Hey guys I have internet now. (I think. It didn't set up like it was supposed to and I'm currently on hold with telus.) A summary of my life thus far is available below, because I still have thoughts without the internet, and needed somewhere to put them. They are posted under the date upon which the thoughts occurred to me, because that's the kind of person I am.
ps - hey telus, your on hold music sucks. okay thanks.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
master chef, o master chef, wherefore art thou not in my kitchen
I made a mistake on dinner. I forgot to freeze my ground beef in one-person sections, so I had to thaw out and subsequently fry up a whole pack tonight. However, I brilliantly came up with two days worth of meal plans that used ground beef. I would have mac and cheese and ground beef tonight (a delicacy, to be sure), tacos tomorrow, and then freeze whatever I had left. Super good plan.
However, just before dinner I got a call from my landlord saying he’d come by shortly to fix some stuff, and then I called my super to arrange for him to come by in a bit to pick up a spare key so he could let the fire people in to do an inspection, and I think I was distracted. After frying and seasoning the ground beef and doctoring up my macaroni, I poured the mac into the beef and started stirring. It wasn’t until AFTER I’d started stirring that I realized I had forgotten to separate the beef into sections for tonight and tomorrow, and I’d already mixed it up too much to separate, so I muttered a curse word (that’s a lie, I shouted a curse word and almost tore my hair out in frustration – living alone seems to make mildly upsetting things REALLY upsetting) and decided that I’d have to have mac and cheese and ground beef for dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, and dinner tomorrow. GROSS.
Plus, the ratio of mac and cheese to ground beef was not acceptable. It’s like 60% beef to 40% non-beef. I think I’m going to have to make up another box of KD to mix in to the debacle, and just throw away what I can’t eat. I am so disappointed, you guys. I had it all planned out.
However, just before dinner I got a call from my landlord saying he’d come by shortly to fix some stuff, and then I called my super to arrange for him to come by in a bit to pick up a spare key so he could let the fire people in to do an inspection, and I think I was distracted. After frying and seasoning the ground beef and doctoring up my macaroni, I poured the mac into the beef and started stirring. It wasn’t until AFTER I’d started stirring that I realized I had forgotten to separate the beef into sections for tonight and tomorrow, and I’d already mixed it up too much to separate, so I muttered a curse word (that’s a lie, I shouted a curse word and almost tore my hair out in frustration – living alone seems to make mildly upsetting things REALLY upsetting) and decided that I’d have to have mac and cheese and ground beef for dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow, and dinner tomorrow. GROSS.
Plus, the ratio of mac and cheese to ground beef was not acceptable. It’s like 60% beef to 40% non-beef. I think I’m going to have to make up another box of KD to mix in to the debacle, and just throw away what I can’t eat. I am so disappointed, you guys. I had it all planned out.
Monday, August 30, 2010
i left my body at the top of the hill
I live pretty close to the beach. I can see the ocean from a few places in my apartment if I stand on my tip-toes, and it’s maybe a five minute drive to the sea walk. I thought, hey, why don’t I walk to the beach? Yesterday I spent most of the day watching episodes of Popular, so I could probably use the fresh air. Mother and I had planned on walking to the beach while she was here, but never got a chance, but from our plan I knew it wasn’t actually that close via walking. I’d have to walk down a hill, and then on the Island Highway for a bit, and then I’d get to the sea walk. Today, I optimistically wore my sweat pants and runners, and set out for the beach.
After about five minutes of walking, I started to get a sinking feeling. Walking to the beach was going to be super easy, because it’s all downhill; walking home from the beach was going to be a disaster, because it’s all up hill. However, even with this in mind I just wanted to see how far it was. Walking beside the highway was a bit scary because I was on the side with no sidewalk (keep in mind that when I say “highway” it is not a highway like on the mainland. It’s one lane both ways, but it’s still a busy road) but I persevered until I made it to the beginning of the sea walk. Fifteen minutes, only! Although because of the steep downhill the whole way my legs felt a bit funny. I walked for a bit on the sea walk, and discovered it to be a misnomer: for the first while, it is actually just a regular sidewalk because houses and apartment buildings have taken over the beach and inserted themselves between the seawalk and the ocean. So I gave up and turned around, because I was anticipating an awful uphill battle and it was taking too long to see the ocean.
