Hey, folks. I realized that other day that I neglected to post that I had a few more interviews! Or maybe just one more; did I tell you guys that I had an interview at Kansas State? Anyway, I have one coming up at KSU at the beginning of January and then another at Western U in California at the end of January. Hopefully I feel better about these afterward than I did about my interview at ISU...
So... um... YouTube!
12.27.2010
12.21.2010
It is ALWAYS your fault.
Some people are wonderful around the holidays. They are cheerful, nice to others, and generally act like decent human beings.
Others are not.
Two Saturdays ago was a particularly fun time at Borders. It was an incredibly busy time of the day and I was the only one working. There were about five people in line, and I was trying to check people out as well as help someone on the phone.
The woman on the phone was pissed because she was trying to order things on borders.com and was having issues. The issues were caused by some updates that corporate was doing on the website (don't ask me what; I am a lowly peon). The problem was that she had an online coupon for 33% off that expired the next day and she wanted to use it NOW. She had called the customer service hotline and they had told her that they weren't sure when the website would be functional again.
So she called a very small temporary store to complain.
Does this seem insane to anyone else?
After I had checked out the second-to-last person I tried to finish up with the angry woman on the phone only to be interrupted by the last woman in line. Since the first words out of her mouth were, "Isn't anyone going to help me?" I could tell that this was going to be really fun.
I will spare you the gory details and sum up what her problem was. She had ordered some books "a month ago" (a week in reality; I checked the date) and was angry that they weren't in yet. Unfortunately she had placed her order when corporate was once again screwing with the website so it didn't complete and the order was never officially placed. Over the course of trying to help her, said angry customer called me a "stupid kid," told me that she didn't have time to wait because she had Huntington's and did I know what Huntington's is (I said "yes" which probably didn't help matters anyway but I was getting annoyed myself), and accused me of ruining her and her family's Thanksgiving/Christmas/holidays/existence in general.
I finally called the guy who was on break to come in and help me with her. She calmed down, and we promised to order the books for her when the website was back up; we would call her and get her credit card information over the phone, and everything would be settled.
Wrong.
So the phone number she gave us was wrong; when dialed, all you get is an "out of service" message. She didn't provide an email address, and was having the books shipped to the store so we can't send her a letter (which is ridiculous anyway). I do not want to be in the store when she comes back in. And if I am, I'm calling security because I was a little afraid that she was going to hit me last time.
Other fun situations are people blaming me for an order getting lost, a book not being in stock or being sold out, and an order not getting delivered in time for Christmas, all of which are things that are completely beyond my control and most certainly not my fault.
After the fact, I've come up with some replies to the above situations:
"Actually, I have that book in the back, but it's part of my personal stock. Maybe if you had been a bit more pleasant, but nooooooo. I'm certainly not going to do you any favors now."
"You mean that was your package? Well, dang. I paid the delivery guy to toss it out the window on the highway because I was pretty sure that a mob dummy company had sent it. They have a hit out on me, you know." (To be said while looking around furtively)
"You're ordering a book now and want it in time for Christmas? Not a problem. Let me just assemble my magical flying warthogs with this conch shell and they'll have it to you in a jiffy."
"We had it in stock, but I deliberately sold the last one a few minutes ago because I knew that you were coming in for it and really wanted to shit all over your day."
And my personal favorite:
"Order the damn books at home, bitch."
Moral of the story: be nice to cashiers and people working in stores lest you get a snarky blog post written about you.
Others are not.
Two Saturdays ago was a particularly fun time at Borders. It was an incredibly busy time of the day and I was the only one working. There were about five people in line, and I was trying to check people out as well as help someone on the phone.
The woman on the phone was pissed because she was trying to order things on borders.com and was having issues. The issues were caused by some updates that corporate was doing on the website (don't ask me what; I am a lowly peon). The problem was that she had an online coupon for 33% off that expired the next day and she wanted to use it NOW. She had called the customer service hotline and they had told her that they weren't sure when the website would be functional again.
