It's official. I can't take me anywhere.
At the risk of sounding all girlie (and that sounds weird to some people, but when the majority of your friends are guys, they do forget you are a chick sometimes and become alarmed at feminine emotions. Therefore I always warn when it's about to happen.) I had to walk around Target yesterday pretending that tears were a result of some kind of violent allergy problem. Yes, I was crying at Target. Why is this, you may ask? Well, I did a stupid thing. I went to PetSmart while they were having a pet adoption. You all know my soft spot for puppies, or you should at least if you know me well. I walked up there determined that I wouldn't fall in love with any dogs and I'd just take the opportunity to see, and possibly hold, a puppy. Well, that was stupid. Almost the first thing I see is a pen full of Labridoodles (or maybe mutts, if you want to call a spade a spade) and they were all sleeping and being puppy-like. I wanted to pet them, but I knew if I did, I'd be in trouble. So I turned to the next pen and there was a black puppy that reminded me of Bear when he was about 12 weeks old. He was all alone, and he had his little paws up on the edge of the fence wanting attention. So I reached down to love on him and that's where I got into trouble. The lady who was watching over him told me his brother had just been adopted and this little guy was sad and confused. I bent down to see him better and he put his paws up on my shoulders and nosed the side of my face. The dog hugged me! I suddenly knew how Angelina Jolie feels like when she goes to a new country and sees a child she wants to take home! So I put his paws back on the ground and went on to Target. I wanted that dog, people. It was only the knowledge that A) Steve would be pissed and B) the killer B's would eat him, that restrained me from grabbing that dog and running towards the car. So I wound up trying to look allergic rather than sad as I walked down the sidewalk away from him.
Somtetimes being soft-hearted SUCKS!
Friday, April 27, 2007
Last minute projects. Finals. Work. Sick.
These are all reasons that you have not seen very much new stuff on my blog lately, if you've been checking, that is.
It seems like everything is bursting up around me all at once, as things are wont to do at the end of a long journey, I suppose. I can't say for certain, since I've never really had that many long journeys! That's a resounding BOO for me not having more concrete goals, I suppose. But hey, I'm working on it! : )
I finished my first final yesterday (woo-hoo) and since no one else was around, I had to settle for hugging my dogs in sheer delight of that fact. (You know, since Steve left me and all. For the week, people! For the week. Geez.) However, I can't say that was terrible, because I like to hug my dogs, and they were both very excited for me. I have one more final on Tuesday and then I will officially be done with school. Well, at least until I feel masochistic and go back for my masters someday...in about fifty years.
I actually have been doing lots of interesting stuff, but being so busy, I haven't had a chance to write about it. Don't worry, though, I will. I will also be taking a short sabbatical from the blog for some other reasons, but nothing too interesting. I suppose some of the joy has gone out of it lately, for one reason or another, but not all of it. Once I do finally get back and write up all of the stuff that has been going on, it'll likely take me a long entry, or two. : )
OK, so I leave you with this, and I'll talk to you soon!
These are all reasons that you have not seen very much new stuff on my blog lately, if you've been checking, that is.
It seems like everything is bursting up around me all at once, as things are wont to do at the end of a long journey, I suppose. I can't say for certain, since I've never really had that many long journeys! That's a resounding BOO for me not having more concrete goals, I suppose. But hey, I'm working on it! : )
I finished my first final yesterday (woo-hoo) and since no one else was around, I had to settle for hugging my dogs in sheer delight of that fact. (You know, since Steve left me and all. For the week, people! For the week. Geez.) However, I can't say that was terrible, because I like to hug my dogs, and they were both very excited for me. I have one more final on Tuesday and then I will officially be done with school. Well, at least until I feel masochistic and go back for my masters someday...in about fifty years.
I actually have been doing lots of interesting stuff, but being so busy, I haven't had a chance to write about it. Don't worry, though, I will. I will also be taking a short sabbatical from the blog for some other reasons, but nothing too interesting. I suppose some of the joy has gone out of it lately, for one reason or another, but not all of it. Once I do finally get back and write up all of the stuff that has been going on, it'll likely take me a long entry, or two. : )
OK, so I leave you with this, and I'll talk to you soon!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
THINKLINGS
- Do you know what sucks? I rarely use special creams on my face, mainly because I haven’t reached the age where the fear of wrinkles and such might nudge me to do so. Also, I don’t really know that much about that kind of stuff and I don’t feel like going to a dermatologist to ask. However, I got a free sample of this awesome stuff called Freeze 24/7 that has helped erase the duffle bags I get under my eyes from lack of sleep and school stress. It’s amazing how much of a difference it makes! So I thought that I would buy some so that I could keep using it. Not so much. Holy Botox, Batman! That stuff costs too much! They must literally use the blood of Martian virgins in it for it to be so expensive! I’ll stick with the duffle bags, I think.
- Something I learned from my trip to Miami and the subsequent troubles befallen me along the way. A pair of GAP jeans will only hold its proper molecular structure for three consecutive wearings without being washed. On that third day of wearing them, wear a belt or have emergency pants somewhere nearby, because those suckers are going to lose integrity.
- Allergies are evil. Pollen is Evil. Stopped up noses and scratchy throats are evil. Coughing is evil. However, sneezing is rather fun.
- I’d also like to thank all of the stank Meth addicts who have made it impossible for me to walk into a drug store and purchase any type of medicine that might actually relieve the symptoms of allergies without going through a three day waiting period and giving a DNA sample. Whatever the drug companies are putting in their OTC stuff now make them about as effective as swallowing a Skittle.
- David Tennant is so adorable. I know I’ve said this before, but I wanted to reiterate.
- Also, a Mr. Nibbles update! He apparently likes the graham crackers.
- Do you know what sucks? I rarely use special creams on my face, mainly because I haven’t reached the age where the fear of wrinkles and such might nudge me to do so. Also, I don’t really know that much about that kind of stuff and I don’t feel like going to a dermatologist to ask. However, I got a free sample of this awesome stuff called Freeze 24/7 that has helped erase the duffle bags I get under my eyes from lack of sleep and school stress. It’s amazing how much of a difference it makes! So I thought that I would buy some so that I could keep using it. Not so much. Holy Botox, Batman! That stuff costs too much! They must literally use the blood of Martian virgins in it for it to be so expensive! I’ll stick with the duffle bags, I think.
- Something I learned from my trip to Miami and the subsequent troubles befallen me along the way. A pair of GAP jeans will only hold its proper molecular structure for three consecutive wearings without being washed. On that third day of wearing them, wear a belt or have emergency pants somewhere nearby, because those suckers are going to lose integrity.
- Allergies are evil. Pollen is Evil. Stopped up noses and scratchy throats are evil. Coughing is evil. However, sneezing is rather fun.
- I’d also like to thank all of the stank Meth addicts who have made it impossible for me to walk into a drug store and purchase any type of medicine that might actually relieve the symptoms of allergies without going through a three day waiting period and giving a DNA sample. Whatever the drug companies are putting in their OTC stuff now make them about as effective as swallowing a Skittle.
- David Tennant is so adorable. I know I’ve said this before, but I wanted to reiterate.
- Also, a Mr. Nibbles update! He apparently likes the graham crackers.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Just a quick weekend update this time due to the fact that not much happened. Thursday night we had dinner with Josh and Sazio’s (we go there a lot so that he can use up the gift certificates he’s accumulated before that vow of poverty kicks in.) Friday night we had dinner with Anthony at Beauregard’s. That place always makes me feel a bit like Homer Simpson…mmmmmmmm, Beauregard’s. It’s one of my favorite places to eat! Afterwards we went to Books-A-Million to walk around. Very exciting.
Saturday, we didn’t have much planned except for working around the house, but very little got done. My allergies made me sleepy and pitiful and Steve got sick with some kind of stomach virus in the middle of the day. We thought it was just a reaction to taking some medicine without eating anything, at first, but as the day wore on, we realized he must have really been sick. He slept for a while and I made cookies. They are darn fine cookies, too! Oatmeal Cinnamon Chip, if you might indulge me to be specific. I never thought I could enjoy cookies that didn’t have chocolate in them so much!
Sunday was church day, of course. I backed off from going over to my parent’s house so I could stay home with Steve in case he needed anything. I was also scheduled to sing during the night service and I had found a website where I could download accompaniment tracks for .99 cents apiece. I was so glad, because I need some new music, but it’s a pain to go to the Christian Bookstore to find a tape or CD unless you are going out that way, and I wasn’t. Steve had been after me to sing “He Is Alive”, but I could never find it in my range. However, I did find it on this website! Woo-Hoo! Unfortunately, Steve was too sick to go to church that night, so I sang another song and promised to sing that one when he was able to hear me. I reiterate: I am the Best. Wife. Ever. After church I had to run an errand and got dinner for Steve and myself. Unfortunately, he got sick after eating just a little and then went to bed. Me, I hung out with the doggies and watched TV. Butler is doing much better and he says thank you all for your good wishes. He also said he wished you had sent bouquets of Snausages, but that he isn’t mad about it or anything. Bear knows that he wasn’t sick or recovering from surgery, but he wishes you had sent the Snausages, too.
On to the good news front! Sara is home! Not just out of the hospital, but out of Miami and back home–home. Her mom told me that she got in on Saturday. I could have gone and met them at the airport like a nice friend, but I was guessing that other people would be there to greet her AND she was probably exhausted from the flight. I hope to go and visit her soon, but I’m waiting for her to e-mail me and let me know she wants company. AHEM…HINT – HINT! I feel kind of bad because the last letter I sent her before Easter didn’t make it to her. I didn’t get it until Thursday of last week, but apparently I didn’t put enough postage on it. Well, that’s what they said, but I don’t see how. Stupid Postal Rates. : P
I have a new buddy at work.
I call him Mr. Nibbles. He is a little squirrel that has been visiting the balcony outside of my office. He’s a brave little soul, normally, but he has been jumpy today. I have been crumbling graham crackers up and leaving them outside, but he hasn’t been near them today. He came right up to me last Friday when I was standing by the screen door, but he seems a bit skittish if he thinks I’m going to come outside and grab him. I don’t know how, but I think he knows Steve made me taste squirrel once. Trust me, I don’t think I’m going to make eating them a habit. *shudder*
That is all.
Saturday, we didn’t have much planned except for working around the house, but very little got done. My allergies made me sleepy and pitiful and Steve got sick with some kind of stomach virus in the middle of the day. We thought it was just a reaction to taking some medicine without eating anything, at first, but as the day wore on, we realized he must have really been sick. He slept for a while and I made cookies. They are darn fine cookies, too! Oatmeal Cinnamon Chip, if you might indulge me to be specific. I never thought I could enjoy cookies that didn’t have chocolate in them so much!