Walking home was just as bad as I’d thought it would be. I was good at the first big hill, because I just kept putting one foot in front of the other at a steady pace, but then I came to the part where I had to cross the highway – there was a crosswalk, but not one with lights so I didn’t know if anyone would actually stop for me. They did, and because I didn’t want to take twenty minutes to cross the street with cars waiting impatiently on either side, I ran across. Then I didn’t want to look like an idiot who just runs across the street and then walks the rest of the way, so I ran up the hill for a bit until I thought all the cars who’d seen me were gone. HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS. That was a terrible idea. I was debating collapsing on someone’s lawn for a recuperation break, but remembered from high school PE that you are not supposed to suddenly stop moving after exerting yourself. So I kept going. Up and up and up the stupid hill back to my apartment. Then I had to climb a flight of stairs because I feel silly taking the elevator up one floor, plus it’s a creepy elevator who is never quite sure if it’s going to open the doors for you or not.
As soon as I’d locked the front door behind me, I threw all my clothes in the laundry and jumped in the shower. I haven’t exercised like that since I moved all my stuff into my apartment. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sore tomorrow. What was I thinking? Wearing sweatpants does not automatically make me athletic. Maybe next time I will drive down to the beach and THEN walk. Or challenge myself and find a slightly more gradual way home. We’ll see.
After about five minutes of walking, I started to get a sinking feeling. Walking to the beach was going to be super easy, because it’s all downhill; walking home from the beach was going to be a disaster, because it’s all up hill. However, even with this in mind I just wanted to see how far it was. Walking beside the highway was a bit scary because I was on the side with no sidewalk (keep in mind that when I say “highway” it is not a highway like on the mainland. It’s one lane both ways, but it’s still a busy road) but I persevered until I made it to the beginning of the sea walk. Fifteen minutes, only! Although because of the steep downhill the whole way my legs felt a bit funny. I walked for a bit on the sea walk, and discovered it to be a misnomer: for the first while, it is actually just a regular sidewalk because houses and apartment buildings have taken over the beach and inserted themselves between the seawalk and the ocean. So I gave up and turned around, because I was anticipating an awful uphill battle and it was taking too long to see the ocean.
Walking home was just as bad as I’d thought it would be. I was good at the first big hill, because I just kept putting one foot in front of the other at a steady pace, but then I came to the part where I had to cross the highway – there was a crosswalk, but not one with lights so I didn’t know if anyone would actually stop for me. They did, and because I didn’t want to take twenty minutes to cross the street with cars waiting impatiently on either side, I ran across. Then I didn’t want to look like an idiot who just runs across the street and then walks the rest of the way, so I ran up the hill for a bit until I thought all the cars who’d seen me were gone. HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS. That was a terrible idea. I was debating collapsing on someone’s lawn for a recuperation break, but remembered from high school PE that you are not supposed to suddenly stop moving after exerting yourself. So I kept going. Up and up and up the stupid hill back to my apartment. Then I had to climb a flight of stairs because I feel silly taking the elevator up one floor, plus it’s a creepy elevator who is never quite sure if it’s going to open the doors for you or not.
As soon as I’d locked the front door behind me, I threw all my clothes in the laundry and jumped in the shower. I haven’t exercised like that since I moved all my stuff into my apartment. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sore tomorrow. What was I thinking? Wearing sweatpants does not automatically make me athletic. Maybe next time I will drive down to the beach and THEN walk. Or challenge myself and find a slightly more gradual way home. We’ll see.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
watch out for robo-shopper
Something I have not yet mastered: pushing a shopping cart. I have a strong aversion to pushing shopping carts. Whenever Mother and I go shopping, I hold the list and she pushes the cart. (Sidenote: it is really difficult to do both. I was in the checkout and suddenly remembered that I had forgotten the mustard. Sorry mustard, I will return for you another day.) I hate pushing carts. I feel like a hybrid robot/person who hasn’t figured out how to use her mechanical parts yet and keeps banging into things and misfiring her lasers. (How awesome would that be?? I would feel better pushing around a shopping cart with lasers.) I feel more acutely embarrassed when I go down the wrong aisle with a shopping cart, because you have to turn the stupid thing around, which makes it more obvious that you made a mistake. Also, you can’t squeeze through places with a giant cart banging around. I had to skip aisles and then come back to them later, because of traffic, and I feel this is most inefficient. Don’t even get me started on the produce section. (Although, I had a cute moment: all I know about picking watermelons is that they should be heavy. So I picked up a couple and weighed them in my hands, feeling for the heaviest one. I chose mine, and then noticed a little girl staring at me. As I wheeled away I saw her pick up several watermelons and weigh them in her hands like me. ADORABLE.)
