My Eighty-eighth Post

Life lesson for the day:

Pickles will have no effect what-so-ever on your eternal salvation. Make something else your priority. Like listening in class.

My Eight-seventh Post

When I was little, we lived in a very small house. Well, it never seemed all that small to me, but looking back, it definitely was. Especially considering the number of people that lived there. We basically had seven kids divided up between two bedrooms: the three boys in one, and the four girls in the other. There was an excess of stuff and shortage of space. Our bedroom floor was literally covered in a generous layer of toys and games at all times. Every once in a while we would have to clean our room and it was torture. I can’t believe how mean mothers can be.

Since cleaning is not intrinsically fun to children, we had to come up with ways to do it that would entertain us. The most common tactic involved the two older girls sitting on the top bunks “fishing” for toys and such. They would each have a makeshift fishing pole consisting of a sturdy stick, some sort of string, and an old ice cream bucket. They would lower their buckets, and my little sister and I would have to fill the bucket with the specific type of toy they requested (Barbies, crayons, Polly Pockets, etc.). You’d think this sorting ritual would have some sort of positive effect on the organization of our room. It really didn’t as all of the items they “caught” were pretty much just dumped into the toy box or into the lesser used side of the closet. (We probably would have utilized the space under our beds as well, but it was too valuable to during our fort-building efforts)

[Aside: I just remembered that in my childhood, I was very lazy, but rather resourceful. I would stay up late at night reading in my bed, but when I was ready to go to sleep, I was too comfortable to get up and turn off the light. So I fitted several long cardboard tubes together to form a collapsible “light-dousing” device that I kept by my bed. It was just long enough that if I stretched, I could just reach the light switch from the comfort of my bed. Brilliant.]

When the cleaning was done, we would proudly escort our mother into the room to show off our handiwork. As long as we had avoided putting laundry or dishes in the toy box, she would smile and declare our room officially “clean.”

Sometimes I feel like I’m still using the same tactic in my life today. My life is a complete mess; every once in a while, it gets to the point that I can’t stand it anymore. I find that if I just shove everything into the closet (I actually do do that, but I’m trying to be metaphorical here, not literal), I can live under the guise of having a perfect life—for at least a few weeks or so.

So maybe it’s not the best long-term strategy, but it sure is satisfying to look around and not see the mess every once in a while. Satisfying indeed.



Also, don’t add vanilla to homemade honey-butter. It’s just weird. It's not so much the taste as the smell that's weird, but still. Don't do it.

My Eighty-sixth Post

Two thoughts for the day, one of which is much happier than the other. I'm sure you can figure out which is which.

I was in the middle of saying something to somebody today when he turned around and started talking to somebody else. And it wasn’t just a brief interruption to quickly wave to a friend, or deliver important information. He left me just standing there with my mouth agape trying to decide whether to finish my sentence or not. So I left--just walked away. I don’t think he even noticed. Hmph.

~*~

There is a magical quality about doing something with a large group of people. Nobody knows everybody, but it doesn’t matter. You become great friends with everyone--just for a few hours, at least. And it’s a lovely feeling. I hope I have the opportunity to experience it more often.

My Eighty-fifth Post

Sometimes I pretend to be an authority on a subject that I really know nothing about. I know lots of little bits and pieces of information that, when combined with an authoritative tone, make people believe I know what I’m talking about.

I am really good at giving people answers. People often ask questions that they want an answer to, but they don’t really care what the answer actually is. I found that if I act like an expert on a subject, people will believe what I say. Armed with a few arbitrary facts about a subject, I can pretty much speak with such confidence that no one has any clue that I secretly have no idea.

One time I was chatting online with my friend Bonbon about Thomas Pynchon’s Crying of Lot 49. Now, I have never read this book, and all I know about the author is that his books are typically really dense and complex. So while she complained about how awful it was, I took a quick trip to Wikipedia where I discovered that it is basically about a huge conspiracy involving something about a muted horn. We then proceeded to have an entire conversation about the book. She was astounded later when I mentioned I had never actually read it.