Sunday was church day, of course. I backed off from going over to my parent’s house so I could stay home with Steve in case he needed anything. I was also scheduled to sing during the night service and I had found a website where I could download accompaniment tracks for .99 cents apiece. I was so glad, because I need some new music, but it’s a pain to go to the Christian Bookstore to find a tape or CD unless you are going out that way, and I wasn’t. Steve had been after me to sing “He Is Alive”, but I could never find it in my range. However, I did find it on this website! Woo-Hoo! Unfortunately, Steve was too sick to go to church that night, so I sang another song and promised to sing that one when he was able to hear me. I reiterate: I am the Best. Wife. Ever. After church I had to run an errand and got dinner for Steve and myself. Unfortunately, he got sick after eating just a little and then went to bed. Me, I hung out with the doggies and watched TV. Butler is doing much better and he says thank you all for your good wishes. He also said he wished you had sent bouquets of Snausages, but that he isn’t mad about it or anything. Bear knows that he wasn’t sick or recovering from surgery, but he wishes you had sent the Snausages, too.
On to the good news front! Sara is home! Not just out of the hospital, but out of Miami and back home–home. Her mom told me that she got in on Saturday. I could have gone and met them at the airport like a nice friend, but I was guessing that other people would be there to greet her AND she was probably exhausted from the flight. I hope to go and visit her soon, but I’m waiting for her to e-mail me and let me know she wants company. AHEM…HINT – HINT! I feel kind of bad because the last letter I sent her before Easter didn’t make it to her. I didn’t get it until Thursday of last week, but apparently I didn’t put enough postage on it. Well, that’s what they said, but I don’t see how. Stupid Postal Rates. : P
I have a new buddy at work.
I call him Mr. Nibbles. He is a little squirrel that has been visiting the balcony outside of my office. He’s a brave little soul, normally, but he has been jumpy today. I have been crumbling graham crackers up and leaving them outside, but he hasn’t been near them today. He came right up to me last Friday when I was standing by the screen door, but he seems a bit skittish if he thinks I’m going to come outside and grab him. I don’t know how, but I think he knows Steve made me taste squirrel once. Trust me, I don’t think I’m going to make eating them a habit. *shudder*That is all.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I'm sorry if you've been dropping by and have been bored with the same entries day after day. Normally I update my blog during slow time at work, but because our (expletive deleted) IT guy set a time limit on how long we can stay on certain sites, I don't ever have enough time to write what I want and still have enough time to publish it. I'd love to throw a dart at him.
Anyway...
There are two really good reasons why I should start having my eyebrows professionally waxed and stop doing it myself. Unfortunately they are both on my face. Oy. I know someone who will be investing in some eyebrow pencils very soon. Oh, and speaking of that, if you're talking to me and I look surprised...just ignore it.
Poor Butler had to go to the Vet yesterday and have some dental work done. He was only going in for a cleaning, but they found out that the tooth he broke was on the verge of being abscessed, so they had to pull it. To do so, they had to give him a general anaesthetic, so they had to shave a band around on of his legs to give him an IV. Now the neighbor dogs laugh at him. Very sad.
When Steve brought him home, he wondered around, looking dazed and staring at the wall. Occasionally he would stand by either Steve or I and just lean. Bless his little, furry heart. He walked into his kennel and I went to get him some cheese as a treat. After I'd given it to him, I walked out of the room again for a second to get something, and when I walked back in I said "Go to sleep, Butler" without looking at him. I didn't need to say anything because in that second and a half of being out of the room, he fell over and slept. :( He was actually really goofy until this afternoon, but he's acting more normal now.
I finished my research paper for Theater History. I wrote about - ahem - Visual Elements of Characters in Traditional Japanese Theater. Yeah, I know. It's actually thin enough to read through, but I hope it can pull off a B. I want to keep my honors status. Why? Because I'M GRADUATING SOON! WOO-HOO!
I faced a fear the other day and read, or listened to the audio novel of, The Exorcist. Believe it or not, it was actually a good book. Scary, but good. It didn't terrify me like the movie did, but I still got the heebs. Ed walked up behind me while I was listening to it and scared me. Luckily I had already put down the Exacto knife, or he would have needed a priest.
Steve and I went for a walk last Friday night and I realized something. I've realized that I will leave Steve behind if I feel we are in danger. I don't have to run fast, I just have to run faster than Steve! : ) We were at the elementary school where he had gone as a kid and he wanted to see if an old tree was still there. The original school was destroyed in the tornado of 89, so I suppose that's why he wanted to stop. It was dark, I wasn't wearing my hated glasses, and as we walked up to the tree, I saw a man crouching in the shadows. So I did what anyone would do, I pushed my husband out in front of me and ran. Boy, was my face red when I was told that the weird man in the shadows was actually a tall stump. Ha ha...ha...um.
Well, that's all for now. It seems like there was something else I was going to say, but I can't remember it!
Anyway...
There are two really good reasons why I should start having my eyebrows professionally waxed and stop doing it myself. Unfortunately they are both on my face. Oy. I know someone who will be investing in some eyebrow pencils very soon. Oh, and speaking of that, if you're talking to me and I look surprised...just ignore it.
Poor Butler had to go to the Vet yesterday and have some dental work done. He was only going in for a cleaning, but they found out that the tooth he broke was on the verge of being abscessed, so they had to pull it. To do so, they had to give him a general anaesthetic, so they had to shave a band around on of his legs to give him an IV. Now the neighbor dogs laugh at him. Very sad.
When Steve brought him home, he wondered around, looking dazed and staring at the wall. Occasionally he would stand by either Steve or I and just lean. Bless his little, furry heart. He walked into his kennel and I went to get him some cheese as a treat. After I'd given it to him, I walked out of the room again for a second to get something, and when I walked back in I said "Go to sleep, Butler" without looking at him. I didn't need to say anything because in that second and a half of being out of the room, he fell over and slept. :( He was actually really goofy until this afternoon, but he's acting more normal now.
I finished my research paper for Theater History. I wrote about - ahem - Visual Elements of Characters in Traditional Japanese Theater. Yeah, I know. It's actually thin enough to read through, but I hope it can pull off a B. I want to keep my honors status. Why? Because I'M GRADUATING SOON! WOO-HOO!
I faced a fear the other day and read, or listened to the audio novel of, The Exorcist. Believe it or not, it was actually a good book. Scary, but good. It didn't terrify me like the movie did, but I still got the heebs. Ed walked up behind me while I was listening to it and scared me. Luckily I had already put down the Exacto knife, or he would have needed a priest.
Steve and I went for a walk last Friday night and I realized something. I've realized that I will leave Steve behind if I feel we are in danger. I don't have to run fast, I just have to run faster than Steve! : ) We were at the elementary school where he had gone as a kid and he wanted to see if an old tree was still there. The original school was destroyed in the tornado of 89, so I suppose that's why he wanted to stop. It was dark, I wasn't wearing my hated glasses, and as we walked up to the tree, I saw a man crouching in the shadows. So I did what anyone would do, I pushed my husband out in front of me and ran. Boy, was my face red when I was told that the weird man in the shadows was actually a tall stump. Ha ha...ha...um.
Well, that's all for now. It seems like there was something else I was going to say, but I can't remember it!
Thursday, April 05, 2007
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) Just a bit of advice: Try not to wear a wrap dress on a windy day. I learned this the hard way, and so did that nice family from Michigan. Sorry, you guys!
2) Apparently my adolescence-long fixation with 4-inch high heeled shoes did not give me an eternity of balance. I wore low heels today and I walked like a new born moose. Had I knobby knees, the picture would have been perfect. Thank goodness I haven’t fallen yet! I used to be able to run in heels. Oy, getting old sucks.
3) I only have 6 more classes to go! Six! Six! Woo-Hoo! *Does the proverbial dance of joy*
4) I was supposed to do a class presentation today and got all set to present, but the teacher kept us busy reading Othello all class period. I had psyched myself up all day for this, and now he expects me to do it next Thursday! Woe to he who diverges my creative flow! WOE!
5) I was feeling snacky when I got back from school today, so I stopped by the break room to grab some chips. Our employee break room has the single oldest vending machine on earth in it, and it never fails that at least 3 out of 5 things will get stuck on the spiral thingie before it falls. Today it was my turn. Apparently the chips didn’t get stuck so much as they hovered in mid air in front of the spiral thingie, so I rose up righteous and beat the machine within an inch of it’s miserable life. I got my chips, though! That machine BETTA RECOGNISE!
6) I have 100 cranes! Only 900 more to go!
1) Just a bit of advice: Try not to wear a wrap dress on a windy day. I learned this the hard way, and so did that nice family from Michigan. Sorry, you guys!
2) Apparently my adolescence-long fixation with 4-inch high heeled shoes did not give me an eternity of balance. I wore low heels today and I walked like a new born moose. Had I knobby knees, the picture would have been perfect. Thank goodness I haven’t fallen yet! I used to be able to run in heels. Oy, getting old sucks.
3) I only have 6 more classes to go! Six! Six! Woo-Hoo! *Does the proverbial dance of joy*
4) I was supposed to do a class presentation today and got all set to present, but the teacher kept us busy reading Othello all class period. I had psyched myself up all day for this, and now he expects me to do it next Thursday! Woe to he who diverges my creative flow! WOE!
5) I was feeling snacky when I got back from school today, so I stopped by the break room to grab some chips. Our employee break room has the single oldest vending machine on earth in it, and it never fails that at least 3 out of 5 things will get stuck on the spiral thingie before it falls. Today it was my turn. Apparently the chips didn’t get stuck so much as they hovered in mid air in front of the spiral thingie, so I rose up righteous and beat the machine within an inch of it’s miserable life. I got my chips, though! That machine BETTA RECOGNISE!
6) I have 100 cranes! Only 900 more to go!
Monday, April 02, 2007
WEEKEND UPDATE!
Oh yes, it’s that time again.
FRIDAY: After work, things seemed to get fairly busy for Steve and I. We went to our tanning place (Shut up, I’m pale) and then we had to go to Sam’s and buy drinks. We tend to buy them all at once and then drink them all before we restock, so I’m pretty sure we must look slightly nuts every time we go in there. Slightly thirsty nuts. At any rate, we finished up with the shopping and on the way home I got a horrible stomachache. I don’t know what caused it, but I literally thought I was going to have to go to the hospital. Luckily, it went away just as suddenly as it came. Weird. Anyway, we were supposed to go to dinner with Josh, but he called about the time I thought I was dying, so we cancelled on him. Sorry, Josh! We spent the rest of the evening goofing off.
SATURDAY: I had planned to come into work and catch up on some of the work I had missed while I was n Miami. I have this one rather huge project (not huge in size, but huge because it’s complicated) that has been keeping me busy for several days and I figured that I’d be able to finish that up and then do some of the other things on my list. Unfortunately, I am an idiot. I brought my airbrush and compressor so that I could paint this sign faster with less drying time. I got everything set up except for attaching the airbrush nozzle, which took me a while, and when I opened the case for the nozzle, I realized that the hose wasn’t in there. I just sat there and stared at the thing for a few minutes and felt stupid. So I ended up having to paint the old school way, which took the entire time I was there. I also had to redo some of the vinyl and then remove other parts I had already applied. It sucked. After I got as far as I could go, I went home and got ready to go to dinner at Sazio’s, which is a very wonderful Italian place in Five Points. We rode with Greg and Shannon, and met Josh and Anthony there. We had a great time, but I think we were a little loud. We didn’t mean to be, though. The only dark spot of the day was the service was BAD. I don’t know if the servers were new or what, but even though we were a party of 6, they kept forgetting about our table. That had never happened there before. We spent the rest of the evening with Shannon and Greg at our house talking and playing with the dogs. Butler LOVES Greg.
