I have been thinking about writing this post for a couple of days, but now that I have actually started writing it--I am just giving you a heads up---I have to change direction from what I originally was going to say. You'll see why.
When I was in the sixth grade, I had a pen pal from New Zealand. I actually don't remember her name any more, but she stopped writing to me after September 11, 2001, and the service let us know that kids from abroad were afraid to receive letters from the New York kids. Nice.
So, anyways, we would exchange letters and little trinkets like stickers and bracelets and blah, blah, blah
I was going to write a nice post about pen pals, but I really want to get to the last point here.
So I remember this one letter where LAUREN! (her name just came back to me) wrote the most enchanted thing I ever:
For holiday, my family and I are going to Rainbow's End.
Initially, I planned to write a post about how wonderful New Zealand must be, how I have always wanted to visit, and how any country that contains "The Rainbow's End" must be heavenly. For these last 9 years, I have periodically thought about that line she wrote and wondered...what is this "Rainbow's End?" Until about ten minutes ago, I always pictured some sort of beautiful waterfall or a great green hill overlooking a pond. Before writing the post, I decided I would google it so I could find a picture to post at the bottom.
Well, here you go. Rainbow's End (enchanted, really):
http://www.rainbowsend.co.nz/
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
If you buy it, they will come
It is a cloudy Thursday, but I must say, everything feels rather fine. I'm drinking black coffee, prepping for a test that I might actually do okay on, and more importantly, tomorrow is Friday! My last post came across rather whiny. My mother has often liked to play with my head and remind me that my emotions are nothing more than the product of my hormone disturbances ("you are only this upset because of your hormones"..."you are only sensitive because of your hormones"...) so I had to run by some third parties the situations that have been bugging me to see whether or not I am valid in my frustration. While describing these situations, I realized that they actually sound even more ridiculous when I verbalize them. The winner?
I got in trouble at work for putting vegetables on the wrong side of the sandwich for over 45 minutes.
I feel validated, and everything seems okay now.
Enough about that crap.
So, as all five of you know, I have been on a fruitless quest to meet the man of my dreams (i.e. somebody who calls after the second date. So by "man of my dreams" I really just mean someone with a little tact and who is polite enough to wait until after the third date to push me away.) After Alana and I went bra shopping, through some fuzzy logic, we decided that if we have the sexy underwear already, the men will naturally follow. I am currently wearing a leopard print bra, so bring it on!
In an effort to bring about maturity, I have started wearing bras with under wires.
In an effort to get a better job, I'm thinking maybe I just need to buy some dress shirts. I wore a dress shirt to a disastrous job fair earlier this week, and although I made a fool out of myself, I looked rather professional while doing so.
So, I guess now I just wait for Shoeless Joe Jackson to show up....wait.
I got in trouble at work for putting vegetables on the wrong side of the sandwich for over 45 minutes.
I feel validated, and everything seems okay now.
Enough about that crap.
So, as all five of you know, I have been on a fruitless quest to meet the man of my dreams (i.e. somebody who calls after the second date. So by "man of my dreams" I really just mean someone with a little tact and who is polite enough to wait until after the third date to push me away.) After Alana and I went bra shopping, through some fuzzy logic, we decided that if we have the sexy underwear already, the men will naturally follow. I am currently wearing a leopard print bra, so bring it on!
In an effort to bring about maturity, I have started wearing bras with under wires.
In an effort to get a better job, I'm thinking maybe I just need to buy some dress shirts. I wore a dress shirt to a disastrous job fair earlier this week, and although I made a fool out of myself, I looked rather professional while doing so.
So, I guess now I just wait for Shoeless Joe Jackson to show up....wait.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Dear God, its me, Marge
I didn't make it to Mass this Ash Wednesday. I didn't eat meat, and I've "fasted" (that is, the Catholic version. Some cereal for breakfast and lunch, and a tomato sandwich for dinner), and I've reflected. I feel bad about the no ashes, but I know that we need them to remind us that to ash we shall return and whatnot, so I at least I'm on the same page with that.
I was going to write a semi-joking letter to God here, but instead I'll just summarize (and cut out the funny stuff.) I asked God to grant me patience. I feel like I have been tested quite a bit recently, and I need more patience (otherwise I am going to blow a gasket.)
I was going to write a semi-joking letter to God here, but instead I'll just summarize (and cut out the funny stuff.) I asked God to grant me patience. I feel like I have been tested quite a bit recently, and I need more patience (otherwise I am going to blow a gasket.)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday Night
Sometimes all I really want to do is drink myself into a stupor and then wake up a few days later, come to my senses, and realize that things aren't really that bad.
But then I remember that I'm not an alcoholic, nor am I an old man, nor am I a Vietnam vet, nor am I old enough to do that legally.
But then I remember that I'm not an alcoholic, nor am I an old man, nor am I a Vietnam vet, nor am I old enough to do that legally.
Monday morning
Last night was the Oscars. I love award shows. I had it on while I did my chem homework. Probably not the best idea, but oh well. I love the gowns, I love when I've seen the movies nominated, and I love that I've seen most of the movies featured in retrospectives. My three favorite things really are movies, TV, and music, as cliched as it sounds.