Sometimes this gets me in trouble though. I recently borrowed Yann Martel’s Life of Pi from my sister. I haven’t had much time for reading, so I haven’t gotten around to it yet; it has just been sitting on the bookcase in my living room. The other day, Optimistic. picked it up and asked my opinion about it. Now, instead of admitting that I hadn’t read it, I pretended that I had. I said many incomprehensible things that really didn’t apply to the book at all, and I generally sounded like an idiot, which I was.

So maybe I shouldn’t be so authoritative all of the time. Maybe I should try to be meek and humble and have all of those other beatitudal attributes.

Yeah.

My Eighty-fourth Post

As you can see, I have added a Harry Potter countdown clock to my blog. This is because I like Harry Potter. Not the movies so much, but I get really into the books. When the sixth book came out, I sequestered myself in my room with a box of Wheat Thins and some Red Vines until I had finished reading it. I don't know what I will do this summer, as it is likely I will be in the middle of nowhere sleeping in a tent when book seven comes out. I may end up making a midnight drive with my sister to the closest Wal-Mart to buy it. And then we may stay up all night in the car reading aloud with the dome light on. And we may accidentally run the battery down so far that the car won't start the next morning. So we'll end up stranded in the wilderness for a few weeks. And we'll run out of food after a while, and we'll have to cast lots to decide who to eat first. But at least we'll know what happens to Harry in the end. And that’s the important part.

Also, I have decided that retirement makes absolutely no sense. I mean—you work hard your whole life, and then suddenly at the age of 60 you just… stop? And take up needlework or some such nonsense? Yech. No, thank you.

My Eighty-third Post

I am really happy right now.

I got to feel really productive and in control at work. And I made chocolate chip cookies that everyone enjoyed. And I walked barefoot in the park. And then I played on the swings.

I am content...

Even though I have to get up and go to work in just a few more hours. That's all the time I've got. Time to sleep.

[10 points to anyone who caught the musical reference in the above paragraph.]

My Eighty-second Post

krebscout: “Why is the Internet retarded?”
Me: “Umm… because Al Gore invented it?”

My Eighty-first Post

So I successfully switched out my hard drive with the one my dad sent me. Yay! And it only took me about an hour to figure out what the administrator password was so I could actually use “my” computer. It's definitely nice to have a computer around, but I've got to admit that a part of me is sad that it's back. I mean, I went an entire two weeks without the convenience of having a computer to satisfy my every whim. I had to think about song lyrics, instead of just looking them up. I had to plan my time better so I could print off a worksheet I needed for class. I couldn't check my email every twenty minutes. And as annoying as that was, it was also kind of nice.

Up until my freshman year of high school, I wasn't allowed to use the Internet at all—not even for school projects. My family didn't believe in it, as ridiculous as that sounds. Eventually they gave in, and just before my junior year of high school we finally got Internet access in our home. Getting the Internet represented a radical change in the way things were done. I'm sure we all remember having to look things up in the encyclopedia or getting books from the library about subjects we were interested. It was a process and a commitment to learning that I have only distant memories of. Now, if I come across an allusion to something I don't recognize, all it takes is a quick trip to Wikipedia: an instant source of knowledge with no commitment at all.

My elementary school used to have a contest each year with a set of questions that you had to use library resources to research and answer. The questions would be things like the inauguration date of some president, the phone number of a local business, or the ideal planting season for a certain plant. I remember one time I actually had to use a rhyming dictionary to answer one of these questions. I can guarantee that they no longer hold this contest, because the Internet has made it obsolete—every question could probably be answered with about half an hour in front of the computer. It's sad that today's kids will miss out on experiences like these.

So maybe I’m just nostalgic. Maybe I’m pining for the good ole days. I’m sure I’ll get over it. Especially when I realize I have two weeks’ worth of catching up to do on my favorite websites. Mmm... Toothpaste for Dinner.

My Eightieth Post

I haven't been blogging as much lately because of my computer woes. So instead of getting what probably would have been 4 separate entries, I will just give you the highlights in one hefty super-entry. Enjoy.

