Super cool

January 28, 2008

So, I am sitting in my bed, under an electric blankie, hoodie tied over my head, trying to adjust my attitude about this snow day. You might be thinking, “Yay for you. A day off of work!” I am thinking, “My little neighbor lady/grandma/pinochle player/dessert bringer Rose went to pinochle today. So, if 73-year-old Rose can brave the elements, why can’t we (1)?” The root of this issue for me is that I really just don’t want to make up the day later on, during President’s weekend or this Wednesday when I was planning on working in my classroom (2).

Anyway, I stumbled across this today. It is super cool, I am pretty sure. You type in your favorite artist or song, and then a whole radio station comes up and plays music of similar taste. Way cool. Way free. Way awesome.

Happy day to you!

XO, me


(1) The elements are less than an inch of melty snow, and wet (not frozen) pavement. I know, I know. It is just different here.

(2) I start teaching again this Thursday!


Ms. Austen

January 25, 2008

This video (if I have not already made you watch it) is so great.  Austen purists might hate it, but I love it anyway.

She had nothing to do but to forgive herself and be happier than ever.   Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way.   Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Good night.
XO, me 


January 19, 2008

This song makes me happy (1).

XO, me

(1) This song makes me want to have a twirly poncho and dance around the living room.   When I dance around by myself, I am sure it is something like the little girl in this video.  Am I the only one that dances around when I am by myself?

Giant step

January 15, 2008

Today I took a giant step in my life.  Before I explain why this is, I should give a little background.  You may or may not know that I am not exactly what you call an animal person.  In theory, being a pet owner sounds like a good idea.  Dogs can be cute and good companions and possibly a little fun sometimes.  It is not that I think that they are gross or ugly or ridden with disease.  It is just that I don’t really care to touch them, or play with them, or let them sit on me.  I try, kind of.  I am just a little nervous around them, and that nervousness is only magnified when they want to be in my personal space.  I think that might be the root of this issue.  They can be a little unpredictable, and I like to be in charge of the space around me (1).

With that being said, I think I turned a new leaf today.  Nice Neighbors across the street asked me to feed and let their dogs out while they went to the mountain for the night.  Well, I couldn’t actually respond to that request with, “Well, I would love to, and of course I will be around, but actually I am deathly afraid of being around animals alone, and I don’t exactly like to touch them, and I don’t really know how to appropriately interact with them.  Oh, and what do I do if they jump on me or bite me when they have no idea why I am entering into your house without you there?”  That would be a little rude, right?  So my response was more like, “Oh, sure.  Not a problem.  Just let me know what to do.”  Well, last night I was fully prepared with notes in hand, and I talked my roommate into going over with me because if I was one of those dogs I would freak out if strangers entered my place in the dark of the night.  That, and I am afraid of being alone around animals.  So, I was at the door, jiggling it to unlock, and holy crap!  Enter crazy dog, all barking and growly!  I cowered back because I am not really in any condition to get bitten by this dog and his scary, gnashing teeth, and I totally let my roommate take charge.  My really nice roommate that probably doesn’t understand my fear let the dogs out and back in, and I scooted out very sneaking so that crazy dog wouldn’t decide that he might still want a bite of me.

Now, I knew that I was responsible for these pups and needed to let them out the next morning.  And, I would have to do that by myself.  I was so nervous.  My dreams were filled with misbehaving dogs and googly-eyed cats, and I tossed and turned through the night, each time waking up thinking, “You have to deal with those dogs tomorrow ALONE.”  Well, I woke up at 7:24 and put on my same clothes from the evening before (so they would recognize my smell from yesterday, of course.)  Well, guess who channeled her inner Cesar Millan?  Pretty much me.  I got to the door, and the dogs were all barking again.  I held out my hand (with a mitten on for protection, of course) and said, “NO!” as sternly as I could.  Guess what happened to growly, crazy dog?  He totally laid down on the ground.  From that moment on we were friends.  I let them out, and accidentally let the cats in (2).  I even pet them for a few seconds (the dogs, not the cats), without my mitten.  So friends, I just might have turned a new leaf.  Maybe one time I will become an animal person.  Maybe.

XO, me

(1)    Just ask my dachshund-owning friends about the time that Frank (the mini dachshund) jumped on me when I was stuck in bed.  Or the time that I couldn’t/refused/was freaked by the idea of picking up Beanie (the even mini-er dachshund).  Or the numerous times where I talk to those darling dogs and tell them they can be my friend from ‘over there.’

(2)    I will never pick up a cat.  Not going to happen.  And, I am allergic.  Really.