Right now I am trying to edit a train wreck of a paper. I'm writing about a book that I only read half of. And, for whatever reason, my mother decided she wanted to "help me" with it. She hasn't read one of my papers since junior year of high school, and she hasn't edited one of my papers since freshman year of high school (ironically, I got terrible grades on those papers.) I have no idea what inspired this sudden desire to read my academic papers. Even I find them boring, and I'm the one who wrote them.
Nothing interesting today, I'm afraid. There is a job fair tomorrow, so expect a post about resumes.
Right now I am trying to edit a train wreck of a paper. I'm writing about a book that I only read half of. And, for whatever reason, my mother decided she wanted to "help me" with it. She hasn't read one of my papers since junior year of high school, and she hasn't edited one of my papers since freshman year of high school (ironically, I got terrible grades on those papers.) I have no idea what inspired this sudden desire to read my academic papers. Even I find them boring, and I'm the one who wrote them.
Nothing interesting today, I'm afraid. There is a job fair tomorrow, so expect a post about resumes.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Who am I?
Ha, just kidding. I'm hoping at least one of you rolled your eyes and went "oh jeez" when you saw the title of this post.
So last night, as I attempted to do some homework, I found myself on the US census site. A professor was showing us all the fun things you can look up using it earlier this week, and out of some interest, but mostly boredom, I started to do searches on different towns.
I am from Bellerose, New York. The thing is, though, Bellerose doesn't really exist. I've known this for a while; maybe we live in a black hole? maybe there is some sort of twilight zone-esque explanation?
No. It once existed, but since has been eaten up by Jamaica, Queens along with Hollis and Queens Village. Bellerose Village still exists, as does Bellerose Terrace (neither of which are Queens, as evident through their astronomical taxes) but actual Bellerose, the part with the number streets and all the Indian restaurants, can't be found. I was determined to find statistics on Bellerose, though. I refused to accept Jamaica's statistics as my own. You do not "change in Bellerose," nor do you go to the "Bellerose Court House" when you get jury duty, nor do you have your "car radio stolen in Bellerose when I went for jury duty." Those are all Jamaica things.
So after doing an advanced search only using our zip code, the statistics for a nameless town appeared (literally, only the zip code graced the top of the page.) Some of the more interesting facts: 27.7% of our town has college degrees, which is higher than the national average, 38.6% of the town speaks a language other than English in their homes (a wee bit higher than the national average of 17.9%). The poverty level is half the national average, and the median family income is around $55,000. Bellerose doesn't sound half bad to me!
So last night, as I attempted to do some homework, I found myself on the US census site. A professor was showing us all the fun things you can look up using it earlier this week, and out of some interest, but mostly boredom, I started to do searches on different towns.
I am from Bellerose, New York. The thing is, though, Bellerose doesn't really exist. I've known this for a while; maybe we live in a black hole? maybe there is some sort of twilight zone-esque explanation?
No. It once existed, but since has been eaten up by Jamaica, Queens along with Hollis and Queens Village. Bellerose Village still exists, as does Bellerose Terrace (neither of which are Queens, as evident through their astronomical taxes) but actual Bellerose, the part with the number streets and all the Indian restaurants, can't be found. I was determined to find statistics on Bellerose, though. I refused to accept Jamaica's statistics as my own. You do not "change in Bellerose," nor do you go to the "Bellerose Court House" when you get jury duty, nor do you have your "car radio stolen in Bellerose when I went for jury duty." Those are all Jamaica things.
So after doing an advanced search only using our zip code, the statistics for a nameless town appeared (literally, only the zip code graced the top of the page.) Some of the more interesting facts: 27.7% of our town has college degrees, which is higher than the national average, 38.6% of the town speaks a language other than English in their homes (a wee bit higher than the national average of 17.9%). The poverty level is half the national average, and the median family income is around $55,000. Bellerose doesn't sound half bad to me!
Figure 1: This is the suburb of Bellerose. Taken this summer during monsoon season. See? The houses aren't attached. That's my neighbor's mini-van in our spot. Bastard.
EDIT: Sorry, this was riddled with so many spelling/grammatical errors my head nearly exploded. I hope none of you read it before I edited it. It still isn't great
Thursday, February 19, 2009
25 things about YOU
This is really mean, but don't judge me yet because you'll be laughing in about 3 min. For whatever reason, there has been a craze of posting "25 things about yourself." Now, I personally refuse to do it because I have a blog of 110 things you never cared to know about me in the first place; 25 more things would truly be overkill. Some of my close friends have written these, and they are pleasant to read, but for the most part, I haven't found out anything new.
Now I come to the part where I seem like a total creep, but again, check your judgements because I think you're going to like this. While my friends' 25 lists have been all good and nice, what I have REALLY enjoyed are reading the lists of people I barely know but happen to be facebook friends with. For the most part, these were loose acquaintances in high school. My friend Dan sent me a New York Times op. ed. about the 25 list craze, and in this piece the author included the best ones he had read.
This got me thinking. Some of these lists I was reading were pure comedic gold. So, I spent the last 20 minutes sifting through these, and I present to you a compilation of the best of the best. They are completely untouched; pristine in their gibberish and grammatical errors (Note: none of these come from my close friends aka the only people who read this. I didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, so don't get apprehensive-none of these are yours)
2. I really don't try and be a bitch. I'm just extremely honest, and sometimes that's misconstrued.
3. i smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, similar to your 90 year old grandmother.