SUNDAY: Church and lunch with the parents. I embarrassed myself first thing that morning because I was talking to our associate pastor down in the office and accidentally called him “Babe.” I didn’t mean to, but he had started looking around for something and I said “What do you need, babe?” like I do to Steve. We both turned red and I just walked out. Oy vey.
I had also taken my cap and gown over to my parent’s house so that I could have a picture made to put in my graduation announcements. Now, I don’t know if I am completely deluded, or if the camera hates me, but those pictures turned out horribly. I don’t remember looking in the mirror and seeing the person who I saw in those pictures. It was embarrassing! It’s no wonder Steve doesn’t like to take pictures of me…yikes. I think I’ll just stick to pictures of my feet.
I stayed home from church that evening to do some research for one of my papers. I’m beginning to run out of time, so now I’ve got to focus. I have two research papers and one class presentation to prepare for. Yuck. After I got as far as I could go on the research, Steve and I watched an episode of “The Weakest Link” from BBC which had characters from “Dr. Who” on it, and then the first episode of the new season of Dr. Who. David Tennant is so adorable, and Scottish, so his accent makes him twice as cute. : )
Oh yes, it’s that time again.
FRIDAY: After work, things seemed to get fairly busy for Steve and I. We went to our tanning place (Shut up, I’m pale) and then we had to go to Sam’s and buy drinks. We tend to buy them all at once and then drink them all before we restock, so I’m pretty sure we must look slightly nuts every time we go in there. Slightly thirsty nuts. At any rate, we finished up with the shopping and on the way home I got a horrible stomachache. I don’t know what caused it, but I literally thought I was going to have to go to the hospital. Luckily, it went away just as suddenly as it came. Weird. Anyway, we were supposed to go to dinner with Josh, but he called about the time I thought I was dying, so we cancelled on him. Sorry, Josh! We spent the rest of the evening goofing off.
SATURDAY: I had planned to come into work and catch up on some of the work I had missed while I was n Miami. I have this one rather huge project (not huge in size, but huge because it’s complicated) that has been keeping me busy for several days and I figured that I’d be able to finish that up and then do some of the other things on my list. Unfortunately, I am an idiot. I brought my airbrush and compressor so that I could paint this sign faster with less drying time. I got everything set up except for attaching the airbrush nozzle, which took me a while, and when I opened the case for the nozzle, I realized that the hose wasn’t in there. I just sat there and stared at the thing for a few minutes and felt stupid. So I ended up having to paint the old school way, which took the entire time I was there. I also had to redo some of the vinyl and then remove other parts I had already applied. It sucked. After I got as far as I could go, I went home and got ready to go to dinner at Sazio’s, which is a very wonderful Italian place in Five Points. We rode with Greg and Shannon, and met Josh and Anthony there. We had a great time, but I think we were a little loud. We didn’t mean to be, though. The only dark spot of the day was the service was BAD. I don’t know if the servers were new or what, but even though we were a party of 6, they kept forgetting about our table. That had never happened there before. We spent the rest of the evening with Shannon and Greg at our house talking and playing with the dogs. Butler LOVES Greg.
SUNDAY: Church and lunch with the parents. I embarrassed myself first thing that morning because I was talking to our associate pastor down in the office and accidentally called him “Babe.” I didn’t mean to, but he had started looking around for something and I said “What do you need, babe?” like I do to Steve. We both turned red and I just walked out. Oy vey.
I had also taken my cap and gown over to my parent’s house so that I could have a picture made to put in my graduation announcements. Now, I don’t know if I am completely deluded, or if the camera hates me, but those pictures turned out horribly. I don’t remember looking in the mirror and seeing the person who I saw in those pictures. It was embarrassing! It’s no wonder Steve doesn’t like to take pictures of me…yikes. I think I’ll just stick to pictures of my feet.
I stayed home from church that evening to do some research for one of my papers. I’m beginning to run out of time, so now I’ve got to focus. I have two research papers and one class presentation to prepare for. Yuck. After I got as far as I could go on the research, Steve and I watched an episode of “The Weakest Link” from BBC which had characters from “Dr. Who” on it, and then the first episode of the new season of Dr. Who. David Tennant is so adorable, and Scottish, so his accent makes him twice as cute. : )
Friday, March 30, 2007
Another Me-Me Quiz!
All My Exes...
1. Your name?
Kelly
2. Would you kiss your Ex one last time if you had a chance to?!
Some of them, sure. I dated a lot of good kissers!
3. How many boyfriends have told you they loved you?
3
4. Have you ever thought that you were going to marry that person?
Twice, but only seriously once.
5. Are you crushing on someone?
What kind of question is that for a married woman? *whistles and looks away*
6. Have you ever liked someone so much that it hurt?
Yes
7. Have you ever made a boyfriend or girlfriend cry?
I don't think so. It'd be pretty funny if I did, though.
8. Are you happier single or in a relationship?
I always try to be happy either way, but it is nicer to have someone to snuggle with.
9. Have you ever told someone you loved them and didn't mean it?
Only once, and I'm still rather ashamed.
10. Have you ever had your heart broken?
Oh, yeah.
11. Have you ever broken someone's heart?
I don't think any of my exes were attached enough to be heartbroken over me.
12. Think any of your ex's feel the same?
Who knows? I doubt they think of me much.
13. Do you believe that you are a good girlfriend?
I can be, but I can also be an unholy terror.
14. Have you dated people who were not good to you?
Yes. A borderline pedophile, an emotionally abusive jerk, an unbalanced psychopath and a liar. Not necessarily in that order. Bastards.
15. Have you been in an abusive relationship?
Sort of. I punched Jason Harris in the head. . . twice. Does it count if it were me who was abusive and if they really deserved it?
16. Have you dated someone older than you?
I've always dated older guys.
17. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
Maybe not everyone, but it's OK sometimes.
18. Do you Believe in love at first sight?:
Yes.
19. Do you want to get married?
I don't know. It's an awful big commitment.
20. Do you believe in ex's being best friends?
Yes! I'm very close to some of my exes.
21. Does heart break really feel as bad as its said to be?
Worse.
23. Would you date one of your best male friends?
If I were single, or at least really sneaky, yes.
24. Have any of your ex's called you by a nickname after the breakup?
Jason still calls me "Sweetie Darlin' Head" when we see each other. I'm sure some of them still refer to me as "Bitch."
25. Do you regret any of your relationships?
Don't we all?
26. Who is an ex you think about most often?
I think about all of them from time to time, but probably Kenny, Jason and Tadd the most.
All My Exes...
1. Your name?
Kelly
2. Would you kiss your Ex one last time if you had a chance to?!
Some of them, sure. I dated a lot of good kissers!
3. How many boyfriends have told you they loved you?
3
4. Have you ever thought that you were going to marry that person?
Twice, but only seriously once.
5. Are you crushing on someone?
What kind of question is that for a married woman? *whistles and looks away*
6. Have you ever liked someone so much that it hurt?
Yes
7. Have you ever made a boyfriend or girlfriend cry?
I don't think so. It'd be pretty funny if I did, though.
8. Are you happier single or in a relationship?
I always try to be happy either way, but it is nicer to have someone to snuggle with.
9. Have you ever told someone you loved them and didn't mean it?
Only once, and I'm still rather ashamed.
10. Have you ever had your heart broken?
Oh, yeah.
11. Have you ever broken someone's heart?
I don't think any of my exes were attached enough to be heartbroken over me.
12. Think any of your ex's feel the same?
Who knows? I doubt they think of me much.
13. Do you believe that you are a good girlfriend?
I can be, but I can also be an unholy terror.
14. Have you dated people who were not good to you?
Yes. A borderline pedophile, an emotionally abusive jerk, an unbalanced psychopath and a liar. Not necessarily in that order. Bastards.
15. Have you been in an abusive relationship?
Sort of. I punched Jason Harris in the head. . . twice. Does it count if it were me who was abusive and if they really deserved it?
16. Have you dated someone older than you?
I've always dated older guys.
17. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
Maybe not everyone, but it's OK sometimes.
18. Do you Believe in love at first sight?:
Yes.
19. Do you want to get married?
I don't know. It's an awful big commitment.
20. Do you believe in ex's being best friends?
Yes! I'm very close to some of my exes.
21. Does heart break really feel as bad as its said to be?
Worse.
23. Would you date one of your best male friends?
If I were single, or at least really sneaky, yes.
24. Have any of your ex's called you by a nickname after the breakup?
Jason still calls me "Sweetie Darlin' Head" when we see each other. I'm sure some of them still refer to me as "Bitch."
25. Do you regret any of your relationships?
Don't we all?
26. Who is an ex you think about most often?
I think about all of them from time to time, but probably Kenny, Jason and Tadd the most.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) For those of you who are interested, I did get my bag back. It got back to me last Saturday night at 7:45. I'm so glad it wasn't lost for good, although I was looking forward to sticking it to U.S. Airlines and getting some money from them. I think what happened was that it was searched and then misplaced. When I opened it, there was a card in there that said they had opened my bag. I wonder if it had the same chemical on it as my shoes.
2) I've got another month before my finals. One more month. One loooooooooong last month.
3) Sara is out of the hospital for now, according to her dad. However, she is sick with a cold. BOO GERMS! I have fully taken advantage of the chocolate while she's been out, but I will stop again if she goes back in. Let's all hope she doesn't go back in!
4) I've started going to a tanning bed again. I know, I know...I said I'd never do that again. However, last Sunday I wore a pair of cropped pants and my legs practically glowed in the dark. Steve put his hand next to my ankle and I swear, compared to me he looked Middle Eastern, and he's not exactly that tanned. So now I'm slightly burnt and my back itches like crazy. I do have one problem, though. I have a perfect line in the middle of my torso that will not tan. It also isn't burned. It's weird. I look like a chimera! Oh well, I suppose that just means no bikini for me this summer. (and the world breathes a sigh of relief.)
5) I've only made 67 cranes, so I need to get busy. Oy.
1) For those of you who are interested, I did get my bag back. It got back to me last Saturday night at 7:45. I'm so glad it wasn't lost for good, although I was looking forward to sticking it to U.S. Airlines and getting some money from them. I think what happened was that it was searched and then misplaced. When I opened it, there was a card in there that said they had opened my bag. I wonder if it had the same chemical on it as my shoes.
2) I've got another month before my finals. One more month. One loooooooooong last month.
3) Sara is out of the hospital for now, according to her dad. However, she is sick with a cold. BOO GERMS! I have fully taken advantage of the chocolate while she's been out, but I will stop again if she goes back in. Let's all hope she doesn't go back in!