Regretful impulse buy: I was suckered into buying Banana Nut Cheerios because they were on sale. Do you know why they were on sale? BECAUSE THEY ARE DISGUSTING. What I should have bought instead was Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, which is what I had my eye on in the first place. Sometimes it’s worth it to pay a little more for something that is not gross.
Non-regretful impulse buy: lemon gelato. I wanted frozen yogurt, because that’s one of my favourite things, but it’s super hard to find frozen yogurt. Gelato isn’t that bad for you either, so I thought I’d take a chance. I opened it when I got home and was a little discouraged because it looked like a container full of an invisible dessert. I guess when you turn lemons into gelato they lose all colour? I thought it would be yellow, but it’s like a colourless void. It’s tasty, though. (I also have lemon yogurt. Maybe I should branch off into some other flavours. Although, that’s what I was trying to do with stupid Banana Nut Cheerios.)
Somebody’s moving out today. I hope it’s Jerkface Music Guy. I ended up calling the super guy and found out that somebody on the third floor had been evicted, and was just being difficult until moving day. I’ll find out at 2am if I can’t hear any music!
Regretful impulse buy: I was suckered into buying Banana Nut Cheerios because they were on sale. Do you know why they were on sale? BECAUSE THEY ARE DISGUSTING. What I should have bought instead was Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, which is what I had my eye on in the first place. Sometimes it’s worth it to pay a little more for something that is not gross.
Non-regretful impulse buy: lemon gelato. I wanted frozen yogurt, because that’s one of my favourite things, but it’s super hard to find frozen yogurt. Gelato isn’t that bad for you either, so I thought I’d take a chance. I opened it when I got home and was a little discouraged because it looked like a container full of an invisible dessert. I guess when you turn lemons into gelato they lose all colour? I thought it would be yellow, but it’s like a colourless void. It’s tasty, though. (I also have lemon yogurt. Maybe I should branch off into some other flavours. Although, that’s what I was trying to do with stupid Banana Nut Cheerios.)
Somebody’s moving out today. I hope it’s Jerkface Music Guy. I ended up calling the super guy and found out that somebody on the third floor had been evicted, and was just being difficult until moving day. I’ll find out at 2am if I can’t hear any music!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
only as brave as your weapons
You guys, this is how awesome I am.
- three spiders and two ants on my patio are no longer with us thanks to my CRAZY FLYSWATTER OF DOOM. This is my reaction: 1) GAAAAAAAAAAAAASP!! 2) *jump out of chair and grab flyswatter* 3) SMACK! “Ha!” Question: is the relish with which I assassinate these creatures and the subsequent glee I feel a sign that I am a psychopath? Just something to ponder.
- one crane fly (or drunk-driver fly, as they were known throughout my childhood) KILLED IN MIDAIR because it unwittingly stumbled into my bedroom in the middle of the night. This is my reaction: 1) *listen to bizare tap tap tap sound* “Am I being robbed? Is there a mouse in here? Is it a monster?” 2) *locate sound – coming from between blinds and window* 3) *jump out of bed and grab spare flyswatter. Stalk crane fly, who refuses to hold still and then LANDS ON MY CLOTHING. Ew.* 4) “You know what? Take THAT.” *SMACK with flyswatter in the general direction of the psycho crane fly, THUMP goes crane fly into my box of shoes. KILLED IN MIDAIR you guys.*
Now if only I could figure out what to do about the fruit flies. They are too small for my flyswatter.