So she called a very small temporary store to complain.
Does this seem insane to anyone else?
After I had checked out the second-to-last person I tried to finish up with the angry woman on the phone only to be interrupted by the last woman in line. Since the first words out of her mouth were, "Isn't anyone going to help me?" I could tell that this was going to be really fun.
I will spare you the gory details and sum up what her problem was. She had ordered some books "a month ago" (a week in reality; I checked the date) and was angry that they weren't in yet. Unfortunately she had placed her order when corporate was once again screwing with the website so it didn't complete and the order was never officially placed. Over the course of trying to help her, said angry customer called me a "stupid kid," told me that she didn't have time to wait because she had Huntington's and did I know what Huntington's is (I said "yes" which probably didn't help matters anyway but I was getting annoyed myself), and accused me of ruining her and her family's Thanksgiving/Christmas/holidays/existence in general.
I finally called the guy who was on break to come in and help me with her. She calmed down, and we promised to order the books for her when the website was back up; we would call her and get her credit card information over the phone, and everything would be settled.
Wrong.
So the phone number she gave us was wrong; when dialed, all you get is an "out of service" message. She didn't provide an email address, and was having the books shipped to the store so we can't send her a letter (which is ridiculous anyway). I do not want to be in the store when she comes back in. And if I am, I'm calling security because I was a little afraid that she was going to hit me last time.
Other fun situations are people blaming me for an order getting lost, a book not being in stock or being sold out, and an order not getting delivered in time for Christmas, all of which are things that are completely beyond my control and most certainly not my fault.
After the fact, I've come up with some replies to the above situations:
"Actually, I have that book in the back, but it's part of my personal stock. Maybe if you had been a bit more pleasant, but nooooooo. I'm certainly not going to do you any favors now."
"You mean that was your package? Well, dang. I paid the delivery guy to toss it out the window on the highway because I was pretty sure that a mob dummy company had sent it. They have a hit out on me, you know." (To be said while looking around furtively)
"You're ordering a book now and want it in time for Christmas? Not a problem. Let me just assemble my magical flying warthogs with this conch shell and they'll have it to you in a jiffy."
"We had it in stock, but I deliberately sold the last one a few minutes ago because I knew that you were coming in for it and really wanted to shit all over your day."
And my personal favorite:
"Order the damn books at home, bitch."
Moral of the story: be nice to cashiers and people working in stores lest you get a snarky blog post written about you.
12.20.2010
Winter cometh to Wisconsin. Also Christmas spirit.
I've been thinking about how to format this post for a while (yes, I do actually think about these things) which is why this post is happening about a week after the event. I've decided to title it...
1. They plan cookie baking parties and up the ante by making it a boozy ugly-Christmas-sweater cookie baking party.
2. And they wear the aprons that you bring along.
3. As well as some other ones the hostess has lying around...
... while flying a toy helicopter.
4. When you decide that you want some calories that are not A) derived from baked goods or B) from alcohol and order Jimmy Johns, they put together a bag of cookies for the delivery guy and serenade him in ugly sweaters, then hint that the cookies may or may not be poisoned (*cough Jenna cough*).
5. They watch children's Christmas specials with you and agree with comments like "Santa's an asshole."
6. Bailey's and hot chocolate. And vino. Thanks friends.
7. They know what the FSM is and don't laugh at you for making a FSM cookie. (I was touched by his noodly appendage...)
8. They join in the nerdiness by making a "God of Cake" tribute cookie. Which totally doesn't look anything like the picture.
9. They make eating a cookie a punishment for being the drunkest at the end of the "Elf" drinking game. Not because it was felt that there should be a punishment, but because we really wanted to see someone's mouth after they ate the vampire cookie.
Seriously though, that was some really intense color on that bad boy.
7. They help you dig out your car at 7 AM after having 12+ inches of snowfall...
8. ...laugh at you when your snowball totally backfires...
8. ... and tackle you into the snow for the hell of it.
Credit for all pictures goes to Libby because I neglected to charge my camera battery.