4) I've started going to a tanning bed again. I know, I know...I said I'd never do that again. However, last Sunday I wore a pair of cropped pants and my legs practically glowed in the dark. Steve put his hand next to my ankle and I swear, compared to me he looked Middle Eastern, and he's not exactly that tanned. So now I'm slightly burnt and my back itches like crazy. I do have one problem, though. I have a perfect line in the middle of my torso that will not tan. It also isn't burned. It's weird. I look like a chimera! Oh well, I suppose that just means no bikini for me this summer. (and the world breathes a sigh of relief.)
5) I've only made 67 cranes, so I need to get busy. Oy.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Why do most of my embarrassing moments include me being partially nude in a public place?
Yesterday as I was leaving school, I realized I needed to run by Wal-Mart to buy some paint to finish up a sign I had been working on. As I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that I felt a breeze. I looked down and my shirt was unbuttoned almost to my belly-button! EEEEK!
I fixed my shirt and decided right then and there that I would be buying a tank top to wear underneath my shirt for the rest of the day! I got the tank top and returned to work, and as I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that my shirt was unbuttoned again! Once again I buttoned it and hurried in to put on the tank top. Before I made it to the door, the shirt was open again! What the? I had to run into the nearest restroom and put on the tank top before I ended up embarrassing myself. I couldn't figure out why I was having this problem, because I had worn it before and didn't flash anyone!
I found out by accident what was causing it. I have a new purse that has a long strap and I was wearing it across my chest to keep my hands free. Apparently, every time I reached into it for something, it was pushing the buttons through the button holes.
*dies*
Yesterday as I was leaving school, I realized I needed to run by Wal-Mart to buy some paint to finish up a sign I had been working on. As I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that I felt a breeze. I looked down and my shirt was unbuttoned almost to my belly-button! EEEEK!
I fixed my shirt and decided right then and there that I would be buying a tank top to wear underneath my shirt for the rest of the day! I got the tank top and returned to work, and as I was walking through the parking lot, I realized that my shirt was unbuttoned again! Once again I buttoned it and hurried in to put on the tank top. Before I made it to the door, the shirt was open again! What the? I had to run into the nearest restroom and put on the tank top before I ended up embarrassing myself. I couldn't figure out why I was having this problem, because I had worn it before and didn't flash anyone!
I found out by accident what was causing it. I have a new purse that has a long strap and I was wearing it across my chest to keep my hands free. Apparently, every time I reached into it for something, it was pushing the buttons through the button holes.
*dies*
CONCLUSION
After all of the mess it took for me to get there, the actual visit was great! I mean, of course Sara was sick most of the time I was there, which sucked, but I enjoyed my visit. I told her that I knew I was ugly, but she didn’t have to throw up every time she saw me. : ) Hmmmm, now that I think of it, she didn’t disagree with me. Evil heifer!
Monday I spent the day with her watching TV, except when her mom took me to Target to buy some clothes. I was literally wearing my pajamas because that was the only other clothes I had since my bag went AWOL. We rode across town on the elevated train and after Target we went to the mall, which the Target cashier swore was close (but she lied), and Gail and I hauled our giant shopping bags through a very posh shopping place. We were hot and thirsty by the time we made it to the restaurant we were looking for. It was an Italian place with very wonderful food. After that we stopped by The Cheesecake Factory and got some goodies to take back to Sara and went back to the Transplant House. I wanted to take a shower and change into some of the clothes I had bought so that I wouldn’t still be in my pajamas, and I met Gail and Sara in the hospital room. Sara introduced me to the wonderful world of “Housewives of Orange County” and “The Hills” as well as some weird show about a guy who travels all over the world and eats disgusting food. We had to turn that last one off because even though Sara is the one who is constantly nauseated, I am the one who almost threw up. The man ate ants and testicles, for the love of Pete! While at Target, I went to the dollar section and got all three of us some of those headbands with the ears on them that little kids wear at Easter. I picked out lamb ears and Sara and I wore ours while we sat and watched TV. Sara forgot she had hers on, so when the docs and nurses came in and out, we got some strange looks. I could have reminded her she was wearing a wooly headband with ears on it, but I didn’t. I got a kick out of the looks. The funny thing was, no one ever mentioned them. They came in, asked how she was, and looked from her to me, me to her, and then they would leave. I found out the next day she had so completely forgotten she was wearing them that she slept in them! Heeheehee.
Tuesday was about the same, but Sara felt much more sick. I felt bad that I couldn’t do anything to help, but there was really nothing that could be done on my part without cracking her on the back of the head to knock her unconscious. I didn’t think she’d appreciate that anyways. In the middle of the afternoon I got a blinding headache, one of those that make me sick to my stomach, and I had to go back to the transplant house and lie down before Sara and I started doing Dueling Barf-o’s. Luckily I caught it before it got that far and slept for a couple of hours. When I went back, Sara had been to get scanned and once she came back, all three of us spent the next few hours talking and I got to tell Gail about the silly things Sara had done in High School. We talked until pretty late, and as far as I could tell, we all had a good time.
Wednesday when we went back to the hospital, Sara had been sick in the night and still felt fairly terrible. My ride called to say they were in the neighborhood already, and since I knew Sara was exhausted and probably completely tired of me by then, I said my goodbyes and went back to the airport. I checked about my bags again (still no dice) and then began my trip home. Everything went well from there on, the only bad thing being that the lady next to me dropped her carry on bag on my head while trying to get her cell phone out, but even that wasn’t a big deal.
I made it home by about 9:45 that night, Huntsville time, and couldn’t wait to get a big hug from Steve when he met me at the baggage claim.
Once again, the joke was on me.
My plane landed early, my husband was late. I can’t really blame him for thinking that I’d be later than planned after everything the airline had put me through. I was kind of pitiful sitting in the empty baggage claim area waiting for him, though. He finally got there, but I didn’t get a hug. I swear, one of these days I am going to have someone be excited to see me after I get off of a plane! It doesn’t even have to be Steve anymore! I give up!
He just took me home and after I had eaten dinner, I slept like the dead.
My journey had ended.
After all of the mess it took for me to get there, the actual visit was great! I mean, of course Sara was sick most of the time I was there, which sucked, but I enjoyed my visit. I told her that I knew I was ugly, but she didn’t have to throw up every time she saw me. : ) Hmmmm, now that I think of it, she didn’t disagree with me. Evil heifer!
Monday I spent the day with her watching TV, except when her mom took me to Target to buy some clothes. I was literally wearing my pajamas because that was the only other clothes I had since my bag went AWOL. We rode across town on the elevated train and after Target we went to the mall, which the Target cashier swore was close (but she lied), and Gail and I hauled our giant shopping bags through a very posh shopping place. We were hot and thirsty by the time we made it to the restaurant we were looking for. It was an Italian place with very wonderful food. After that we stopped by The Cheesecake Factory and got some goodies to take back to Sara and went back to the Transplant House. I wanted to take a shower and change into some of the clothes I had bought so that I wouldn’t still be in my pajamas, and I met Gail and Sara in the hospital room. Sara introduced me to the wonderful world of “Housewives of Orange County” and “The Hills” as well as some weird show about a guy who travels all over the world and eats disgusting food. We had to turn that last one off because even though Sara is the one who is constantly nauseated, I am the one who almost threw up. The man ate ants and testicles, for the love of Pete! While at Target, I went to the dollar section and got all three of us some of those headbands with the ears on them that little kids wear at Easter. I picked out lamb ears and Sara and I wore ours while we sat and watched TV. Sara forgot she had hers on, so when the docs and nurses came in and out, we got some strange looks. I could have reminded her she was wearing a wooly headband with ears on it, but I didn’t. I got a kick out of the looks. The funny thing was, no one ever mentioned them. They came in, asked how she was, and looked from her to me, me to her, and then they would leave. I found out the next day she had so completely forgotten she was wearing them that she slept in them! Heeheehee.
Tuesday was about the same, but Sara felt much more sick. I felt bad that I couldn’t do anything to help, but there was really nothing that could be done on my part without cracking her on the back of the head to knock her unconscious. I didn’t think she’d appreciate that anyways. In the middle of the afternoon I got a blinding headache, one of those that make me sick to my stomach, and I had to go back to the transplant house and lie down before Sara and I started doing Dueling Barf-o’s. Luckily I caught it before it got that far and slept for a couple of hours. When I went back, Sara had been to get scanned and once she came back, all three of us spent the next few hours talking and I got to tell Gail about the silly things Sara had done in High School. We talked until pretty late, and as far as I could tell, we all had a good time.
Wednesday when we went back to the hospital, Sara had been sick in the night and still felt fairly terrible. My ride called to say they were in the neighborhood already, and since I knew Sara was exhausted and probably completely tired of me by then, I said my goodbyes and went back to the airport. I checked about my bags again (still no dice) and then began my trip home. Everything went well from there on, the only bad thing being that the lady next to me dropped her carry on bag on my head while trying to get her cell phone out, but even that wasn’t a big deal.
I made it home by about 9:45 that night, Huntsville time, and couldn’t wait to get a big hug from Steve when he met me at the baggage claim.
Once again, the joke was on me.
My plane landed early, my husband was late. I can’t really blame him for thinking that I’d be later than planned after everything the airline had put me through. I was kind of pitiful sitting in the empty baggage claim area waiting for him, though. He finally got there, but I didn’t get a hug. I swear, one of these days I am going to have someone be excited to see me after I get off of a plane! It doesn’t even have to be Steve anymore! I give up!
He just took me home and after I had eaten dinner, I slept like the dead.
My journey had ended.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
SUNDAY MARCH 18/ CHARLOTTE & FT. LAUDERDALE AIRPORT
You know, traveling alone isn’t so bad. I mean, I don’t think I would want to go on all my vacations alone, but there is something to be said about not having to worry about anyone else while you explore to your heart’s content. No offense to anyone I’ve ever traveled with, but I like to look at stuff and some of you don’t, so it was nice to be on my own this time, problems or not…well, most of the time.
When the idea was first broached that I fly to Florida sans companion, I was terrified. Literally, I grew up so sheltered and protected that the first time I ever drove to Birmingham alone, I was 22 and my mom STILL had kittens about it. She had me convinced that I was going to be murdered and buried in a shallow grave before I could get home. Trust me, I love my mom, but the woman has pretty much stayed in a 20 mile radius of where she grew up, so I think the idea of me being outside of that comfort zone scares her silly.
But I digress.
I had a few weeks to acclimatize myself to the idea of flying to strange places alone, and I had gotten used to the idea in a “Country Mouse Visits the City” kind of way. When the whole debacle happened and I was stuck in Charlotte, I had a feeling that I was going to have a brief, but powerful, panic attack that would probably end up with me chasing a plane down the runway, begging it to let me onboard so I could go home. However, I had hit “Kill Me” mode, and I realized that if I was going to snap out of the country mouse state of mind, I was going to have to be an adult. Also, I was too tired to muster up the strength to have a meltdown.