- three spiders and two ants on my patio are no longer with us thanks to my CRAZY FLYSWATTER OF DOOM. This is my reaction: 1) GAAAAAAAAAAAAASP!! 2) *jump out of chair and grab flyswatter* 3) SMACK! “Ha!” Question: is the relish with which I assassinate these creatures and the subsequent glee I feel a sign that I am a psychopath? Just something to ponder.
- one crane fly (or drunk-driver fly, as they were known throughout my childhood) KILLED IN MIDAIR because it unwittingly stumbled into my bedroom in the middle of the night. This is my reaction: 1) *listen to bizare tap tap tap sound* “Am I being robbed? Is there a mouse in here? Is it a monster?” 2) *locate sound – coming from between blinds and window* 3) *jump out of bed and grab spare flyswatter. Stalk crane fly, who refuses to hold still and then LANDS ON MY CLOTHING. Ew.* 4) “You know what? Take THAT.” *SMACK with flyswatter in the general direction of the psycho crane fly, THUMP goes crane fly into my box of shoes. KILLED IN MIDAIR you guys.*
Now if only I could figure out what to do about the fruit flies. They are too small for my flyswatter.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
hey now what's this
My mom left today so I’ve been puttering around my apartment, which feels strange. I went to take my garbage out, and said to myself, “This is where I live now.” I wonder how long it will take to really feel like it’s really where I live, instead of just a hotel or something. (A lousy hotel. I have to do all my own dishes.) There are two fruit flies having a dance party in my kitchen, but I can’t remember how to get rid of them and I don’t have internet yet. I can’t steal internet from any of my neighbours because they’ve all cleverly protected theirs. Boo. I wonder if not getting cable was a bad idea – it’s so quiet in here. Although, I had planned on responsibly watching one episode of Popular with my dinner, and then watched two, and would have watched three except I convinced myself I should take my garbage out before it started smelling. The whole process made me feel like a grown-up. I think lots of things are going to make me feel like a grown-up in a very short period of time. I’m not so sure I like it. Although I do like my apartment, except for the stupid person above me who puts their music on at 9pm and leaves it on LITERALLY all night long. WHO DOES THAT. I am trying to work up the nerve to talk to the super about it (what does “super” stand for in this particular instance? Supervisor? Superintendent? Superlative?) because I don’t want to be the complainy neighbour but I also want to sleep at night. What a crazy idea.
I might have to re-think my clock. I bought a new clock to put in my living room but it just sits there going TICK… TOCK… TICK… TOCK… all day long. I don’t think that’s going to work for me.
I might have to re-think my clock. I bought a new clock to put in my living room but it just sits there going TICK… TOCK… TICK… TOCK… all day long. I don’t think that’s going to work for me.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
so don't try, no don't try
This is what I learned today. If a bunch of different companies check your credit rating for completely legitimate reasons, it can temporarily affect your credit score and give you a heart attack. I was trying to buy a phone from Koodo, who is all like, "Our phones are free because of Tab!" except that surprise, if you signed up for Telus internet yesterday Telus did a credit check on you, and then the credit check people are all, "Whoa, so many credit checks in such a short period of time! DENIED!", you can't get a free phone because of Tab. Because you need to have good credit to have Tab, and apparently my credit is going to be bad for a few days. Even though I have impeccable credit ALL THE OTHER TIMES when I am not signing up for Telus internet. The guy at Best Buy felt bad for me because I was a little bit upset so he gave me some extra decals for my new phone. Hopefully in a few days my credit rating will be back to normal AND I will have extra decals for my phone.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
subdued with painted tongues
For some reason I have an inability to stand still over the sink whilst brushing my teeth. (Side comment: one time when looking at some website about grammar, I learned that "whilst" and "while" mean exactly the same thing, and people who use high-faultin' "whilst" instead of regular old "while" are pretentious jerkfaces. This almost physically wounded me, because I LOVE "whilst," because saying things fancy instead of saying them plain is one of my favourite things. I don't know why I'm telling you this, except maybe I want your opinion, and argue that I think people who use "whilst" are whimsical but there is nothing wrong with people who say "while.") This has led to a lot of toothpaste-stained shirts, because hey, did you know that if you get toothpaste on something it bleaches it? Surprise! The reason I mention it is because I'm worried about accidentally leaving behind little bleach dots all over the carpet in my new apartment and then I don't think I'll get my damage deposit back. Or, maybe I use too much toothpaste and it's not supposed to froth out of my mouth like it does? Before I reduce the amount I use to conduct an experiment on this query, I should pretend I have rabies because I've never done that before.