3. I am OBSESSED with Britney Spears- so much so that I should probably see a shrink about it.
3. My favorite TV show ever is KYLE XY. I own all the seasons on Dvd, and have seen almost every single episode several times. I kind of obsessed. I consider it the best tv show ever created. I almost cried when I found out it is set to be cancelled after the cliffhanger third season finale on March 16. SAVE THE TUB ( www.savekylexy.com )
4. i blame all my piercings, tattoos, and my jet black hair on finally being free from 13 years of strict catholic school.
4. I own approximately 75 pairs of shoes.
7. I make up a million different terms and words all the time. like "what the mof." and "what's good" I love hearing people say my phrases that i made up.
9. I really really really think lamb is delicious... even if they're fluffy and adorable. Maybe even BECAUSE they're fluffy and adorable - I tend to have predatory instincts regarding tasty looking creatures that are smaller than me.
9. I did have two other parakeets, but they both died in strange ways, Pete flew away when my dad changed the cage outside to help me, and Kyle (named after my favorite tv show of course) died in his food bowl. :(
10. I bit a boy on the arm until he bled in Pre-K.
10. sculpting my facial hair is a hobby of mine
13) I believe in a Great Something, and Something wants people to chill out and love each other.
13. I usually don't have a problem with people unless they bother me or are just plain out haters... i hate HATERZ
15. When I was 5-6 years old, I shoved a peanut in each nostril so far up my nose that I had to get them surgically removed.
16. People call me superficial, I just have really high goals.
17) REMOVED--ask me about it, though, and I'll send it to you directly.
18. I am addicted to tanning (even though I don't get tan, but at least I try) and bleaching (both my teeth and hair)- it relieves my stress!
21. I've never understood why some men think being called "pretty" is an insult... what do you want, "manly mcbeefsteakman?" Some guys just aren't Chuck Norris, but that doesn't mean they aren't attractive. Idiots. Take the compliment. I don't give them to many people.
21. When I see a four digit number, I think of ways to put mathematical symbols in between and around them to make the total equal zero. I don't do it on purpose, it just kind of happens.
23. I believe in ghosts, and love, and fate, and espically karma and cosmic forces.. all that good shit.. yet I can't hold on to the idea of god. As far as I'm concerned I am god.
24. I watch Sex and the City and Real Housewives of Orange County to motivate me, as bad as that sounds.
25. Between June 2007 and the present, I’ve learned to love myself like never before and it is the Sweetest. Thing. Ever.
Now I come to the part where I seem like a total creep, but again, check your judgements because I think you're going to like this. While my friends' 25 lists have been all good and nice, what I have REALLY enjoyed are reading the lists of people I barely know but happen to be facebook friends with. For the most part, these were loose acquaintances in high school. My friend Dan sent me a New York Times op. ed. about the 25 list craze, and in this piece the author included the best ones he had read.
This got me thinking. Some of these lists I was reading were pure comedic gold. So, I spent the last 20 minutes sifting through these, and I present to you a compilation of the best of the best. They are completely untouched; pristine in their gibberish and grammatical errors (Note: none of these come from my close friends aka the only people who read this. I didn't want to hurt anybody's feelings, so don't get apprehensive-none of these are yours)
2. I really don't try and be a bitch. I'm just extremely honest, and sometimes that's misconstrued.
3. i smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, similar to your 90 year old grandmother.
3. I am OBSESSED with Britney Spears- so much so that I should probably see a shrink about it.
3. My favorite TV show ever is KYLE XY. I own all the seasons on Dvd, and have seen almost every single episode several times. I kind of obsessed. I consider it the best tv show ever created. I almost cried when I found out it is set to be cancelled after the cliffhanger third season finale on March 16. SAVE THE TUB ( www.savekylexy.com )
4. i blame all my piercings, tattoos, and my jet black hair on finally being free from 13 years of strict catholic school.
4. I own approximately 75 pairs of shoes.
7. I make up a million different terms and words all the time. like "what the mof." and "what's good" I love hearing people say my phrases that i made up.
9. I really really really think lamb is delicious... even if they're fluffy and adorable. Maybe even BECAUSE they're fluffy and adorable - I tend to have predatory instincts regarding tasty looking creatures that are smaller than me.
9. I did have two other parakeets, but they both died in strange ways, Pete flew away when my dad changed the cage outside to help me, and Kyle (named after my favorite tv show of course) died in his food bowl. :(
10. I bit a boy on the arm until he bled in Pre-K.
10. sculpting my facial hair is a hobby of mine
13) I believe in a Great Something, and Something wants people to chill out and love each other.
13. I usually don't have a problem with people unless they bother me or are just plain out haters... i hate HATERZ
15. When I was 5-6 years old, I shoved a peanut in each nostril so far up my nose that I had to get them surgically removed.
16. People call me superficial, I just have really high goals.
17) REMOVED--ask me about it, though, and I'll send it to you directly.
18. I am addicted to tanning (even though I don't get tan, but at least I try) and bleaching (both my teeth and hair)- it relieves my stress!
