months, your hair will cease to spike when you put it up (you'll miss the spikes, as they were kind of funny, but you'll eventually move on). I might eventually cut it, but probably not before we move. The effort isn't worth the hassle, and it doesn't look awkward anymore. Not that I ever wear it down. I'm not a long-hair person. Pony tail, 24-7.
Penny, aunt of Tami (and co-Movie Gallery worker from another store), has a daughter who's a scout. I overheard cookie talk yesterday, and managed to make it known that I was more than willing to make the acquisition of cookies worthwhile for everyone involved. I got a box each of what used to be Samoas and Tagalongs, and a box of Thin Mints (everyone likes Thin Mints!) Much to my surprise, they were delivered today. (Tami bought roughly a case of each cookie, so she's selling off her wares. The girl scouts generally make their rounds in January, I'm told). So I made a pot of coffee, and limiting myself to two of each cookie today. I pounded the "Peanut Butter Patties" (sounds stupid, doesn't it? Maybe a letter-writing campaign might convince Girl Scouts of America to change the names back?) before changing out of my work clothes, and am currently savoring my Samoas (I forget the new name...it's not worth remembering). Thin Mints, however, are an after-dinner cookie. They're for later.
After work I decided to change into a shirt I don't often wear. I spend almost all my time in a red polo shirt and khaki pants. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'll come home and change into one of two hooded sweatshirts (the green or the brown stripey) and pajama pants. Most of my clothing never gets worn. Between not fitting as well as it used to, and not being warm enough (we heat as little as possible), most of my wardrobe gets no face time. I opted for a tan and black striped turtleneck that I bought from a thrift store in Washington, and I hate it. It's a great shirt...but it doesn't silence the voice telling me that the green sweatshirt has yet to reach it's filth maximum, and is still entirely wearable.
Huh, what other girly and uninteresting things can I talk about? My hair! It's long now. Not long long, but longer than any other time in my life. I've always been a short-hair person. But right now I have a pony tail on top of my head, and most of it is still in the elastic! It's bizarre. I finally learned how to break through the awkward-length desperation trim:
Step 1: Spend the better part of the year unemployed, allowing bills to pile up. Poverty plays a key role in hair growth.
Step 2: Move to the foothills of western Maine, where you could sooner find four wheeler outfitters than hairdressers.
Step 3: Date someone who refuses to cut the back of your hair, even if you're only asking them to cut a straight line, and you'd set the length by cutting the sides in advance.
It's as easy as that, ladies (and gents...though you should know, your hair looks better short). Within six months, your hair will cease to spike when you put it up (you'll miss the spikes, as they were kind of funny, but you'll eventually move on). I might eventually cut it, but probably not before we move. The effort isn't worth the hassle, and it doesn't look awkward anymore. Not that I ever wear it down. I'm not a long-hair person. Pony tail, 24-7.
10 March 2006
on my general health
One morning last week, as I prepared myself for work, I noticed that I looked...different. I couldn't pinpoint what had changed. "Have I aged?" "Am I tan?" I asked Jeremy. He wasn't sure. Were my eyebrows plucked into a shape foreign to my face? Not as far as I could tell. I finished getting ready with little thought on the matter, and went about my day as any other. Last night, I figured it out. Expansion.
My face is larger.
Not behemoth large, but let's say I were to trip and land on my head. The fall would be cushioned. I clearly remember the resolution to make an effort to stand and wave my arms around every once in awhile. So far, the standing more closely resembles sitting, and the waving of arms has been replaced with general motionlessness. And it's not just my face. It's also my upper arms, thighs and abdomen. My neck, god bless it, still looks sleek as ever. But at the rate of expansion going on just to the north, my head mass will inevitably crush vertebras C1 thru 7 faster than the decision to wait another ten minutes to get up to pee.
So I'm snapping into action! I'm starting small...crunches and sitbacks (the opposite of the sit-up; I throw my torso face-first over the arm of the couch, and use my back to pull myself up). Fifteen of each today, because I'm not in good shape. Tomorrow I'm pulling out the dumbbells to do arm stuff. Also, after some chatting with Emily, I've decided to attempt jogging. The recent snowfall influenced the delay in setting a start date. I'm thinking maybe April 1st (which is appropriate, since jogging will be a huge practical joke on my cardiovascular system). In the meantime I'll be physically preparing. I remembered the existence of the "Couch to 5K", and will follow it. I'm pretty jazzed about it. My stomach is a worthless lump of flesh right now, but my back is fitter than I anticipated.
That's all on the subject for now. I have other things to talk about. Namely, Good Night, and Good Luck. I contemplated expounding at length about how much I love this movie, and why. But I don't want to overhype it. I will say that if you don't plan to watch it, you will be missing out. I liked the way it was approached, the way it was shot...I ADORED the cast (even Patricia Clarkson, who I'm still not sure why she keeps showing up in movies). The commentary was great, the featurette is entirely watchable...I'm saying too much. Forget my fawning. Instead, I'll say "it's a good movie". If you happen to love it, tell me. I could talk about this movie all day. It comes out Tuesday.
My face is larger.
Not behemoth large, but let's say I were to trip and land on my head. The fall would be cushioned. I clearly remember the resolution to make an effort to stand and wave my arms around every once in awhile. So far, the standing more closely resembles sitting, and the waving of arms has been replaced with general motionlessness. And it's not just my face. It's also my upper arms, thighs and abdomen. My neck, god bless it, still looks sleek as ever. But at the rate of expansion going on just to the north, my head mass will inevitably crush vertebras C1 thru 7 faster than the decision to wait another ten minutes to get up to pee.
So I'm snapping into action! I'm starting small...crunches and sitbacks (the opposite of the sit-up; I throw my torso face-first over the arm of the couch, and use my back to pull myself up). Fifteen of each today, because I'm not in good shape. Tomorrow I'm pulling out the dumbbells to do arm stuff. Also, after some chatting with Emily, I've decided to attempt jogging. The recent snowfall influenced the delay in setting a start date. I'm thinking maybe April 1st (which is appropriate, since jogging will be a huge practical joke on my cardiovascular system). In the meantime I'll be physically preparing. I remembered the existence of the "Couch to 5K", and will follow it. I'm pretty jazzed about it. My stomach is a worthless lump of flesh right now, but my back is fitter than I anticipated.
That's all on the subject for now. I have other things to talk about. Namely, Good Night, and Good Luck. I contemplated expounding at length about how much I love this movie, and why. But I don't want to overhype it. I will say that if you don't plan to watch it, you will be missing out. I liked the way it was approached, the way it was shot...I ADORED the cast (even Patricia Clarkson, who I'm still not sure why she keeps showing up in movies). The commentary was great, the featurette is entirely watchable...I'm saying too much. Forget my fawning. Instead, I'll say "it's a good movie". If you happen to love it, tell me. I could talk about this movie all day. It comes out Tuesday.
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