fast asleep is where i keep my memories
The dreams just before you wake up are the weirdest, yo. Last night/this morning I dreamt that I was rolling a sheep up a grassy hill with a friend of mine, who was rolling her own sheep up the same hill, and we were both singing "In Sleep" by Lissie. The sheep were real sheep but with a pulled-wool look, and seemed to be cool with being rolled up a hill, because they both seemed passive about the whole thing. Then my friend and I got to this copse of trees, and I'd planned on rolling the sheep around the trees but suddenly a bunch of bees started attacking me. I was like, "Bees! We need to run around the outside!" so I abandoned my sheep and ran to the edge of the forest where there were flowers, thinking the bees wouldn't follow me. Then I woke up and felt badly for leaving the sheep behind.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
run and run as the rains come
I braided my hair last night, and when I woke up it was straight. Early this morning I had to turn off my bedside fan because I was cold. When I drank my breakfast coffee outside I needed to wear a sweatshirt because it is windy and gray outside. Today = opposite day?
Monday, August 16, 2010
read me your favourite line
I haven't got anything interesting to say. It's hot outside.
Oh, if anybody here likes those historical romance books, or old timey mysteries with a hint of romance, you should request a Georgette Heyer book from the library. (Please note that she writes books in those two separate genres. If you are looking for the mystery and get one of the romances, you will be disappointed. Or maybe not, because she's pretty awesome. If you're looking for the romance and you get one of the mysteries, you will not be disappointed because there is sneaky romance! Surprise!) I can't remember why I got one of her books in the first place, but all of a sudden I am obsessed with her. She is from the early 1900s and I always assume that people were not funny until at least the 1970s, but she is super funny. Her books were published in the 1930s and surrounding eras, so they are a little bit hard to find, but some publishing company is reprinting them all and selling them for exorbitant amounts of money. I, however, went on a used bookstore treasure hunt and found 10 of her books! Five of them together in one giant hardcover volume, but still. It's all very exciting. The guy I bought them from said she sells out very quickly, so if you do request her books from the library and discover her to be as awesome as I am telling you she is, go buy her books from Amazon and leave the used bookstores to me. I say that is the most respectful way possible.
Oh, if anybody here likes those historical romance books, or old timey mysteries with a hint of romance, you should request a Georgette Heyer book from the library. (Please note that she writes books in those two separate genres. If you are looking for the mystery and get one of the romances, you will be disappointed. Or maybe not, because she's pretty awesome. If you're looking for the romance and you get one of the mysteries, you will not be disappointed because there is sneaky romance! Surprise!) I can't remember why I got one of her books in the first place, but all of a sudden I am obsessed with her. She is from the early 1900s and I always assume that people were not funny until at least the 1970s, but she is super funny. Her books were published in the 1930s and surrounding eras, so they are a little bit hard to find, but some publishing company is reprinting them all and selling them for exorbitant amounts of money. I, however, went on a used bookstore treasure hunt and found 10 of her books! Five of them together in one giant hardcover volume, but still. It's all very exciting. The guy I bought them from said she sells out very quickly, so if you do request her books from the library and discover her to be as awesome as I am telling you she is, go buy her books from Amazon and leave the used bookstores to me. I say that is the most respectful way possible.
Friday, August 13, 2010
just burying my luck
Planning, talking about, buying for, packing for, and renting an apartment are all in one category. Actually living by oneself, on an island, away from people who know me is a completely different category. I don't think I can actually conceive of how difficult it's going to be for me, at least for the first while. Nobody understands why my move is in two phases, but I'm glad I did it this way. My brain can slowly wrap itself around the concept of moving away. "Why is there no stuff in my room?" "Oh right, it's because all my stuff is in my OTHER room, five hours away. Where I live. By myself."