21. I've never understood why some men think being called "pretty" is an insult... what do you want, "manly mcbeefsteakman?" Some guys just aren't Chuck Norris, but that doesn't mean they aren't attractive. Idiots. Take the compliment. I don't give them to many people.
21. When I see a four digit number, I think of ways to put mathematical symbols in between and around them to make the total equal zero. I don't do it on purpose, it just kind of happens.
23. I believe in ghosts, and love, and fate, and espically karma and cosmic forces.. all that good shit.. yet I can't hold on to the idea of god. As far as I'm concerned I am god.
24. I watch Sex and the City and Real Housewives of Orange County to motivate me, as bad as that sounds.
25. Between June 2007 and the present, I’ve learned to love myself like never before and it is the Sweetest. Thing. Ever.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Oh's.
This morning, I woke up and realized that I had actually slept with a box of cereal in my bed.
It was only a matter of time.
It was only a matter of time.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tomorrow May Rain So I'll Follow the Sun
Easier title than the usual obscure garbage I use, but nevertheless, points to you if you know who sang that lyric.
Figure 1: Snoopy's brother, Spike. He is from the desert, possibly a little slow, and apparently takes a cactus on his travels.
Figure 2: Mickey Mouse, smiling because he has a dirty, dirty secret. Or, because we are freezing in Boston while he is living it up in sunny Orlando, and he is taking pleasure in our misfortune. Son of a bitch.
The sun is shining, there isn't a cloud in the sky, and it isn't terribly freezing (it is a balmy 28.) I should be happy with this, but of course, I am not satisfied (why can't I just be happy with what I am given? It would make things easier.) I want it to be warm enough that I can walk outside in a T-shirt and jeans without freezing to death.
I really do belong in a warmer climate. I want to live in a place where my toes never turn purple from the cold and my lips chap from a sunburn, not the cold, dry air.
Following the sun seems to have worked out well for these guys:
Figure 1: Snoopy's brother, Spike. He is from the desert, possibly a little slow, and apparently takes a cactus on his travels. Figure 2: Mickey Mouse, smiling because he has a dirty, dirty secret. Or, because we are freezing in Boston while he is living it up in sunny Orlando, and he is taking pleasure in our misfortune. Son of a bitch. Sunday, February 15, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Stinky
I entered my room, only to notice a funky smell. I started to sniff around, when I realized that the smell was coming from my closet. There was a bag of garbage in my closet from two nights ago. The garbage itself is about a week old, containing banana peels, remnants of subway sandwiches, and empty coffee cups. I didn't realize Alana's family was coming to the room Thursday evening, and in a rush to make myself not look a total pig, I threw the garbage bag that I had been resting at my feet into my closet behind a basket of dirty laundry.
It smells so bad in here right now because I still haven't taken the garbage bag out.
Happy Valentine's day!
It smells so bad in here right now because I still haven't taken the garbage bag out.
Happy Valentine's day!
Friday, February 13, 2009
2!
I have two different things I want to say about the number 2 (not talking about poop, no worries) but I'm not really sure how to tie the ideas together.
So we are reading about OCD in psych right now. I'm quite familiar with it, as 5 members of my family have it, 6 if you include me. It contributed a great deal to my difficulties with learning to drive, but other than that I have it under control, so it's not really something worth discussing.
Well, I have the obsessing part under control. The "C" part is what still gets me sometimes. It's nothing that interferes with my life, but if you have ever lived with me, you probably already know one of my little compulsions.
I have a special relationship with the number 2. I woke up all four years of high school at 6:02am (although, my clock was ten minutes fast, so it was actually 5:52,) and this morning I awoke at 8:02. I warmed my coffee for 2min, 42 seconds this morning, and if it weren't hot enough, I would have had to pop it in for 22 more seconds. 4s and 8s are okay, too, but I don't like them nearly as much as 2's. 6s are occasionally okay if they must be. The numbers 1 and 9 bother me quite a bit. I'm neutral about 3s and 7s (although, when my roommate set the microwave to 3min, 3 seconds the other day, I felt quite uncomfortable...she could have just set it to 3min, 2 sec and I'm sure the water temperature would have been much better.)
So now that I have shown you just how crazy I am, I figured it is time to move on to the next topic. Two really great things happened this week. Not like "Oh I got an A and a promotion and a new boyfriend" kind of great (meaning, I'm not about to brag about how great my life is going [it is the usual mess]; these aren't the kind of things that are going to make you feel bad about your own life.)
I know I didn't discuss this much while it was happening. I talk quite a bit, and I like to consider myself an open book, but I have difficulties talking about serious things. I am actually struggling right now to finish writing this and oddly enough, I can feel tears welling up. Last summer, my dad was diagnosed with cancer (Thank God, they caught it relatively early.) Yesterday was a great day because my dad finally finished treatment. I have more to say, but I don't really know how to put my feelings into words.
And something else happened, too, in my family that is pretty great. It's weird, but it gives me hope. It has to do with my nephew, which some of you probably already know is a sticky topic. Maybe we can talk about it in real life.
They say that everything happens in 3s, and even though it is so cheesy to say that it hurts a little, it would be pretty appropriate if my good things happen in 2s.