Box

There was this box, and I wanted it to take up less space. But it was made of really thick waxy cardboard, and I couldn't just rip it up or collapse it. So I decided to crush it by jumping on it. I set it down in front of me, and then I jumped on it. And then my entire body proceeded to tell me how stupid I was. See, the box didn't cooperate as well as I was expecting. Instead of staying put, it slid out from underneath my feet, and I fell back onto the very hard floor. Now I have a really awful headache and some rather unpleasant bruises. Stupid box. Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Hands

Cold hand contests are stupid. For those of you who are uninformed (as I was until recently), the basic idea is that you stick your hand out the window of a car, and it gets really cold, and then it gets really really cold, and whoever leaves their hand out the longest wins. You may ask: why would anyone do this stupid thing? The answer is that people are stupid. I was introduced to this "game" by Genuine last Saturday. But I must admit, Genuine beat me fair and square. Even if it is a stupid game.

Sleep

I slept forever yesterday. And by "forever," I mean I slept for 13 of the 24 hours that comprised the day. It was awful. A two hour nap is refreshing. A six hour "nap" is depressing. Especially since it totally messed up my sleep schedule and I woke up at 5am this morning for no reason at all. Yech.

Sausage

I made sausages last week. That's right: sausages. I started with ground pork, various spices, and intestinal casing (that's right: intestinal casing), and I ended up with sausage links. It was not a pleasant process, but I must admit that I'm glad I did it. Now whenever anyone brings up the mysterious process that is sausage making, I can proudly proclaim that I know first hand how sausages are made, because I've done it. I wish I had one of those 'life goals' lists, and I wish 'make sausages' was on it. Because then I could check it off. Bravo.

Also, you should all come to the Mafia Party that krebscout and I are throwing this Saturday. See here for details. It will be awesome.

My Seventy-ninth post

So, thanks to Yellow, I’ve just found out that the hard drive on my computer is pretty much dying/dead. This means I had to call my father last night. Here is a sample of how the conversation went:

Me: My laptop is dead.
Dad: I’ll take a look at it.
Me: No, Dad, it’s dead.
Dad: Mom can get it while she’s up there next month.
Me: Okay, but it’s still going to be dead.
Dad: I’ll take a look at it.

A little bit later…

Dad: Do you have a docking station up there with you?
Me: No Dad, I don’t really have the room for it.
Dad: Well, I’m sure you could find room.
Me: No, Dad. I don’t have room for one, and I don’t want one.
Dad: Well why didn’t you say that in the first place? Why don’t you want one?
Me: I just like my laptop, it’s much simpler.
Dad: I thought your laptop was dead.
Me: It is.
Dad: So why don’t you want a docking station?
Me: that doesn’t make sense. And I don’t want one because I don’t.
Dad: Okay, well, if you’re not going to be logical.
Me: Yes, Dad, I’m illogical.
Dad: What are you saying?
Me: You know what I’m saying. So what am I going to do about my computer?
Dad: Do you have an extra monitor up there with you?
Me: No, Dad, why would I have an extra monitor?
Dad: Well, I know we talked about getting you a docking station when you moved up there, so maybe you had a monitor to use with it.
Me: Yes, we talked about it and I said I didn’t want a docking station and that I didn’t have room for it. So why would I have an extra monitor lying around?
Dad: Well, it was just a question.

Anyway, I’m being a little facetious. My dad is really awesome--he’s sending me a different hard drive. It’s actually the hard drive out of my brother’s computer which is my laptop’s twin. Since the display doesn’t work on it, my brother can’t use it. (Well, actually, he can since he has a docking station, but he’s using a different computer now anyway.) Also, in case that doesn’t work, he’s also sending me a pretty old, low-tech laptop that he doesn’t use anymore. I suppose that will get me through the rest of the semester.

So I’m probably looking into getting a new laptop this summer. I am not at all excited about this prospect:

Spending lots of money + having no idea what I’m looking for = bad experience.

Anybody wanna help?