One time I got a bloody nose while playing tag on Friday the 13th. This other time I broke my ankle most severely on Thursday the 12th, then had reconstructive surgery on Friday the 13th, but I think it all went okay. The elevators in the hospital broke down, but that may have been on the 14th. Probably unrelated.
Possibly related: this morning I woke up on the irritated side of the bed. My hair is bugging me, the taste in my throat from my eye drops is bugging me, my stupid eyeballs are bugging me, my pants are bugging me, my half-empty room is bugging me, consistently typing = instead of - is bugging me.
I think I want to go through every single blog entry and uncapitalize all my titles, but I'm not sure I'll ever have the time. Also, I don't think it's important enough for all the effort it's going to take.
One time I got a bloody nose while playing tag on Friday the 13th. This other time I broke my ankle most severely on Thursday the 12th, then had reconstructive surgery on Friday the 13th, but I think it all went okay. The elevators in the hospital broke down, but that may have been on the 14th. Probably unrelated.
Possibly related: this morning I woke up on the irritated side of the bed. My hair is bugging me, the taste in my throat from my eye drops is bugging me, my stupid eyeballs are bugging me, my pants are bugging me, my half-empty room is bugging me, consistently typing = instead of - is bugging me.
I think I want to go through every single blog entry and uncapitalize all my titles, but I'm not sure I'll ever have the time. Also, I don't think it's important enough for all the effort it's going to take.
Monday, August 9, 2010
see what you find there
So my moving truck is packed. It feels strange. I think it's not as sad/weird as it could be, since I'm only moving for three days, and then coming home for a week or so, and THEN I am permanently relocating my person. (Permanently for a year, I mean.) This is what I learned:
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
- it's very important to lift with your legs
- don't put ALL your dishes in the same box because it makes it really heavy and uncomfortably fragile
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
One of the things I am looking forward to about living on my own is that when I am not cranky, there will be no one else cranky in my immediate proximity to infect me with their crankiness. (I know this is hypocritical because sometimes I am cranky for no reason without regard for others too, but I am glad that when I wake up happy I will not be confronted with a grouchy person.)
When thinking about my move, it always comes one extreme at a time. Either I focus on all the good stuff and I am excited, or I focus on all the bad stuff and I am freaking out. Why can't I just have one good thought and one bad thought at a time, to balance each other out? Or, several good thoughts and one bad thought? Why is my brain so dumb?
Also my mysterious wrist pain is back. Bad timing, wrist! Please try again in a few days, when I am not required to lift heavy things.
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
- it's very important to lift with your legs
- don't put ALL your dishes in the same box because it makes it really heavy and uncomfortably fragile
- moving heavy things makes people cranky
One of the things I am looking forward to about living on my own is that when I am not cranky, there will be no one else cranky in my immediate proximity to infect me with their crankiness. (I know this is hypocritical because sometimes I am cranky for no reason without regard for others too, but I am glad that when I wake up happy I will not be confronted with a grouchy person.)
When thinking about my move, it always comes one extreme at a time. Either I focus on all the good stuff and I am excited, or I focus on all the bad stuff and I am freaking out. Why can't I just have one good thought and one bad thought at a time, to balance each other out? Or, several good thoughts and one bad thought? Why is my brain so dumb?
Also my mysterious wrist pain is back. Bad timing, wrist! Please try again in a few days, when I am not required to lift heavy things.
we all look like we feel
Obviously, even though my mother told me to go to bed an hour ago, I am still not asleep. I don't know what I'm going to do when I move away and there is no one to tell me to go to bed. (You guys! Send me emails late at night telling me to go to bed. Then we can stay connected and I will go to bed.)
A tiny bug just crawled across my mousepad, and I am SO PROUD of myself for not slamming my laptop shut and squishing guts everywhere, because I can't afford a new computer right now and I would not be able to use it again after that. On a semi-related note, I read on the internet tonight that even though everyone has heard the statistic about how many spiders you eat while you are sleeping, it's totally not true. Spiders are too smart to be eaten. I am glad to hear this, although the thought of smart spiders makes me uncomfortable. Like that one Three Stooges movie where they go to space for some reason and the first thing they find is this GIANT SPIDER who chases them. Even with poor CGI it's frightening. This is not what I should be thinking of when I am supposed to be asleep.