I was originally going to write about how all the flower boxes in the mail room made me angry, but I went for a personal post instead of a funny one. Posts to look forward to: Resumes; dying hair with koolaid.
So we are reading about OCD in psych right now. I'm quite familiar with it, as 5 members of my family have it, 6 if you include me. It contributed a great deal to my difficulties with learning to drive, but other than that I have it under control, so it's not really something worth discussing.
Well, I have the obsessing part under control. The "C" part is what still gets me sometimes. It's nothing that interferes with my life, but if you have ever lived with me, you probably already know one of my little compulsions.
I have a special relationship with the number 2. I woke up all four years of high school at 6:02am (although, my clock was ten minutes fast, so it was actually 5:52,) and this morning I awoke at 8:02. I warmed my coffee for 2min, 42 seconds this morning, and if it weren't hot enough, I would have had to pop it in for 22 more seconds. 4s and 8s are okay, too, but I don't like them nearly as much as 2's. 6s are occasionally okay if they must be. The numbers 1 and 9 bother me quite a bit. I'm neutral about 3s and 7s (although, when my roommate set the microwave to 3min, 3 seconds the other day, I felt quite uncomfortable...she could have just set it to 3min, 2 sec and I'm sure the water temperature would have been much better.)
So now that I have shown you just how crazy I am, I figured it is time to move on to the next topic. Two really great things happened this week. Not like "Oh I got an A and a promotion and a new boyfriend" kind of great (meaning, I'm not about to brag about how great my life is going [it is the usual mess]; these aren't the kind of things that are going to make you feel bad about your own life.)
I know I didn't discuss this much while it was happening. I talk quite a bit, and I like to consider myself an open book, but I have difficulties talking about serious things. I am actually struggling right now to finish writing this and oddly enough, I can feel tears welling up. Last summer, my dad was diagnosed with cancer (Thank God, they caught it relatively early.) Yesterday was a great day because my dad finally finished treatment. I have more to say, but I don't really know how to put my feelings into words.
And something else happened, too, in my family that is pretty great. It's weird, but it gives me hope. It has to do with my nephew, which some of you probably already know is a sticky topic. Maybe we can talk about it in real life.
They say that everything happens in 3s, and even though it is so cheesy to say that it hurts a little, it would be pretty appropriate if my good things happen in 2s.
I was originally going to write about how all the flower boxes in the mail room made me angry, but I went for a personal post instead of a funny one. Posts to look forward to: Resumes; dying hair with koolaid.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I've done bad things for money
I sit here, sweaty and tired from my shift at Subway. Like formerly homeless people who wish that they still lived on the streets when they get stressed (its true, I swear,) it is times like these that I wish I could just do odd jobs for cash like I did last year. No taxes, excellent pay, weird hours.
A few in particular come to mind...working for the professor who often didn't wear pants, the sleep study where I did mazes on a computer, the one where a voice with a British accent screamed commands for a computer test, etc. etc.
There is one story that I thought was worth sharing. I participated in a "Disturbing Images" study during finals first semester finals in 2007. I was exhausted after studying the whole day for Chemistry. After an hour of psychological profiling, I sat for the images part. Some were "disturbing," while others were supposed to be "pleasant" and I was asked to rate them on a scale from causing "extreme discomfort" to causing "extreme pleasure." A picture of a tiger...a picture of a tiger eating another animal...a bloody hand...a knife...a hot air balloon...a shark...a peaceful lake
As I sat in the recliner I could feel the heat of the room getting to me. My eyes started to droop. I started responding to each image as "neutral." I heard a voice come over my headphones (I was also hooked up to an EEG, which must have told the guy that his patient was nearly passed out. Sometimes I still wonder why my mother didn't approve of these studies) and the man running the study asked me if I was feeling okay. I responded that I was fine. I decided that I needed to have a strong reaction to the next picture, no matter what it was. I hoped it would be of something really disturbing, like a car crash, so the man would start getting the results he wanted. The picture came up, and I instantly responded that it gave me EXTREME pleasure. The picture looked something like this:
Figure 1: EXTREMELY PLEASANT BASKET
Whoops.
A few in particular come to mind...working for the professor who often didn't wear pants, the sleep study where I did mazes on a computer, the one where a voice with a British accent screamed commands for a computer test, etc. etc.
There is one story that I thought was worth sharing. I participated in a "Disturbing Images" study during finals first semester finals in 2007. I was exhausted after studying the whole day for Chemistry. After an hour of psychological profiling, I sat for the images part. Some were "disturbing," while others were supposed to be "pleasant" and I was asked to rate them on a scale from causing "extreme discomfort" to causing "extreme pleasure." A picture of a tiger...a picture of a tiger eating another animal...a bloody hand...a knife...a hot air balloon...a shark...a peaceful lake
As I sat in the recliner I could feel the heat of the room getting to me. My eyes started to droop. I started responding to each image as "neutral." I heard a voice come over my headphones (I was also hooked up to an EEG, which must have told the guy that his patient was nearly passed out. Sometimes I still wonder why my mother didn't approve of these studies) and the man running the study asked me if I was feeling okay. I responded that I was fine. I decided that I needed to have a strong reaction to the next picture, no matter what it was. I hoped it would be of something really disturbing, like a car crash, so the man would start getting the results he wanted. The picture came up, and I instantly responded that it gave me EXTREME pleasure. The picture looked something like this:
Figure 1: EXTREMELY PLEASANT BASKET
Whoops.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Because you know you love it when I offer advice
The last time I offered you a pearl of wisdom, I advised you to put a pair of underwear over your wet hair.