As I lay in the floor of the airport, which was all I could do at the time, I tried to keep busy. I was lucky that I had my iPod and my busy box. As I’ve said many times, I don’t have idle hands, so I had brought a box in my carry on that contained tools for embroidery, crochet, and drawing. In the stretch of 7 hours I spent on that floor, I went through them all. I also just lay there and tried not to go to sleep. That was the worst part, being so tired and not feeling comfortable going to sleep. I felt that way partly because I was alone and didn’t want anyone to steal my purse while I was sleeping and partly because I waved at some random guy without thinking (Shut up, I’m friendly) and he kept walking by and staring at me. I didn’t want to wake up later and find that guy spooning me. It was an uphill battle, but I only dozed and jerked awake, never fell fully asleep. As I was lying against a concrete wall that seemed to be sucking the cold out of the air outside, I was freezing. I already had on my jacket, and unless I wanted to try and crochet myself a blanket, I was boned. Well, I thought I was. I had been eyeing this jacket that was on one of the chairs not far away from myself since I sat down. Since I watched it for at least two hours and no one came and got it, I stitched it and covered up my legs with it. I can’t believe I did that, because who knows where that thing had been! I was desperate.
As morning rose and the other passengers started trickling in, I saw some of them with coffee. Ah, coffee, sweet caffeine. I finally got up to stretch my cramped body and try to find the source of the coffee. I found it in one of the central food courts at a Starbucks that had opened. It was blissful. Armed with all of my baggage, a scone and a macchiato, I went back to my coveted corner and indulged in my breakfast. At this point, a lot of other people began to show up for the flight. I was terribly afraid that I would not get on the flight for a while. Some of the complainers of the night before came back and I swear, a good night’s sleep hadn’t helped any of them. There was one specific lady who was really irritating. She was saying nasty things about the situation and laughing like she was only kidding, but no one bought it. She wouldn’t shut up! We finally got ready to board and they let me on! Woo-HOO!
The flight was unremarkable in the sense that nothing bad happened. I made it to Ft. Lauderdale and called Steve to let him know I was there and on my way to get my luggage. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The joke was on me.
Apparently, the airline had lost my bag. LOST MY BAG!!!!!!! It was nowhere to be found. Oh, and I looked. The baggage claim area was packed with suitcases that had made it to this destination before their owners. Yet in this mélange of bags, mine was not there. I arrived at 9:45 am, and I looked until about 12:00 noon. I was thisclose to really losing my cool at this point. After all I had been through, I had finally reached my limit. One lady I didn’t know saw me on the verge of a freak out and helped me look, but to no avail. The kindness of that stranger calmed me enough to go over to the baggage claim office and file a report. Probably the only other reason I didn’t completely lose my composure was that the poor guy behind the counter looked chewed up and spit out, so I had pity on him. I had to leave that airport without my clothes, without my toothpaste and almost without my dignity. I finally just gave up my search and went outside to catch the shuttle service to Miami. It wasn’t a van as I had thought, but a very plush town car. I was stuffed in between two other ladies and we set off. The driver dropped off both of the other passengers and then we set off to the medical district. He spent the whole drive over there complaining that black people never tipped him. The dude was Cuban, so it struck me as funny that a man who was probably in our country illegally had the nerve to be racist. He did tell me a funny story about a professional basketball player he had once taken to a palatial estate in Miami. He said the man was a well-dressed black man who was extremely rude to him and snapped at him when the driver tried to be nice to him. When he, and his expensive luggage, were dropped off at this huge house, the passenger stiffed him on the tip. When he got back to his station, the driver told his co-workers about what had happened, and so they looked to see who his passenger was and they all said he was notorious for not tipping and being rude. As he put it, they all call the basketball player “Scotty Pippin-No Tippin’.”
Mr. Cuban car driver wasn’t familiar with the medical area so it took us a few minutes to find the address that Sara’s mom had given me. He dropped me and my luggage off, and I walked inside. I walked inside and found out that I was in the wrong hospital. Oy Vey.
So I set off to find the right hospital and walked the streets of Miami for a good 1/2 an hour before I found the right one. It was only later that I found out that I was only a five minute walk away from where I was supposed to be. I finally found Gail, Sara’s mom, and she took me upstairs to see Sara. Since Sara had no clue I was coming, she asked her mom where she had been and Gail told her there was a delivery and she waved me in.
I can honestly say Sara was surprised. She saw me, blinked and said “HOLY (expletive deleted)!” It was totally worth everything that had happened to see her face. We talked and all of us walked over to the Dunkin Donuts to get a iced coffee before Gail and I returned to the Transplant House to sleep. There are few times in my life where I have slept as deeply as I did that night.
I had made it to Miami, I saw my friend, and all was right with the world.
You know, traveling alone isn’t so bad. I mean, I don’t think I would want to go on all my vacations alone, but there is something to be said about not having to worry about anyone else while you explore to your heart’s content. No offense to anyone I’ve ever traveled with, but I like to look at stuff and some of you don’t, so it was nice to be on my own this time, problems or not…well, most of the time.
When the idea was first broached that I fly to Florida sans companion, I was terrified. Literally, I grew up so sheltered and protected that the first time I ever drove to Birmingham alone, I was 22 and my mom STILL had kittens about it. She had me convinced that I was going to be murdered and buried in a shallow grave before I could get home. Trust me, I love my mom, but the woman has pretty much stayed in a 20 mile radius of where she grew up, so I think the idea of me being outside of that comfort zone scares her silly.
But I digress.
I had a few weeks to acclimatize myself to the idea of flying to strange places alone, and I had gotten used to the idea in a “Country Mouse Visits the City” kind of way. When the whole debacle happened and I was stuck in Charlotte, I had a feeling that I was going to have a brief, but powerful, panic attack that would probably end up with me chasing a plane down the runway, begging it to let me onboard so I could go home. However, I had hit “Kill Me” mode, and I realized that if I was going to snap out of the country mouse state of mind, I was going to have to be an adult. Also, I was too tired to muster up the strength to have a meltdown.
As I lay in the floor of the airport, which was all I could do at the time, I tried to keep busy. I was lucky that I had my iPod and my busy box. As I’ve said many times, I don’t have idle hands, so I had brought a box in my carry on that contained tools for embroidery, crochet, and drawing. In the stretch of 7 hours I spent on that floor, I went through them all. I also just lay there and tried not to go to sleep. That was the worst part, being so tired and not feeling comfortable going to sleep. I felt that way partly because I was alone and didn’t want anyone to steal my purse while I was sleeping and partly because I waved at some random guy without thinking (Shut up, I’m friendly) and he kept walking by and staring at me. I didn’t want to wake up later and find that guy spooning me. It was an uphill battle, but I only dozed and jerked awake, never fell fully asleep. As I was lying against a concrete wall that seemed to be sucking the cold out of the air outside, I was freezing. I already had on my jacket, and unless I wanted to try and crochet myself a blanket, I was boned. Well, I thought I was. I had been eyeing this jacket that was on one of the chairs not far away from myself since I sat down. Since I watched it for at least two hours and no one came and got it, I stitched it and covered up my legs with it. I can’t believe I did that, because who knows where that thing had been! I was desperate.
As morning rose and the other passengers started trickling in, I saw some of them with coffee. Ah, coffee, sweet caffeine. I finally got up to stretch my cramped body and try to find the source of the coffee. I found it in one of the central food courts at a Starbucks that had opened. It was blissful. Armed with all of my baggage, a scone and a macchiato, I went back to my coveted corner and indulged in my breakfast. At this point, a lot of other people began to show up for the flight. I was terribly afraid that I would not get on the flight for a while. Some of the complainers of the night before came back and I swear, a good night’s sleep hadn’t helped any of them. There was one specific lady who was really irritating. She was saying nasty things about the situation and laughing like she was only kidding, but no one bought it. She wouldn’t shut up! We finally got ready to board and they let me on! Woo-HOO!
The flight was unremarkable in the sense that nothing bad happened. I made it to Ft. Lauderdale and called Steve to let him know I was there and on my way to get my luggage. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The joke was on me.
Apparently, the airline had lost my bag. LOST MY BAG!!!!!!! It was nowhere to be found. Oh, and I looked. The baggage claim area was packed with suitcases that had made it to this destination before their owners. Yet in this mélange of bags, mine was not there. I arrived at 9:45 am, and I looked until about 12:00 noon. I was thisclose to really losing my cool at this point. After all I had been through, I had finally reached my limit. One lady I didn’t know saw me on the verge of a freak out and helped me look, but to no avail. The kindness of that stranger calmed me enough to go over to the baggage claim office and file a report. Probably the only other reason I didn’t completely lose my composure was that the poor guy behind the counter looked chewed up and spit out, so I had pity on him. I had to leave that airport without my clothes, without my toothpaste and almost without my dignity. I finally just gave up my search and went outside to catch the shuttle service to Miami. It wasn’t a van as I had thought, but a very plush town car. I was stuffed in between two other ladies and we set off. The driver dropped off both of the other passengers and then we set off to the medical district. He spent the whole drive over there complaining that black people never tipped him. The dude was Cuban, so it struck me as funny that a man who was probably in our country illegally had the nerve to be racist. He did tell me a funny story about a professional basketball player he had once taken to a palatial estate in Miami. He said the man was a well-dressed black man who was extremely rude to him and snapped at him when the driver tried to be nice to him. When he, and his expensive luggage, were dropped off at this huge house, the passenger stiffed him on the tip. When he got back to his station, the driver told his co-workers about what had happened, and so they looked to see who his passenger was and they all said he was notorious for not tipping and being rude. As he put it, they all call the basketball player “Scotty Pippin-No Tippin’.”
Mr. Cuban car driver wasn’t familiar with the medical area so it took us a few minutes to find the address that Sara’s mom had given me. He dropped me and my luggage off, and I walked inside. I walked inside and found out that I was in the wrong hospital. Oy Vey.
So I set off to find the right hospital and walked the streets of Miami for a good 1/2 an hour before I found the right one. It was only later that I found out that I was only a five minute walk away from where I was supposed to be. I finally found Gail, Sara’s mom, and she took me upstairs to see Sara. Since Sara had no clue I was coming, she asked her mom where she had been and Gail told her there was a delivery and she waved me in.
I can honestly say Sara was surprised. She saw me, blinked and said “HOLY (expletive deleted)!” It was totally worth everything that had happened to see her face. We talked and all of us walked over to the Dunkin Donuts to get a iced coffee before Gail and I returned to the Transplant House to sleep. There are few times in my life where I have slept as deeply as I did that night.
I had made it to Miami, I saw my friend, and all was right with the world.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
SATURDAY March 17th: Huntsville and Charlotte Airports.
Before I begin, I would just like to say, U.S. Airlines sucks.
I wish that I could write "U.S. Airlines Sucks" in every known language so that anyone around the world who looked up that airline would find this page and read about my adventure so they could run screaming in the other direction.
The most accepted definition of Murphy's Law is "If it can go wrong, it will go wrong." Kudos to this Murphy guy for hitting that nail on the head.
It was obvious early on that something was going to go wrong. I should have realized that my traveling experience wasn't going to go well when they all but gave me a cavity search at the security gate. You think I'm kidding, don't you?