Reasons Why My Friends Are Awesome:
A Tale Told in Pictures
(except where there weren't any for that bullet point...
just read the damn blog post)
1. They plan cookie baking parties and up the ante by making it a boozy ugly-Christmas-sweater cookie baking party.
2. And they wear the aprons that you bring along.
3. As well as some other ones the hostess has lying around...
... while flying a toy helicopter.
4. When you decide that you want some calories that are not A) derived from baked goods or B) from alcohol and order Jimmy Johns, they put together a bag of cookies for the delivery guy and serenade him in ugly sweaters, then hint that the cookies may or may not be poisoned (*cough Jenna cough*).
5. They watch children's Christmas specials with you and agree with comments like "Santa's an asshole."
6. Bailey's and hot chocolate. And vino. Thanks friends.
7. They know what the FSM is and don't laugh at you for making a FSM cookie. (I was touched by his noodly appendage...)
8. They join in the nerdiness by making a "God of Cake" tribute cookie. Which totally doesn't look anything like the picture.
Cookie.
Real drawing.
Cookie.
Real drawing.
9. They make eating a cookie a punishment for being the drunkest at the end of the "Elf" drinking game. Not because it was felt that there should be a punishment, but because we really wanted to see someone's mouth after they ate the vampire cookie.
Seriously though, that was some really intense color on that bad boy.
7. They help you dig out your car at 7 AM after having 12+ inches of snowfall...
8. ...laugh at you when your snowball totally backfires...
8. ... and tackle you into the snow for the hell of it.
Good job, everybody. Shenanigans complete; that's a wrap.
Credit for all pictures goes to Libby because I neglected to charge my camera battery.
12.16.2010
A Short Blog Post of Jubilation
I took my algebra final today, and gave my final speech. I'm done with mindless classes with immature freshmen! Hurrah!
How am I celebrating? Well, I've danced around my kitchen to "The Dog Days are Over" by Florence + the Machine a few times, and I have obtained a tub of cookie dough and a mug of coffee with a smidge of Bailey's.
Excellent.
How am I celebrating? Well, I've danced around my kitchen to "The Dog Days are Over" by Florence + the Machine a few times, and I have obtained a tub of cookie dough and a mug of coffee with a smidge of Bailey's.
Excellent.
11.18.2010
Holy crap, it's a post about vet school.
I have an interview! Two, actually: one at KSU and one at ISU.
I'm on my way!
And that makes Rusted Root pop into my head.
I'm on my way!
And that makes Rusted Root pop into my head.
11.11.2010
I have a black thumb for computers.
I think I may have destroyed my parents' home computer. I was watching an episode of Glee online (I am so ashamed) earlier today. I touched the computer, which apparently set off some klaxon somewhere in the bowels of the computer tower: WARNING WARNING SELF-DESTRUCT IMMINENT. Tiny computer lemmings grabbed their children and most prized possessions and fled for the hills.
First the monitor froze. There was sound, but the screen was frozen on an awkward in-the-middle-of-singing-and-overemoting face. All of my frantic mouse-jiggling and key-tapping produced no change in the picture on the screen. I tried doing the control-alt-delete thingy to no avail. Since it was time for me to go to work, the only thing I could do was turn it off and come back to it later.
After several hours, I walked back in the door to find my dad sitting in front of the computer. It would no longer turn on, and none of the "F" keys were doing doodly. There was some swearing and googling of terms, but nothing seemed to work. I spent an hour and a half on the phone with Dell tech support; the final conclusion is that the computer has to be totally reset. That means that all of the files on the computer will be wiped out and all software that was installed after setup will be gone. Not so good when your mom has important things like endocrinology talks, her CV, and photos from her recent trip to Peru on there. So tomorrow I will be taking the computer tower to Best Buy and paying a ridiculous amount of money to have them recover all of the files on the hard drive. I've been assured that its not my fault and that they were thinking about replacing the computer soon anyway. Well, even if it isn't, I still feel like it is, and I'm a responsible person, dammit. It's probably a good thing that I'm scheduled for a ridiculous amount of hours next week.