This time, I offer you dating advice. My roommate has an internship, and she helped to create a "date planner" (http://datenight.springpadit.com/). She asked me if I would make a post about dating, and I agreed. Why not, right? I love giving advice, even when nobody wants it.
So lets see. Dating...dating...I haven't been on a date in about two months, but I'm pretty sure that things haven't changed that much since December 2008.
Err....don't put out until the third date.
After some consideration, I realized that this probably is not enough to get my blog into the date planner.
About 5 minutes has gone by and I am coming up blank.
Okay. This is from a very recent experience--
Guys and girls, do not text somebody you have just started to date at an odd hour. Think to yourself: "Would it be okay to call somebody at this hour?" If the answer is no, then a text isn't okay, either. I recently got a text at 7AM from a guy, and although the text said nothing significant, getting a message that early threw me for a loop. So, if you want to make contact late at night with a new guy or girl, wait until the morning. And once the morning comes, wait until early afternoon.
EDIT: Upon further consideration, my roommate said that this is not exactly what they are looking for in said "date planner." She said it's more along the lines of how to have a good date, what not to do on a date, etc.
SO! From the vault of experience, flat-chested ladies, I offer you this true gem:
Padded bras may make your sweaters fit nicer, but if there is any chance that your new guy is coming back with you to your room, just wear a normal bra. Otherwise, he is going to get a handful of Wonderbra and nothing else. That confused look on his face sure does ruin the moment!
That's all I've got. To the couples out there: I hope you have a Happy Valentine's Day! And to the single people like myself: I hope you don't have too bad of a hangover on Sunday!
This time, I offer you dating advice. My roommate has an internship, and she helped to create a "date planner" (http://datenight.springpadit.com/). She asked me if I would make a post about dating, and I agreed. Why not, right? I love giving advice, even when nobody wants it.
So lets see. Dating...dating...I haven't been on a date in about two months, but I'm pretty sure that things haven't changed that much since December 2008.
Err....don't put out until the third date.
After some consideration, I realized that this probably is not enough to get my blog into the date planner.
About 5 minutes has gone by and I am coming up blank.
Okay. This is from a very recent experience--
Guys and girls, do not text somebody you have just started to date at an odd hour. Think to yourself: "Would it be okay to call somebody at this hour?" If the answer is no, then a text isn't okay, either. I recently got a text at 7AM from a guy, and although the text said nothing significant, getting a message that early threw me for a loop. So, if you want to make contact late at night with a new guy or girl, wait until the morning. And once the morning comes, wait until early afternoon.
EDIT: Upon further consideration, my roommate said that this is not exactly what they are looking for in said "date planner." She said it's more along the lines of how to have a good date, what not to do on a date, etc.
SO! From the vault of experience, flat-chested ladies, I offer you this true gem:
Padded bras may make your sweaters fit nicer, but if there is any chance that your new guy is coming back with you to your room, just wear a normal bra. Otherwise, he is going to get a handful of Wonderbra and nothing else. That confused look on his face sure does ruin the moment!
That's all I've got. To the couples out there: I hope you have a Happy Valentine's Day! And to the single people like myself: I hope you don't have too bad of a hangover on Sunday!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Lent dilemma
Ash Wednesday is two weeks from this Wednesday, marking 40 days until Easter. For those 40 days, Catholics are supposed abstain from something they love or perform some sort of service they wouldn't normally.
Every year since I can remember, I've just given up soda and called it a day. I plan on doing that again this year, but I also want to give up something that would really be a sacrifice for me. Giving up soda is more or less a health thing that I should abstain from anyways...so I've narrowed it down to two contenders for what else I plan on giving up:
Chocolate or booze.
I love both so very much. While I ingest alcohol significantly less frequently than chocolate, I think I enjoy alcohol a little bit more (eek).
Chocolate: includes putting cocoa in my coffee, dessert in the dining hall, cookies at work
Alcohol: Arty and Edyna's birthday, spring break (St. Patrick's day would be an exception...I don't have that much self control)
I need input on this one.
Every year since I can remember, I've just given up soda and called it a day. I plan on doing that again this year, but I also want to give up something that would really be a sacrifice for me. Giving up soda is more or less a health thing that I should abstain from anyways...so I've narrowed it down to two contenders for what else I plan on giving up:
Chocolate or booze.
I love both so very much. While I ingest alcohol significantly less frequently than chocolate, I think I enjoy alcohol a little bit more (eek).
Chocolate: includes putting cocoa in my coffee, dessert in the dining hall, cookies at work
Alcohol: Arty and Edyna's birthday, spring break (St. Patrick's day would be an exception...I don't have that much self control)
I need input on this one.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
611 good-byes
I had 611 songs on my computer through Ruckus. These songs were both free and perfectly legal.
Sounds too good to be true?