Steve dropped me off in the line into the security area. We said our goodbyes and I proceeded to remove the 1 quart plastic bag with the few toiletries that I packed in my carry on (none over 3 ounces, of course) from my bag, remove my shoes, remove my jacket and placed everything into the plastic bin so that it could be x-rayed. As I walked through the metal detector, I set it off. The security lady made me take off both my belt and my watch, which enabled me to get through the detector without setting it off again. As I got to the end of the conveyor belt though, I realized that none of my stuff had come through yet. So there I was, standing there holding my pants up, shoeless, and feeling slightly vulnerable. I stood there thinking that they would pass my things over to me, but no. They had taken my things to a separate table and pulled out the little sniffer wand thing and proceeded to wave it over my shoes. The security guard asked what I did for a living, and I thought that she was asking as a bit of small talk, so I told her I was a graphic artist. Apparently that wasn't the right kind of answer because she then turned to me and said "So you wouldn't work with chemicals or anything, right?"
Oh, Crap.
I told her that I did occasionally use cleaners and stuff and I asked her what she found on my shoes. She named some complicated chemical that I had never heard of and then told me she was then going to search my bag. She searched through it and apparently didn't find anything dangerous. By this point, my watch, belt and shoes had been returned and I was in the process of redressing when she asked me to come there. I stood up, my belt literally half on and hanging out of my belt loops, and she said "Spread 'em." Whahuh? So, I held out my arms and she PATTED ME DOWN. Patted me down, people! I was too confused to object, so I submitted to the patting. Now, either she didn't feel anything concealed on my person, or she figured that anyone who is going to giggle while getting searched can't be all dangerous (shut up, I'm ticklish) because she then smiled and said I could go on. I had literally been inside the gate for 5 minutes and I had already been suspected of building bombs and concealing weapons. Nice. Once I got my things together, though, I went on to my terminal.
My flight was originally supposed to leave at 4:10 pm, but the nice computer lady from Orbitz called me and told me that the flight had been delayed. Was that going to affect my connecting flight? She said no. So I sat in the terminal for what seemed like five days as the flight times kept getting changed and pushed back over and over. It happened often enough to where I had to change my ring tone on my cell phone, because the "Super Mario Brother's" theme song was starting to get embarrassing. I met a nice Mormon woman who was traveling out to Utah to meet her Internet boyfriend for the first time and a spastic diabetic lady who kept reminding us that she was diabetic. Soon, though, I just sat there and listened to my iPod until they FINALLY called us for our flight. It was about 6:45 pm or so before we actually took off, and we arrived in Charlotte, NC at 8:30 EST. Well, I take that back, we actually probably landed at 8:00, but I think we taxied up the runway for another 1/2 hour. Once we got inside, I ran to the monitors that tell you if your flight is on time or not. Apparently, my connecting flight had been postponed as well, so I had three minutes or so to make it to my gate. So I ran.
Now, as you all know, I don't run. You could place Johnny Depp at the far end of the airport sporting a chocolate thong, and all you'd normally get out of me is a swift mosey. However, because I didn't want to cause trouble with my plans, I ran. I ran like OJ Simpson in that old commercial. Might I just add that Charlotte is a freaking large airport. By the time I found my terminal, there was no one there except the lady at the counter. I asked, in between gasping breaths and panting, if I was too late. Well, the plane had just left.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The lady was Russian, or Eastern European, and had an accent I could barely understand, so it took me a couple of minutes to understand what she meant. When I asked her if there was another flight, she said that the computers were down and she couldn't tell me anything. I smiled, while silently plotting her death, and went back to the monitors to find another gate leaving for Ft. Lauderdale.
I finally found one and once again ran across the world to get to it. I finally got there and I stood in a line that rapidly got longer and longer. It was already three people across and deep enough so that I wasn't even in the terminal, but out in the walkway between them. The Zoloft had kicked in, so I wasn't freaking out, but everyone else was. Apparently the planes from Buffalo, NY wouldn't be able to make their original connections, so everyone was routed to Charlotte, NC. I heard more than one person say that the folks in Buffalo had told them that they were sure to get a flight out of Charlotte, but that was not true! I found out later that there were more than 100,000 U.S. Airline passengers across the country that got stranded because of the weather in New England. I was one of them. The line didn't move for three hours. Three. Hours. No, I don't think you understand. THREE. HOURS. The line didn't move an inch.
While standing in this line I met a very nice family from Canada (they really do say "eh") and I also got to hear a lot of people complain. I felt bad for most of them because they were supposed to have been in Ft. Lauderdale to go on cruises and things like that. The people in my line all started saying what they were missing by being stuck in the line. In fact, they really started getting on my nerves. I heard "I'm supposed to be in Florida to catch my ship!" so many times that I finally said "Well, I have a friend who just had a transplant and is very sick. I'm trying to get down there to see her." There was a collective "oooooooh" and everyone shut up for a while. I'm not proud that I had to use Sara's condition to my advantage, but at least it worked.
The line finally started to move and after about 20 minutes, I got to the counter to hear the lady say "I'm sorry, but all of our stand by spots have been taken. We can't fit you on the list." Well, it was either scream and rip out her hair, or deal. I chose to deal. I finally got her to tell me the next flight leaving for Ft. Lauderdale, and that just so happened to be at 7:45 the next morning. Wow. So I walked off to find the terminal where it would leave from and get on the stand by list. Granted, I could have had that lady put me on the list, but I wasn't quite sure I still wouldn't jump across the counter and go nuts on her.
At the new line, I only had to wait for a few minutes while one very irate passenger accused the poor customer service lady of lying to him and then I was placed on the stand by list. At this point, I was exhausted, I felt dirty, and I was hungry. Unfortunately, there were no hotels available and none of the little shops were open anymore. I had no place else to go except over into the corner of the terminal, where I pretty much curled up in the fetal position and lay in the floor shivering. It was about midnight in the rapidly emptying Charlotte airport, and I was alone.
Before I begin, I would just like to say, U.S. Airlines sucks.
I wish that I could write "U.S. Airlines Sucks" in every known language so that anyone around the world who looked up that airline would find this page and read about my adventure so they could run screaming in the other direction.
The most accepted definition of Murphy's Law is "If it can go wrong, it will go wrong." Kudos to this Murphy guy for hitting that nail on the head.
It was obvious early on that something was going to go wrong. I should have realized that my traveling experience wasn't going to go well when they all but gave me a cavity search at the security gate. You think I'm kidding, don't you?
Steve dropped me off in the line into the security area. We said our goodbyes and I proceeded to remove the 1 quart plastic bag with the few toiletries that I packed in my carry on (none over 3 ounces, of course) from my bag, remove my shoes, remove my jacket and placed everything into the plastic bin so that it could be x-rayed. As I walked through the metal detector, I set it off. The security lady made me take off both my belt and my watch, which enabled me to get through the detector without setting it off again. As I got to the end of the conveyor belt though, I realized that none of my stuff had come through yet. So there I was, standing there holding my pants up, shoeless, and feeling slightly vulnerable. I stood there thinking that they would pass my things over to me, but no. They had taken my things to a separate table and pulled out the little sniffer wand thing and proceeded to wave it over my shoes. The security guard asked what I did for a living, and I thought that she was asking as a bit of small talk, so I told her I was a graphic artist. Apparently that wasn't the right kind of answer because she then turned to me and said "So you wouldn't work with chemicals or anything, right?"
Oh, Crap.
I told her that I did occasionally use cleaners and stuff and I asked her what she found on my shoes. She named some complicated chemical that I had never heard of and then told me she was then going to search my bag. She searched through it and apparently didn't find anything dangerous. By this point, my watch, belt and shoes had been returned and I was in the process of redressing when she asked me to come there. I stood up, my belt literally half on and hanging out of my belt loops, and she said "Spread 'em." Whahuh? So, I held out my arms and she PATTED ME DOWN. Patted me down, people! I was too confused to object, so I submitted to the patting. Now, either she didn't feel anything concealed on my person, or she figured that anyone who is going to giggle while getting searched can't be all dangerous (shut up, I'm ticklish) because she then smiled and said I could go on. I had literally been inside the gate for 5 minutes and I had already been suspected of building bombs and concealing weapons. Nice. Once I got my things together, though, I went on to my terminal.
My flight was originally supposed to leave at 4:10 pm, but the nice computer lady from Orbitz called me and told me that the flight had been delayed. Was that going to affect my connecting flight? She said no. So I sat in the terminal for what seemed like five days as the flight times kept getting changed and pushed back over and over. It happened often enough to where I had to change my ring tone on my cell phone, because the "Super Mario Brother's" theme song was starting to get embarrassing. I met a nice Mormon woman who was traveling out to Utah to meet her Internet boyfriend for the first time and a spastic diabetic lady who kept reminding us that she was diabetic. Soon, though, I just sat there and listened to my iPod until they FINALLY called us for our flight. It was about 6:45 pm or so before we actually took off, and we arrived in Charlotte, NC at 8:30 EST. Well, I take that back, we actually probably landed at 8:00, but I think we taxied up the runway for another 1/2 hour. Once we got inside, I ran to the monitors that tell you if your flight is on time or not. Apparently, my connecting flight had been postponed as well, so I had three minutes or so to make it to my gate. So I ran.
Now, as you all know, I don't run. You could place Johnny Depp at the far end of the airport sporting a chocolate thong, and all you'd normally get out of me is a swift mosey. However, because I didn't want to cause trouble with my plans, I ran. I ran like OJ Simpson in that old commercial. Might I just add that Charlotte is a freaking large airport. By the time I found my terminal, there was no one there except the lady at the counter. I asked, in between gasping breaths and panting, if I was too late. Well, the plane had just left.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The lady was Russian, or Eastern European, and had an accent I could barely understand, so it took me a couple of minutes to understand what she meant. When I asked her if there was another flight, she said that the computers were down and she couldn't tell me anything. I smiled, while silently plotting her death, and went back to the monitors to find another gate leaving for Ft. Lauderdale.
I finally found one and once again ran across the world to get to it. I finally got there and I stood in a line that rapidly got longer and longer. It was already three people across and deep enough so that I wasn't even in the terminal, but out in the walkway between them. The Zoloft had kicked in, so I wasn't freaking out, but everyone else was. Apparently the planes from Buffalo, NY wouldn't be able to make their original connections, so everyone was routed to Charlotte, NC. I heard more than one person say that the folks in Buffalo had told them that they were sure to get a flight out of Charlotte, but that was not true! I found out later that there were more than 100,000 U.S. Airline passengers across the country that got stranded because of the weather in New England. I was one of them. The line didn't move for three hours. Three. Hours. No, I don't think you understand. THREE. HOURS. The line didn't move an inch.
While standing in this line I met a very nice family from Canada (they really do say "eh") and I also got to hear a lot of people complain. I felt bad for most of them because they were supposed to have been in Ft. Lauderdale to go on cruises and things like that. The people in my line all started saying what they were missing by being stuck in the line. In fact, they really started getting on my nerves. I heard "I'm supposed to be in Florida to catch my ship!" so many times that I finally said "Well, I have a friend who just had a transplant and is very sick. I'm trying to get down there to see her." There was a collective "oooooooh" and everyone shut up for a while. I'm not proud that I had to use Sara's condition to my advantage, but at least it worked.