I am on a never-ending quest for the best songs, and this randomly recently led me to Dashboard Confessional. Remember, from a million years ago? (Band, or just one dude? I'm pretty sure it's just one dude, but I am thrown off by the band name. Side note: he looks nothing like I had pictured.) In the song "Stolen" he says "you are the best one of the best ones," and I think that is the most romantic thing I have ever heard.
A tiny bug just crawled across my mousepad, and I am SO PROUD of myself for not slamming my laptop shut and squishing guts everywhere, because I can't afford a new computer right now and I would not be able to use it again after that. On a semi-related note, I read on the internet tonight that even though everyone has heard the statistic about how many spiders you eat while you are sleeping, it's totally not true. Spiders are too smart to be eaten. I am glad to hear this, although the thought of smart spiders makes me uncomfortable. Like that one Three Stooges movie where they go to space for some reason and the first thing they find is this GIANT SPIDER who chases them. Even with poor CGI it's frightening. This is not what I should be thinking of when I am supposed to be asleep.
I am on a never-ending quest for the best songs, and this randomly recently led me to Dashboard Confessional. Remember, from a million years ago? (Band, or just one dude? I'm pretty sure it's just one dude, but I am thrown off by the band name. Side note: he looks nothing like I had pictured.) In the song "Stolen" he says "you are the best one of the best ones," and I think that is the most romantic thing I have ever heard.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
easily a hundred times cooler than armageddon (go to bed part 4)
[apparently up too late watching Transformers brings out my sense of justice]
Me: That's not fair. The most bad guy is a jet plane and the most good guy is a semi truck! That's not equal!
Mom: It's not equal at all. Go to bed.
Me: That's not fair. The most bad guy is a jet plane and the most good guy is a semi truck! That's not equal!
Mom: It's not equal at all. Go to bed.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
you should stop trippin
Here's the problem. I've got this friend who is a regular patron of the local library. This friend of mine discovered that the library is a good source of movies and tv shows from the BBC, so she started taking out a bunch at a time. Now, this friend of mine, she's never had a problem with late fees. Everything she took out was always returned, in pristine condition, on time. Early, even.
One day, while perusing her library account online, this friend of mine noticed a DVD she'd returned shown as still being checked out. As it was coming due, she panicked a bit and called the library. "It says this DVD is still out, but I returned it!" she said, a beacon of innocence and honesty. The library worker assured my friend that they would look into it, and someone would call her back. A few days went by and there was no word from the library, so my friend checked her online account and noticed that it had been removed from her "Items Out" menu, but had been moved to "Blocks" (which is like "Assorted Notes and Comments" for people who don't frequent their online library account as much as my friend does) with the title: "Claimed Return." CLAIMED. The word struck my friend in my heart like a knife. It was not a claimed return, it was a RETURNED return.
(I will take this moment to let you know about the time my friend returned a book, but the library claimed that she'd lost it, so she marched into the library, took the "lost" book off the shelf, and showed it triumphantly to the librarian. RETURNED return.)
Fast forward in our tale a few weeks. This friend of mine, she updated me: her mother was looking at the family collection of DVDs, and lo and behold she found the DVD my friend was certain she had returned. My friend's mom was apologetic, assuming responsibility for sweeping the rental DVD in with the rest when she was cleaning house.
Here is the dilemma. Does my friend return the DVD to the library, and sheepishly apologize for the misunderstanding, and pay the no doubt EXORBITANT overdue fines? Or does she keep the DVD that the library has already believed to be lost, at no fault of my friend? Or, and this is what I'm thinking I should advise her to do, should she take the DVD to a different library than her usual, and hide it among the other DVDs until some diligent library worker notices it and assumes there has just been some kind of mistake?
My friend would really appreciate your advice on this matter. She told me so.