Yup. Because it was too good to be true. Last night I faced the shock a "final notice" from Ruckus. The service had been turned off. I don't know if BU just stopped paying or if the entire company went under, but whatever the reason, I just lost 611 songs. I do not know if this makes it better or worse, but I didn't lose the songs in one go. Instead, they will fade slowly over the next few weeks until nothing is left.
I realize that Mac users never had this privilege to begin with, and are probably laughing at their fellow PC users-- "Ha. Ha. See, now you can't have it either!"
First off, as Damien Rice sang in one of his sad little Irish songs, "you feel it when they take it away." And second, it's always mean to take pleasure in other people's discomfort (i.e. don't laugh because you're entire hard drive will probably crash as a result.)
So, I'll work to gain back my music in the most legal, but cheap, way possible. In the mean time, goodbye Tupac. Goodbye City High, The Fugees, Timbaland, R.Kelly, Jay-Z, Nelly, Coolio. Goodbye Dvorak, Yo Yo Ma, Duke Ellington, Vince Guraldi. Goodbye Elliot Smith, Citizen Cope, Muse, REM, David Gray and your earlier albums, Wilco and Dispatch. Goodbye all the other garbage I just had because it was free. And goodbye, dear U2. We will meet again.
Sounds too good to be true?
Yup. Because it was too good to be true. Last night I faced the shock a "final notice" from Ruckus. The service had been turned off. I don't know if BU just stopped paying or if the entire company went under, but whatever the reason, I just lost 611 songs. I do not know if this makes it better or worse, but I didn't lose the songs in one go. Instead, they will fade slowly over the next few weeks until nothing is left.
I realize that Mac users never had this privilege to begin with, and are probably laughing at their fellow PC users-- "Ha. Ha. See, now you can't have it either!"
First off, as Damien Rice sang in one of his sad little Irish songs, "you feel it when they take it away." And second, it's always mean to take pleasure in other people's discomfort (i.e. don't laugh because you're entire hard drive will probably crash as a result.)
So, I'll work to gain back my music in the most legal, but cheap, way possible. In the mean time, goodbye Tupac. Goodbye City High, The Fugees, Timbaland, R.Kelly, Jay-Z, Nelly, Coolio. Goodbye Dvorak, Yo Yo Ma, Duke Ellington, Vince Guraldi. Goodbye Elliot Smith, Citizen Cope, Muse, REM, David Gray and your earlier albums, Wilco and Dispatch. Goodbye all the other garbage I just had because it was free. And goodbye, dear U2. We will meet again.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Because It's All Downhill from Here: 9 min
9 min until I have to leave for class.
I have had two different topics swirling through my brain today. I was trying to think of how to connect them in a blog post, but I have come up with no connection and I am in a rush now to present both. Instead, I will jumble them into a completely incoherent post.
8 min.
When my cousin Ryan turned 10, my cousin Eric, who was 12, wrote in his birthday card: "It's all downhill from here."
During high school orientation, Mr. Doran told a parable. The long story short: There was an oak tree and a reed. A hurricane hit. Although the oak tree prided itself on being strong, the hurricane took it down with its forceful winds. The reed, on the other hand, was strong but willing to move with the wind and it survived the hurricane. I was utterly horrified. I was unaware that this was my first exposure to four more years of parable telling, in which oak trees and reeds would engage in dialogues and other seemingly inanimate objects would die in freak accidents thus to prove to dumb high school students even dumber points.
5 min.
When Eric graduated high school, my brother David wrote in his graduation card: "It's all downhill from here."
Senior year, Fr. Albert told the story of the frog and the pot of water. If you try to place a frog into a pot of boiling water, it jumps out. If you place a frog in cool water and boil it slowly, it boils to death. Moral: Don't become complacent. Ultimate effect: four years later and I was still horrified by Kellenberg's lesson teaching methods.
3 min.
When I graduated eighth grade, my brother Michael wrote in my graduation card: "Wow, you shocked us all and graduated!"
I sit here with a birthday card for my nephew. He will turn 3 next week. I considered writing "It's all downhill from here." I think I'll wait another year.
Done with 2 min to spare.
I have had two different topics swirling through my brain today. I was trying to think of how to connect them in a blog post, but I have come up with no connection and I am in a rush now to present both. Instead, I will jumble them into a completely incoherent post.
8 min.
When my cousin Ryan turned 10, my cousin Eric, who was 12, wrote in his birthday card: "It's all downhill from here."
During high school orientation, Mr. Doran told a parable. The long story short: There was an oak tree and a reed. A hurricane hit. Although the oak tree prided itself on being strong, the hurricane took it down with its forceful winds. The reed, on the other hand, was strong but willing to move with the wind and it survived the hurricane. I was utterly horrified. I was unaware that this was my first exposure to four more years of parable telling, in which oak trees and reeds would engage in dialogues and other seemingly inanimate objects would die in freak accidents thus to prove to dumb high school students even dumber points.
5 min.
When Eric graduated high school, my brother David wrote in his graduation card: "It's all downhill from here."
Senior year, Fr. Albert told the story of the frog and the pot of water. If you try to place a frog into a pot of boiling water, it jumps out. If you place a frog in cool water and boil it slowly, it boils to death. Moral: Don't become complacent. Ultimate effect: four years later and I was still horrified by Kellenberg's lesson teaching methods.