The line finally started to move and after about 20 minutes, I got to the counter to hear the lady say "I'm sorry, but all of our stand by spots have been taken. We can't fit you on the list." Well, it was either scream and rip out her hair, or deal. I chose to deal. I finally got her to tell me the next flight leaving for Ft. Lauderdale, and that just so happened to be at 7:45 the next morning. Wow. So I walked off to find the terminal where it would leave from and get on the stand by list. Granted, I could have had that lady put me on the list, but I wasn't quite sure I still wouldn't jump across the counter and go nuts on her.
At the new line, I only had to wait for a few minutes while one very irate passenger accused the poor customer service lady of lying to him and then I was placed on the stand by list. At this point, I was exhausted, I felt dirty, and I was hungry. Unfortunately, there were no hotels available and none of the little shops were open anymore. I had no place else to go except over into the corner of the terminal, where I pretty much curled up in the fetal position and lay in the floor shivering. It was about midnight in the rapidly emptying Charlotte airport, and I was alone.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
PROLOGUE
I'm exhausted and missing more than half of my underwear.
Yeah, I know. That's a heck of a way to begin an entry on my blog, but it's true.
You'd think that with an opening like that, I must have had a wild start to my spring break, but I assure you, it isn't what you think.
For those of you who didn't already know, I just returned yesterday from a trip to Miami to visit my friend Sara, who is recovering from her multi-visceral transplant. I probably would have mentioned my trip before now, but we were keeping it a surprise. I'm really quite proud of the fact that I didn't slip up and say anything, because I am notorious for spilling secrets on accident. Since Sara reads this (Hey, Sara!), I had to constantly remind myself not to allude to the fact that I was going to be flying down to see her! So, if you've wondered where I've been for the past few days, I've been down in South Florida, partying with the locals! : )
I want to tell you about my trip, which involves adventure, intrigue, lust, anger, and a level of bad luck that would have caused most people to jump off of the roof. I want to tell you, and I will, but I still have a bad case of jet lag and I don't seem to be able to stay awake for long periods of time. Over the next day or so, I will tell you my story.
Stay Tuned.
I'm exhausted and missing more than half of my underwear.
Yeah, I know. That's a heck of a way to begin an entry on my blog, but it's true.
You'd think that with an opening like that, I must have had a wild start to my spring break, but I assure you, it isn't what you think.
For those of you who didn't already know, I just returned yesterday from a trip to Miami to visit my friend Sara, who is recovering from her multi-visceral transplant. I probably would have mentioned my trip before now, but we were keeping it a surprise. I'm really quite proud of the fact that I didn't slip up and say anything, because I am notorious for spilling secrets on accident. Since Sara reads this (Hey, Sara!), I had to constantly remind myself not to allude to the fact that I was going to be flying down to see her! So, if you've wondered where I've been for the past few days, I've been down in South Florida, partying with the locals! : )
I want to tell you about my trip, which involves adventure, intrigue, lust, anger, and a level of bad luck that would have caused most people to jump off of the roof. I want to tell you, and I will, but I still have a bad case of jet lag and I don't seem to be able to stay awake for long periods of time. Over the next day or so, I will tell you my story.
Stay Tuned.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Off Leash, a blog for those of us who want to know what dogs are thinking.
Plus, it's pretty frakin' funny!
Plus, it's pretty frakin' funny!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
I'd like to formally apologize to my neighbors for the language their children no doubt picked up from me today. I'm sure that they heard the things I said, even through the walls of my bedroom, and I hope that with in-depth therapy, those phrases will be wiped from their impressionable little minds in no time.
See, what happened was, I bought a new pair of buddy shoes, you know...pseudo-Keds. Those ubiquitous canvas low toppers that last about a summer before the upper part rips freely from the sole. Wal-Mart and Target are great places to get these.
But I digress.
I bought these shoes because I needed some comfortable, slip-on sneakers that I could wear to work. Well, one thing I forgot about buddy shoes is the fact that when one has been wearing boots pretty much all winter, plus the fact that your feet are all tender and soft from not being exposed to the elements, the heels of these fraking shoes will eat the back of your feet alive if you don't wear socks with them before they are broken in. Well, guess what I did. Indeed, I -sockless and clueless- wore these cute little shoes to work and school today. Only, about two ours in, I realized that my heels were flaming balls of agony. No problem, I'll just pop over to Wal-Mart and get some kind of bandage or cushion thingie to help me out.
Well, I can't find exactly what I'm looking for, but I found this stuff called Mole-Skin, which appeared to be a soft, adhesive stuff used for the problem that I was having. So I get to work, and slap some of this stuff on both my heels and the inside backs of my shoes! Brilliant! Worked like a charm! However, I still had sore feet because of the blister and friction burns on my heels from earlier. When I came home and removed the shoes, I went to remove the Mole-Skin that was plastered over my heels. My left foot was fine. I had one blister, but I had bandaged it and then put the other stuff over that. My right foot, however, was another story. As I pulled on the adhesive, I found that it wouldn't come off. Plus, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So I tried pulling in the opposite direction. Still, it hurt. So I braced myself and did the patented "Rip-Off-The-Band Aid" move. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaad Mistake. Apparently, at some point between when I had put the Mole-Skin on my heel and when I got home, two new blisters formed underneath. When I ripped it off, I also ripped off two largish pieces of my own flesh in the process. I haven't heard things like that ever come out of my mouth, ever.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go get into the fetal position in the living room and whine over my mangled feet.
See, what happened was, I bought a new pair of buddy shoes, you know...pseudo-Keds. Those ubiquitous canvas low toppers that last about a summer before the upper part rips freely from the sole. Wal-Mart and Target are great places to get these.
But I digress.
I bought these shoes because I needed some comfortable, slip-on sneakers that I could wear to work. Well, one thing I forgot about buddy shoes is the fact that when one has been wearing boots pretty much all winter, plus the fact that your feet are all tender and soft from not being exposed to the elements, the heels of these fraking shoes will eat the back of your feet alive if you don't wear socks with them before they are broken in. Well, guess what I did. Indeed, I -sockless and clueless- wore these cute little shoes to work and school today. Only, about two ours in, I realized that my heels were flaming balls of agony. No problem, I'll just pop over to Wal-Mart and get some kind of bandage or cushion thingie to help me out.
Well, I can't find exactly what I'm looking for, but I found this stuff called Mole-Skin, which appeared to be a soft, adhesive stuff used for the problem that I was having. So I get to work, and slap some of this stuff on both my heels and the inside backs of my shoes! Brilliant! Worked like a charm! However, I still had sore feet because of the blister and friction burns on my heels from earlier. When I came home and removed the shoes, I went to remove the Mole-Skin that was plastered over my heels. My left foot was fine. I had one blister, but I had bandaged it and then put the other stuff over that. My right foot, however, was another story. As I pulled on the adhesive, I found that it wouldn't come off. Plus, it hurt. It hurt a lot. So I tried pulling in the opposite direction. Still, it hurt. So I braced myself and did the patented "Rip-Off-The-Band Aid" move. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaad Mistake. Apparently, at some point between when I had put the Mole-Skin on my heel and when I got home, two new blisters formed underneath. When I ripped it off, I also ripped off two largish pieces of my own flesh in the process. I haven't heard things like that ever come out of my mouth, ever.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go get into the fetal position in the living room and whine over my mangled feet.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
I don't understand art.
OK, that's probably the last thing I need to admit after studying it in one form or another the past 4 years, but I'm convinced it's true.
Oh, I've learned how to BS fairly convincingly about negative space and use of color, and lighting and all of that happy trash, but I'm going to be honest. A lot of this stuff means nada to me.
I came upon this realization during art shows for two of my classmates. Seniors who are studio art majors who don't study graphic design are required to have a gallery showing in the little renovated chapel on our campus. I've been getting the invitations almost every two weeks since I started school. Some of the people I know, but most of them I don't. I'll be honest, I don't normally go to these things because I haven't had time or I forget about them, but very recently I was straight out asked if I was going by the girl who's art was on display. What could I say? I had some time before going back to work, and I didn't think it would be polite to tell her I didn't want to, so I went.
First off, let me say, the girl is a very talented painter. Her pictures were very well done and she really has a style of her own that could probably make her a celebrated artist someday. Next, let me say, the paintings were almost all nudes of herself. Nudes of herself before, during and after her pregnancy. NUDES! OF! HER! My classmate! My classmate who I sit across from twice a week! I couldn't even run screaming or stabbing my eyes out because that would have been rude! There was nothing I could do but make the round of the gallery, leave a comment in her book, and leave as quickly as possible.
Look, I've gotten over my initial freaking-out over seeing naked people in art. In fact, sometimes I'll be looking at a book of photographs or drawings of nudes and it takes me a few minutes to realize that I'm even looking at a naked person unless someone else mentions it. However, the nudes in the books or whatever are not people who I have to interact with on a fairly regular basis. I like to know people better before I see them naked. It's just the way I roll.
OK, same setting, two weeks later. The same girl asked if I was going to see the new gallery exhibit, which happened to belong to her boyfriend or husband...don't know which because she just said that he was the father of her son. Anywho, once again, I had no reason to say no, so went. Thankfully, there were no nudes or semi-nudes of this guy who I've had a couple of classes with. In fact, I couldn't tell you upon pain of death what the hell that guy had painted. The paintings all had titles, of course, but the images looked like he had painted something on the canvas and then got tired of it and rubbed his hands through it. All 8 canvases were a mixture of the same three colors in the same smudged way. I don't think I'm explaining this right. Let me help you out. You remember when you were a kid and someone gave you a pot of finger paint? You plopped out a clump of paint and smeared it onto your paper until you had a layer of one color? Then you ran your fingers through it and scraped the paint away to make pictures? That is what it was like. There were also bronze sculptures of heads that looked partially eaten and a giant baby bottle nipple made of wood. Oh, and some kind of tangle of ropes in the center of the room with wooden arms hanging in the middle. Wei-rd.
Maybe I'm just not smart or cultured enough to get this stuff, I don't know. If I wasn't so convinced that everyone else who sees this stuff also BS's about negative space and stuff, I'd probably think that my whole college experience was a waste.
OK, that's probably the last thing I need to admit after studying it in one form or another the past 4 years, but I'm convinced it's true.
Oh, I've learned how to BS fairly convincingly about negative space and use of color, and lighting and all of that happy trash, but I'm going to be honest. A lot of this stuff means nada to me.
I came upon this realization during art shows for two of my classmates. Seniors who are studio art majors who don't study graphic design are required to have a gallery showing in the little renovated chapel on our campus. I've been getting the invitations almost every two weeks since I started school. Some of the people I know, but most of them I don't. I'll be honest, I don't normally go to these things because I haven't had time or I forget about them, but very recently I was straight out asked if I was going by the girl who's art was on display. What could I say? I had some time before going back to work, and I didn't think it would be polite to tell her I didn't want to, so I went.