And this is not my first victim. I killed a Dell laptop a few years ago; I still have no idea what I did, but a chunk of the operating system mysteriously vanished. I blame Vista because I think it's awful, but when I'm being honest with myself I know that I most likely had a hand in that crash.
Strong Bad understands my computer woes, though mine are admittedly less amusing:
In other news, I retain my amazing ability to attract awkward, nerdy guys. Not the cute, endearing awkward type of nerd, the creepy nerd who collects your hair and chewed bubblegum and builds a shrine to you in his closet.
The latest is one of the guys who works in the book store with me. He stares at me awkwardly, and pays me compliments like, "you look cool today," and "your hair looks cool." One: not interested. Two: get a thesaurus.
First the monitor froze. There was sound, but the screen was frozen on an awkward in-the-middle-of-singing-and-overemoting face. All of my frantic mouse-jiggling and key-tapping produced no change in the picture on the screen. I tried doing the control-alt-delete thingy to no avail. Since it was time for me to go to work, the only thing I could do was turn it off and come back to it later.
After several hours, I walked back in the door to find my dad sitting in front of the computer. It would no longer turn on, and none of the "F" keys were doing doodly. There was some swearing and googling of terms, but nothing seemed to work. I spent an hour and a half on the phone with Dell tech support; the final conclusion is that the computer has to be totally reset. That means that all of the files on the computer will be wiped out and all software that was installed after setup will be gone. Not so good when your mom has important things like endocrinology talks, her CV, and photos from her recent trip to Peru on there. So tomorrow I will be taking the computer tower to Best Buy and paying a ridiculous amount of money to have them recover all of the files on the hard drive. I've been assured that its not my fault and that they were thinking about replacing the computer soon anyway. Well, even if it isn't, I still feel like it is, and I'm a responsible person, dammit. It's probably a good thing that I'm scheduled for a ridiculous amount of hours next week.
And this is not my first victim. I killed a Dell laptop a few years ago; I still have no idea what I did, but a chunk of the operating system mysteriously vanished. I blame Vista because I think it's awful, but when I'm being honest with myself I know that I most likely had a hand in that crash.
Strong Bad understands my computer woes, though mine are admittedly less amusing:
In other news, I retain my amazing ability to attract awkward, nerdy guys. Not the cute, endearing awkward type of nerd, the creepy nerd who collects your hair and chewed bubblegum and builds a shrine to you in his closet.
The latest is one of the guys who works in the book store with me. He stares at me awkwardly, and pays me compliments like, "you look cool today," and "your hair looks cool." One: not interested. Two: get a thesaurus.
11.04.2010
What's next, a Vespa?
Last night, I purchased a guitar. Do I know how to play it? Nope. Am I signed up for lessons? Negatory. Am I an idiot for thinking that I can teach myself? Probably. I'm trying to figure out what brought on this sudden impulse to learn how to play the guitar. I think it may be a combination of boredom and a mid-twenties crisis (what am I doing with my life/I'm almost a quarter of a century old). Yep.
I'm pretty sure that the guy at the Island Music thought that I was a total flake. I went in there with no idea what I was doing or what I was looking for. This is how I started off at the store, with nonsensical words inserted where he used guitar terms that meant absolutely nothing to me:
Me: "Hi. I'm here to look at some guitars."
Guitar Guy: "Well, are you looking for a wizzgig or a framdoodle? Or are you more into something with a wooden jigamafrump? We've sold quite a few of those lately."
Me: "..."
At this point he realized that I had no clue what he was talking about, pulled some instruments off the wall, and explained some of the basics.
Then he started to warm up to his topic:
Guitar Guy: "This one is great because the bumbersmack is wood and that gives you a great sound."
Me: (sounding interested) "Uh huh."
Guitar Guy: "But there is something to be said about this style of frackenwap. Easy for a beginner to handle."