One day, while perusing her library account online, this friend of mine noticed a DVD she'd returned shown as still being checked out. As it was coming due, she panicked a bit and called the library. "It says this DVD is still out, but I returned it!" she said, a beacon of innocence and honesty. The library worker assured my friend that they would look into it, and someone would call her back. A few days went by and there was no word from the library, so my friend checked her online account and noticed that it had been removed from her "Items Out" menu, but had been moved to "Blocks" (which is like "Assorted Notes and Comments" for people who don't frequent their online library account as much as my friend does) with the title: "Claimed Return." CLAIMED. The word struck my friend in my heart like a knife. It was not a claimed return, it was a RETURNED return.
(I will take this moment to let you know about the time my friend returned a book, but the library claimed that she'd lost it, so she marched into the library, took the "lost" book off the shelf, and showed it triumphantly to the librarian. RETURNED return.)
Fast forward in our tale a few weeks. This friend of mine, she updated me: her mother was looking at the family collection of DVDs, and lo and behold she found the DVD my friend was certain she had returned. My friend's mom was apologetic, assuming responsibility for sweeping the rental DVD in with the rest when she was cleaning house.
Here is the dilemma. Does my friend return the DVD to the library, and sheepishly apologize for the misunderstanding, and pay the no doubt EXORBITANT overdue fines? Or does she keep the DVD that the library has already believed to be lost, at no fault of my friend? Or, and this is what I'm thinking I should advise her to do, should she take the DVD to a different library than her usual, and hide it among the other DVDs until some diligent library worker notices it and assumes there has just been some kind of mistake?
My friend would really appreciate your advice on this matter. She told me so.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
i tried counting sheep but there's one i always miss
I just popped in to get my sleeping pills that I forgot to take until now (fat lot of good they will do me at this point) and noticed my dog is also awake at this late/early hour. I wish brains came with a sleep button like computers do.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
adventures in eye infections, part infinity
I exaggerate: it is actually only part three. But it FEELS like part infinity. Yesterday I looked in the mirror and stared into the eyes of ol' Crusty McBloodshot; instead of panicking because I looked like a zombie, my reaction was more like: "siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh." I've already dealt with this twice in a month, WHAT IS THE PROBLEM. I went to the eye doctor a week or so ago, and she did not foresee this, which I think she should have, considering how long I was there and how much it cost. Friends convinced me that it was only allergies, because in Round One my doctor told me it could be borne of allergies, but this morning my eyes were sealed shut and I knew I had to accept my fate and drive over to the stupid walk in clinic.
Neither the nurse nor the doctor even really inspected me. The nurse asked what I was in for, and I said, "I think I have eye infections," and she squinted at me and said, "Yes you do. The doctor is not in yet, but you'll be the first one she sees." Then the doctor came in and barely looked at me and told me I had eye infections and wrote me a prescription. (I didn't think I looked THAT bad, but apparently I was mistaken.) I asked her what was the cause of all this, and she said, "You've been to so many doctors and you don't know what the cause is? The cause is eye infection." I did not find that helpful. To be on the safe side, I bought all new hypo-allergenic eye make-up and threw away all my other miscellaneous eye make-up. That was a sad moment because make-up is really expensive and I blew all my money on furniture and an apartment.
Also, now I can TASTE my eye drops. Is that normal? Maybe instead of asking you I will call the pharmacy.
Neither the nurse nor the doctor even really inspected me. The nurse asked what I was in for, and I said, "I think I have eye infections," and she squinted at me and said, "Yes you do. The doctor is not in yet, but you'll be the first one she sees." Then the doctor came in and barely looked at me and told me I had eye infections and wrote me a prescription. (I didn't think I looked THAT bad, but apparently I was mistaken.) I asked her what was the cause of all this, and she said, "You've been to so many doctors and you don't know what the cause is? The cause is eye infection." I did not find that helpful. To be on the safe side, I bought all new hypo-allergenic eye make-up and threw away all my other miscellaneous eye make-up. That was a sad moment because make-up is really expensive and I blew all my money on furniture and an apartment.
Also, now I can TASTE my eye drops. Is that normal? Maybe instead of asking you I will call the pharmacy.
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