First off, let me say, the girl is a very talented painter. Her pictures were very well done and she really has a style of her own that could probably make her a celebrated artist someday. Next, let me say, the paintings were almost all nudes of herself. Nudes of herself before, during and after her pregnancy. NUDES! OF! HER! My classmate! My classmate who I sit across from twice a week! I couldn't even run screaming or stabbing my eyes out because that would have been rude! There was nothing I could do but make the round of the gallery, leave a comment in her book, and leave as quickly as possible.
Look, I've gotten over my initial freaking-out over seeing naked people in art. In fact, sometimes I'll be looking at a book of photographs or drawings of nudes and it takes me a few minutes to realize that I'm even looking at a naked person unless someone else mentions it. However, the nudes in the books or whatever are not people who I have to interact with on a fairly regular basis. I like to know people better before I see them naked. It's just the way I roll.
OK, same setting, two weeks later. The same girl asked if I was going to see the new gallery exhibit, which happened to belong to her boyfriend or husband...don't know which because she just said that he was the father of her son. Anywho, once again, I had no reason to say no, so went. Thankfully, there were no nudes or semi-nudes of this guy who I've had a couple of classes with. In fact, I couldn't tell you upon pain of death what the hell that guy had painted. The paintings all had titles, of course, but the images looked like he had painted something on the canvas and then got tired of it and rubbed his hands through it. All 8 canvases were a mixture of the same three colors in the same smudged way. I don't think I'm explaining this right. Let me help you out. You remember when you were a kid and someone gave you a pot of finger paint? You plopped out a clump of paint and smeared it onto your paper until you had a layer of one color? Then you ran your fingers through it and scraped the paint away to make pictures? That is what it was like. There were also bronze sculptures of heads that looked partially eaten and a giant baby bottle nipple made of wood. Oh, and some kind of tangle of ropes in the center of the room with wooden arms hanging in the middle. Wei-rd.
Maybe I'm just not smart or cultured enough to get this stuff, I don't know. If I wasn't so convinced that everyone else who sees this stuff also BS's about negative space and stuff, I'd probably think that my whole college experience was a waste.
Monday, March 12, 2007
WEEKEND UPDATE!
I'm back with my weekend update! You know you're glad.
FRIDAY: After work on Friday, Steve and I had dinner with some of our friends that night. Well, some of our friends and two of our co-workers that I don't normally talk to that often. Turns out they were a lot of fun. We went to the Chili's not far from our house because it was close to the theater where some of them were going to see "300". I demurred on the movie because, quite honestly, I didn't care to see it. One semester of Greek history isn't enough to get me hyped over a movie about the battle of Thermopylae. However, the dinner was fun. Chili's crammed 6 full grown adult people into a table that was only meant to comfortably seat four, but they do that a lot. :P After everyone else left for the theater, I felt as though I needed some ice cream, so I went to Cold Stone and was able to find a non-chocolate kind that was good. As I stood there waiting for the disgusted looking ice cream person to mix it up, I looked behind me where some teenagers were dancing and being loud. Does it make me old to wish that they would just be quiet? I remember being that age, so I'm sure I have acted the same way at times, but bleh. Annoying. Anyways, I made it home with my ice cream in tow and enjoyed the last little part of my day by watching Scrubs. I love that show.
SATURDAY: I woke up earlier than I wanted to, but for a good reason. Steve and I were going to be helping Josh move out of his house that day. Yes, I know. He had only lived there for a little over a year, and his house was so cute! However, when you become a priest, you have to take all of those lovely little vows, and poverty is one of them. He sold his house in 11 days, which is awesome, and had to be out of there by that day. When we showed up, Josh's mom's husband and friends had him almost completely moved out. We all felt like we were in the way, but Shannon and I did end up packing his kitchen up for him. Steve and I had decided to buy Josh's dining room furniture to help him out (he has to pay off his debts before he goes to seminary) and also to replace our own old table and stuff. My parents gave Steve and I their old dining room table and chairs, which was about 33 years old, and it was all broke down. However, even though I already had set this up with Josh, he said that he sold it to the man who was buying his house! I was mad! Well, while we were there, the new owner tried to renege on his offer and not pay him for it in return for not making Josh fix two little problems he had seen with the house, but still get the furniture. Josh said no, so he offered it back to Steve and I. At that point I had decided that it was all for the best if I didn't buy it, and when I told Josh that, he got this wild look in his eyes. Apparently he is freaking out about paying off his bills, so I told him we'd get it after all. Yikes. After we had gotten everything out, Josh and I wallered on the living room carpet one more time. We made carpet angels. It was sad. :( Josh won't actually leave for another 5 months, but I'm already starting to miss him. But hey, I get to be buddies with a priest, so that's kind of cool, right? My little, pet Josh is growing up so fast! Once we left Madison, we ended the day with dinner at Cracker Barrel with everyone sans Josh. It was chicken and rice night after-all.
SUNDAY: First off, let me say, I hate the spring forward part of daylight savings time. I don't mind the extra daylight we supposedly get, but I hate losing that hour. Steve and I woke up with a not-enough-sleep hangover, plus we didn't wake up on time to ride to church together. Steve had to leave for orchestra practice and I drug myself around in an attempt to get ready. I was a little late, but I made it! My friend Christie brought her baby to church for the first time, and she is a cutie! I didn't hold her, and Christie (who made me swear I'd get over my fear and hold her anyway) didn't mind. She has those First-Time-Mom fears of letting Lily out of her sight. Color me relieved. I'll hold her when she has more bones in her head. :) After church, Steve got an e-mail with a problem at work, so I traveled on my own to have lunch with the family. When I got home, I fell asleep again (my allergies are killing me!) and then finally got up in time to do my take home exam for theater history. Fun Stuff.
Oh! I finally got to talk to my friend Sara this morning after I don't know how long! Well, talk may not be the word, but I chatted with her until she got called away. At least I think she got called away. She stopped talking to me, anyways. She told me that she may have to have another whole graft again because some of her new parts aren't working! That really sucks, but I'm still praying for a miracle, so I know it isn't completely for sure yet. I just hope she heals soon and can come home again so I can see her. : ) Miami is too far away.
Also, did you know that a self cleaning oven really self cleans? Steve had made a pizza some time ago and oil or something had dripped onto the bottom of the stove. When I tried to make biscuits the other day, the fire alarm went off and I had to open almost all of the windows and the door on that end of the house! So, for the first time, I set the thing on "Clean". I expected that whatever was on the bottom of the oven would burn off and I would have to clean out the ashes. However, when I went back and opened it up, the stuff on the bottom was GONE! Completely disintegrated! I'm pretty sure that if I had been able to see inside, little elves or something were busily cleaning all of that goo away. Something tells me that I shouldn't be so amazed by this, but I can't help it.
I'm back with my weekend update! You know you're glad.
FRIDAY: After work on Friday, Steve and I had dinner with some of our friends that night. Well, some of our friends and two of our co-workers that I don't normally talk to that often. Turns out they were a lot of fun. We went to the Chili's not far from our house because it was close to the theater where some of them were going to see "300". I demurred on the movie because, quite honestly, I didn't care to see it. One semester of Greek history isn't enough to get me hyped over a movie about the battle of Thermopylae. However, the dinner was fun. Chili's crammed 6 full grown adult people into a table that was only meant to comfortably seat four, but they do that a lot. :P After everyone else left for the theater, I felt as though I needed some ice cream, so I went to Cold Stone and was able to find a non-chocolate kind that was good. As I stood there waiting for the disgusted looking ice cream person to mix it up, I looked behind me where some teenagers were dancing and being loud. Does it make me old to wish that they would just be quiet? I remember being that age, so I'm sure I have acted the same way at times, but bleh. Annoying. Anyways, I made it home with my ice cream in tow and enjoyed the last little part of my day by watching Scrubs. I love that show.
SATURDAY: I woke up earlier than I wanted to, but for a good reason. Steve and I were going to be helping Josh move out of his house that day. Yes, I know. He had only lived there for a little over a year, and his house was so cute! However, when you become a priest, you have to take all of those lovely little vows, and poverty is one of them. He sold his house in 11 days, which is awesome, and had to be out of there by that day. When we showed up, Josh's mom's husband and friends had him almost completely moved out. We all felt like we were in the way, but Shannon and I did end up packing his kitchen up for him. Steve and I had decided to buy Josh's dining room furniture to help him out (he has to pay off his debts before he goes to seminary) and also to replace our own old table and stuff. My parents gave Steve and I their old dining room table and chairs, which was about 33 years old, and it was all broke down. However, even though I already had set this up with Josh, he said that he sold it to the man who was buying his house! I was mad! Well, while we were there, the new owner tried to renege on his offer and not pay him for it in return for not making Josh fix two little problems he had seen with the house, but still get the furniture. Josh said no, so he offered it back to Steve and I. At that point I had decided that it was all for the best if I didn't buy it, and when I told Josh that, he got this wild look in his eyes. Apparently he is freaking out about paying off his bills, so I told him we'd get it after all. Yikes. After we had gotten everything out, Josh and I wallered on the living room carpet one more time. We made carpet angels. It was sad. :( Josh won't actually leave for another 5 months, but I'm already starting to miss him. But hey, I get to be buddies with a priest, so that's kind of cool, right? My little, pet Josh is growing up so fast! Once we left Madison, we ended the day with dinner at Cracker Barrel with everyone sans Josh. It was chicken and rice night after-all.
SUNDAY: First off, let me say, I hate the spring forward part of daylight savings time. I don't mind the extra daylight we supposedly get, but I hate losing that hour. Steve and I woke up with a not-enough-sleep hangover, plus we didn't wake up on time to ride to church together. Steve had to leave for orchestra practice and I drug myself around in an attempt to get ready. I was a little late, but I made it! My friend Christie brought her baby to church for the first time, and she is a cutie! I didn't hold her, and Christie (who made me swear I'd get over my fear and hold her anyway) didn't mind. She has those First-Time-Mom fears of letting Lily out of her sight. Color me relieved. I'll hold her when she has more bones in her head. :) After church, Steve got an e-mail with a problem at work, so I traveled on my own to have lunch with the family. When I got home, I fell asleep again (my allergies are killing me!) and then finally got up in time to do my take home exam for theater history. Fun Stuff.
Oh! I finally got to talk to my friend Sara this morning after I don't know how long! Well, talk may not be the word, but I chatted with her until she got called away. At least I think she got called away. She stopped talking to me, anyways. She told me that she may have to have another whole graft again because some of her new parts aren't working! That really sucks, but I'm still praying for a miracle, so I know it isn't completely for sure yet. I just hope she heals soon and can come home again so I can see her. : ) Miami is too far away.
Also, did you know that a self cleaning oven really self cleans? Steve had made a pizza some time ago and oil or something had dripped onto the bottom of the stove. When I tried to make biscuits the other day, the fire alarm went off and I had to open almost all of the windows and the door on that end of the house! So, for the first time, I set the thing on "Clean". I expected that whatever was on the bottom of the oven would burn off and I would have to clean out the ashes. However, when I went back and opened it up, the stuff on the bottom was GONE! Completely disintegrated! I'm pretty sure that if I had been able to see inside, little elves or something were busily cleaning all of that goo away. Something tells me that I shouldn't be so amazed by this, but I can't help it.
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