Me: (starting to resemble a donut: glazed *ba-dump ching*) "Yeah."
Guitar Guy: "And THIS one is amazing because of its woogly zamboni in a wamplum bleep fritter..."
At this point I think I may have been drooling a little bit out of the corner of my mouth.
I ended up picking up a nice, mellow-sounding guitar that I liked the look of (Guitar Guy approved, so it must have been okay). I can pick out a chromatic scale and four chords. The ultimate goal for now is to learn how to play "Space Oddity" 'cause that song is awesome.
I'm pretty sure that the guy at the Island Music thought that I was a total flake. I went in there with no idea what I was doing or what I was looking for. This is how I started off at the store, with nonsensical words inserted where he used guitar terms that meant absolutely nothing to me:
Me: "Hi. I'm here to look at some guitars."
Guitar Guy: "Well, are you looking for a wizzgig or a framdoodle? Or are you more into something with a wooden jigamafrump? We've sold quite a few of those lately."
Me: "..."
At this point he realized that I had no clue what he was talking about, pulled some instruments off the wall, and explained some of the basics.
Then he started to warm up to his topic:
Guitar Guy: "This one is great because the bumbersmack is wood and that gives you a great sound."
Me: (sounding interested) "Uh huh."
Guitar Guy: "But there is something to be said about this style of frackenwap. Easy for a beginner to handle."
Me: (starting to resemble a donut: glazed *ba-dump ching*) "Yeah."
Guitar Guy: "And THIS one is amazing because of its woogly zamboni in a wamplum bleep fritter..."
At this point I think I may have been drooling a little bit out of the corner of my mouth.
I ended up picking up a nice, mellow-sounding guitar that I liked the look of (Guitar Guy approved, so it must have been okay). I can pick out a chromatic scale and four chords. The ultimate goal for now is to learn how to play "Space Oddity" 'cause that song is awesome.
10.26.2010
The CM tells it like it is.
I was re-introduced to this picture on Hyperbole and a Half:
In other news, the download of "The Lost Mind of Dr. Brain" failed, but I found a download for the Dr. Quandary game instead. The picture is pixelated and incredibly shitty (my eyes almost hurt when I switched back to the regular desktop screen because of the sharpness) and for some reason there's no music, but I played it until I beat it anyway. I also found a download for "Lemmings," but I think that one is so old that there's no hope of it actually working on my computer ever.
Going back to Muppets, has everyone seen this?
Edit: While pointedly NOT working on a self-evaluation paper for speech, I ran across an online version of Lemmings. Success!
Once again, it made me laugh so hard that people around me looked at me like they doubted my sanity. But seriously, I agree with Cookie Monster. Parents seem determined to wrap their kids in cotton these days. Working for an after school program, I caught myself the other day thinking about the appropriateness of "Hangman." The I gave myself a mental kick in the butt; of course it is. Every kid should know how to play Hangman.
Does it seem odd to anyone else that we let kids play a game where a metaphorical person's life hangs in the balance? I was playing with some of my third graders the other day, and I'm fairly certain the little shits were purposely guessing the wrong letters because they thought it was funny. How hard is it to guess "CANDY" for pete's sake?
I have a sudden mental flash of the Coliseum with a bunch of grade schoolers in the stands, all pointing their thumbs down.
In other news, the download of "The Lost Mind of Dr. Brain" failed, but I found a download for the Dr. Quandary game instead. The picture is pixelated and incredibly shitty (my eyes almost hurt when I switched back to the regular desktop screen because of the sharpness) and for some reason there's no music, but I played it until I beat it anyway. I also found a download for "Lemmings," but I think that one is so old that there's no hope of it actually working on my computer ever.
Going back to Muppets, has everyone seen this?
Edit: While pointedly NOT working on a self-evaluation paper for speech, I ran across an online version of Lemmings. Success!
10.24.2010
Nostalgia: it's what's for breakfast.