3 min.
When I graduated eighth grade, my brother Michael wrote in my graduation card: "Wow, you shocked us all and graduated!"
I sit here with a birthday card for my nephew. He will turn 3 next week. I considered writing "It's all downhill from here." I think I'll wait another year.
Done with 2 min to spare.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Done Deal
I have written previously about the songs I associate with different times of my life. Ignition with 8th grade, the whole X&Y album with sophomore year of HS, etc.
Well, last night I heard a certain song that I realize I already tie with first semester of Sophomore year of college.
the winner is:
Lil' Wayne, Mrs. Officer.
Thanks, Catie. Thanks.
Well, last night I heard a certain song that I realize I already tie with first semester of Sophomore year of college.
the winner is:
Lil' Wayne, Mrs. Officer.
Thanks, Catie. Thanks.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Why don't you just drink poison?
As always, bonus points if you know where the title of my blog post comes from.
I recently tried to detox my liver with vegetable juice. I read about the merits of vegetable juice in one of my mom's magazines, and hell, if you present to me anything as a "good idea," I'll try it.
If you know me, then you could have predicted that this plan failed with the crack of the seal on my first bottle of V8. I previously warned you against clove cigarettes because they are bad for you; I now present to you a more real and stern warning: IF YOU DON'T WANT TO VOMIT IN PUBLIC, DON'T DRINK V8. I'm not talking about the fruity ones, I'm talking about the straight up tomato-onion-celery-bile mix packaged as "original."
I recently tried to detox my liver with vegetable juice. I read about the merits of vegetable juice in one of my mom's magazines, and hell, if you present to me anything as a "good idea," I'll try it.
If you know me, then you could have predicted that this plan failed with the crack of the seal on my first bottle of V8. I previously warned you against clove cigarettes because they are bad for you; I now present to you a more real and stern warning: IF YOU DON'T WANT TO VOMIT IN PUBLIC, DON'T DRINK V8. I'm not talking about the fruity ones, I'm talking about the straight up tomato-onion-celery-bile mix packaged as "original."
Figure 1: Just say "NO!"
The vegetable juice idea made me realize that if I really wanted to "detox" my liver, it would make more sense to stop drinking. And if I wanted to really be a healthy lady:
-I should never smoke anything ever again (I'm working on that one; I really don't want a fatty heart like in the commercial. I almost never smoke, anyways. Nevertheless, I won't completely swear it off until I have tried Al Capones...)
-I should actually excerise more than twice a month
-I should stop eating thai food that is made in a basement next to a dry cleaners. (And I should stop convincing my friends to join me)
-I should stop standing in front of the microwave to see if I can tell the exact moment when the food looks like its getting hot
I should stop doing those things, but I probably won't. I'm getting Nud Pob tomorrow night!
P.S. Spell check is broken right now; this is the best I could do on my own.
P.S.S. I enabled comments from all users, so you don't need a blog to comment (sorry about that Kelly, I have no idea how I disabled that option previously)
Sunday, February 1, 2009
This is why I don't generally give beauty advice...
...because this is the best I have to offer.
Yes, this piece of advice comes from the 1930s, and yes, you might be too embarrassed to actually do this, but damnit, it works.
Last night I had an awesome evening with Edyna and Lauren, eating Popeye's and smoking cloves. Despite all the fun, when I got back to my room, I smelled pretty nasty. I had a decision: shower at 1:30AM and sleep on a wet head, or go to bed and then wash my sheets the following morning.
I got out of the shower at 2, too exhausted to dry my hair. And then I remembered a certain piece of wisdom passed down from my grandmother to my mother to me!
So, you don't want to wake up with tangled hair and an ice cold pillow?
Brush out your hair, braid it, and pull a clean pair of underwear onto your head, tucking the braid in. You'll wake up with (almost) dry, untangled hair and a fairly dry pillow.
For real.
EDIT: A conversation with Catie just brought to my attention that I need to clarify this: by "smoking cloves" I do NOT mean smoking weed; cloves are an entirely legal type of cigarette. Though delicious, I don't recommend them, as they are entirely poisonous.
Yes, this piece of advice comes from the 1930s, and yes, you might be too embarrassed to actually do this, but damnit, it works.
Last night I had an awesome evening with Edyna and Lauren, eating Popeye's and smoking cloves. Despite all the fun, when I got back to my room, I smelled pretty nasty. I had a decision: shower at 1:30AM and sleep on a wet head, or go to bed and then wash my sheets the following morning.
I got out of the shower at 2, too exhausted to dry my hair. And then I remembered a certain piece of wisdom passed down from my grandmother to my mother to me!
So, you don't want to wake up with tangled hair and an ice cold pillow?
Brush out your hair, braid it, and pull a clean pair of underwear onto your head, tucking the braid in. You'll wake up with (almost) dry, untangled hair and a fairly dry pillow.
For real.
EDIT: A conversation with Catie just brought to my attention that I need to clarify this: by "smoking cloves" I do NOT mean smoking weed; cloves are an entirely legal type of cigarette. Though delicious, I don't recommend them, as they are entirely poisonous.
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