January 9, 2008

One time there was this guy named Beroy D. Bartley*, and he was not a good person.  He was a selfish person, an out-of-control person, a bad person.  One day, he decided to get his car out of an impound lot and steal some license plates and drive without insurance.  He decided to drink too much and smoke some pot and drive his car kind of crazy.  He decided to go so fast down a hill while a little red car was driving through the intersection at the bottom of it.  He decided to go so fast that the little red car got super smashed into a pole and a nice girl’s pelvis got really smashed and her rib got pretty smashed and her tooth got a little smashed.  He decided to go so fast that the little red car’s windshield would break and the glass would go into the girl’s face and arms and legs.  He decided to go so fast that she would have to go in an ambulance where her clothes would get ruined and her nose sparkle would be taken away and her favorite flip flops would disappear.  He decided to go so fast that she would spend seven days in the hospital and would be in a ridiculous amount of pain and would have lots of doctors and nurses poke and prod her.  He decided to go so fast that her parents flew in to town for an un-vacation and her mom stayed for a month to take care of her and her friends brought flowers and treats and tried to make her laugh.  He decided to go so fast that she spent six weeks in bed and had to give herself shots in the belly and couldn’t shave her legs.  He decided to go so fast that every move made her body wretch with pain and made her cry and not feel like herself.  He decided to go so fast that she had to spend lots of money on pillows and medicine and grandma toilets to make life semi-comfortable.  He decided to go so fast that she couldn’t teach her students and had to withdraw from classes that would make her smarter and a better teacher.  He decided to go so fast that it is almost four months later, and she has lost 15 pounds and her clothes don’t fit and now she feels strange in her body.  He decided to go so fast that she still isn’t normal and is tired of it all.

He drove so fast, but now she knows how lucky she is to have an amazing family and dear friends that will love her even when she is hysterical and drug-induced and grouchy and teary and a mess.  He drove so fast, but now she knows that if she can get through this, she can get through anything. He drove so fast, but she is thankful for the small pocket of safety she was in that night.  He drove so fast, but now she knows that you can be doing everything right, and the unimaginable can still happen.  He drove so fast, but now she knows she will be ok.

*She knows that is not his name.  She also thinks that he has a dirty blonde mullet.

Thank you to those of you that have been so great to me.  I can’t thank you enough. Mwah!

XO, me

Flight of the Conchords

January 6, 2008

Flight of the Conchords: pretty much New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk parody duo. I heart them and their funny stuff. I will let Jemaine and Bret do the talking, but you should also watch the live version of Business Time. I love it, although it is a little racy (1).

Oh and P.S. Back in New Zealand, they invented rap.

XO, me

(1) That is what my grandma says about red underwear and when things are a little scandalous. This is also the same grandma that told me that I shouldn’t drink my pop with a little cocktail straw because it might make me gassy.

Goodnight, dear void.

January 3, 2008

“Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, not small, but valuable. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void.”

–Kathleen Kelly, You’ve Got Mail

XO, me

Airline weirdo-stalkers

January 1, 2008

I am on an airplane, sitting in my seat, buckling my belt. I smile at the person next to me, and then avoid eye contact by occupying myself with the SkyMall catalogue so the door for conversation remains obviously closed. I wish/hope/pray that the person next to me has the same outlook as myself in that they too want the next few hours to be peaceful and chatter-free. I wait for the flight attendant to announce that we can turn on our portable electronic devices with the exception of TVs and two-way radio transmitters, and I shove my iPod earbuds in and crank William Fitzsimmons.

I don’t know why I do this. I mean, I am always courteous and nice to the person sitting next to me. I avoid eye contact just enough to make it clear that I don’t want to chat it up for the 3.25 hour flight because there are lots of minutes in that time. That is with the exception of the time I was seated next to Cute Airline Pilot (1). That is one seat partner that I chatted with for the entire duration of my flight. We even completed the crossword puzzle together. Swoon.

Anyway, I don’t know if it is it that small talk can be strange and hard work and only worth it when you are at parties or might possibly come into contact with the person you’re talking to again. Or is it that I am afraid that the person is going to be a weirdo-stalker and somehow hunt me down and be creepy (2)? Or is it that I am ridiculously selfish and want those 3.25 hours to be devoted to me, my thoughts, and my random mix of music?

I don’t know. What I do know is that people usually have pretty good stories and occasionally have interesting things to say. The world is small and I might be sitting next to someone that owns a children’s bookstore or has traveled to Italy or has seen Jack Johnson play in Hawaii. And, people are generally not weirdo-stalkers and can probably possibly teach me something. Maybe what this means is that I need to restore my outward curiosity about others. Or, maybe this means that most people are just like me and want to quietly sit for 3.25 hours and have the time be their own.

XO, me

(1) After flexing my amazing Google muscles (I pretty much have a Black Belt in Google.), I found out that Cute Airline Pilot has a girlfriend who is a mere fetus. Unswoon.

(2) Do you think a person with a Black Belt in Google is a weirdo-stalker? …nah.