I was in Ashwaubenon this morning officiating for a swim meet. It was towards the end of the meet; I was sitting at the end of the pool (probably not paying as much attention as I should have, but it was the 500 free; sue me) when I heard a certain melody.
Ever been sitting somewhere and heard a snippet of song that took you back? Well, one of the parents sitting behind me had Chopin's Mazurka as her ring tone. This did not whisk me away to a dark concert hall, or to a piano lesson, or even to my dorm room as I listen to my Chopin Pandora station. Nope. Instead, I was reminded of one of the most awesome computer games I had the privilege of playing as a kid: The Lost Mind of Dr. Brain.
I have very fond memories of this game. The premise is that you are trying to piece together the mind of the great scientist, Dr. Brain, after a failed experiment. Why anyone would want to switch their mind with a rat (even one named Rathbone) is beyond me, but it made a pretty kick-ass game. There were memory puzzles, music puzzles, spatial problems, and a sort-of cross between a Rubik's cube and Boggle. I attribute my knowledge of the periodic table abbreviations to the Pentode.
I've been wallowing a lot in childish things lately. Maybe "wallowing" is a poor word choice. It's really more like "reveling." And by "childish things" I don't mean tantrums and Barbies, which I never actually played with as a kid. I mean kid's books, puzzles, cartoons. You know, all the awesome stuff we remember from when we were young. Getting my hands on children's books is a snap, thanks to Borders. Every time I close during a weekday, the last few hours is painfully boring. So, instead of doing something useful with my time, I've been grabbing a book off of the shelf, plonking myself down behind the register, and reading.
Books read so far:
How to Train Your Dragon Book 3: How to Speak Dragonese
Mr. Popper's Penguins
A Series of Unfortunate Events books 2 & 3
Some other Lemony Snicket book involving a talking latke
A Wind in the Door
Occasionally I peek around the corner or above the counter to see if anyone has come into the store. There has not been thus far, which is a good thing since I probably look like a complete weirdo trying to play peek-a-boo with customers. On the other hand, it would give someone a really entertaining story.
P.S. There's a series of YouTube videos of some guy playing through the entire "Lost Mind of Dr. Brain" computer game. I shit you not. The guy narrating tries to make upping the difficulty level a feat of badassery. Hilarious.
Ever been sitting somewhere and heard a snippet of song that took you back? Well, one of the parents sitting behind me had Chopin's Mazurka as her ring tone. This did not whisk me away to a dark concert hall, or to a piano lesson, or even to my dorm room as I listen to my Chopin Pandora station. Nope. Instead, I was reminded of one of the most awesome computer games I had the privilege of playing as a kid: The Lost Mind of Dr. Brain.
I have very fond memories of this game. The premise is that you are trying to piece together the mind of the great scientist, Dr. Brain, after a failed experiment. Why anyone would want to switch their mind with a rat (even one named Rathbone) is beyond me, but it made a pretty kick-ass game. There were memory puzzles, music puzzles, spatial problems, and a sort-of cross between a Rubik's cube and Boggle. I attribute my knowledge of the periodic table abbreviations to the Pentode.
I've been wallowing a lot in childish things lately. Maybe "wallowing" is a poor word choice. It's really more like "reveling." And by "childish things" I don't mean tantrums and Barbies, which I never actually played with as a kid. I mean kid's books, puzzles, cartoons. You know, all the awesome stuff we remember from when we were young. Getting my hands on children's books is a snap, thanks to Borders. Every time I close during a weekday, the last few hours is painfully boring. So, instead of doing something useful with my time, I've been grabbing a book off of the shelf, plonking myself down behind the register, and reading.
Books read so far:
How to Train Your Dragon Book 3: How to Speak Dragonese
Mr. Popper's Penguins
A Series of Unfortunate Events books 2 & 3
Some other Lemony Snicket book involving a talking latke
A Wind in the Door
Occasionally I peek around the corner or above the counter to see if anyone has come into the store. There has not been thus far, which is a good thing since I probably look like a complete weirdo trying to play peek-a-boo with customers. On the other hand, it would give someone a really entertaining story.
P.S. There's a series of YouTube videos of some guy playing through the entire "Lost Mind of Dr. Brain" computer game. I shit you not. The guy narrating tries to make upping the difficulty level a feat of badassery. Hilarious.
10.12.2010
Things that make you feel like a doofus.
1. Pushing or pulling inappropriately when using a door.
This also includes pushing on the hinge side of the door. And why the hell do they put knobs on doors that you have to push to get through? I think building planners do it on purpose just so they have something to snicker about.
2. Thinking of something funny when you're walking by yourself and smiling or laughing to yourself.
This inevitably happens when you are around a lot of people. I don't mean walking-down-the-street busy, I mean sitting-in-a-bus-stop-when-it's-negative-one-bajillion-degrees-outside-so-everyone-is-crammed-together busy. And once I start thinking of something funny, I can't stop. Thank god for texting; I usually resort to whipping out my phone and pretending I'm having an amusing text convo with a witty friend.
Aaaand.... music!
I downloaded Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear from Amazon the other day. I like and recommend!
Also something that makes me feel silly: trying to say "Veckatimest." I can never remember what the album title actually is so end up saying something like "vicikaticest," which sounds like a villain off of SWAT Kats or some type of insect incest. If there is such a thing.
This also includes pushing on the hinge side of the door. And why the hell do they put knobs on doors that you have to push to get through? I think building planners do it on purpose just so they have something to snicker about.
2. Thinking of something funny when you're walking by yourself and smiling or laughing to yourself.
This inevitably happens when you are around a lot of people. I don't mean walking-down-the-street busy, I mean sitting-in-a-bus-stop-when-it's-negative-one-bajillion-degrees-outside-so-everyone-is-crammed-together busy. And once I start thinking of something funny, I can't stop. Thank god for texting; I usually resort to whipping out my phone and pretending I'm having an amusing text convo with a witty friend.
Aaaand.... music!
I downloaded Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear from Amazon the other day. I like and recommend!
Also something that makes me feel silly: trying to say "Veckatimest." I can never remember what the album title actually is so end up saying something like "vicikaticest," which sounds like a villain off of SWAT Kats or some type of insect incest. If there is such a thing.
10.11.2010
A post in which Katy whines.
Morose is a good word. I think it's a pretty good description of my mood lately. I don't really know what is causing my morose-ness (Morosity? Morosivity?). And I seem to fluctuate between feeling fine and feeling not quite happy.
Maybe I'm lonely. That's stupid, since I have wonderful friends in the area, but it's possible.
The other possible reason is that, once again, I've forgotten how to say "no." I'm doing a lot of stuff right now, including volunteer work with a few animal rescue/adoption organizations, taking classes, and working two jobs. And I don't really want to give any of it up, for various reasons.
I actually LIKE working in the book store; I like books, and I like it when people ask me for a suggestion. The other day I sold a copy of A Wrinkle in Time to a woman who was buying the Pretty Little Liars series for her niece. Now I know that that little girl has at least one good book for Christmas! My other job hasn't really started yet, but I'll be running "Centers" for an after school program in Menasha. From my understanding I'll be running "fun" learning activities. I'm feeling alternately capable and overwhelmed when it comes to this job; I don't have any set protocols or activities since the guy who ran this last year sucked royally. I think the "overwhelmed" is contributing a lot to my current blue funk. I know that I can ask anyone in the program for assistance, but I've always been self-reliant and I hate asking for help. Stupid but true.
The volunteering should probably be the first thing I cut down on, but I would feel like a terrible person for doing it. I've also convinced myself that it will help me get into vet school, even though I've already sent in my applications.
I'm finding classes at UWO... frustrating. That's all I'm going to say on THAT matter.
I'm probably spreading myself too thin. But I've always done too many things at once so doing less makes me feel restless. Right now I just don't feel quite satisfied, and I'm probably trying to keep myself busy to cover it up.
Sorry for everyone who was looking for an amusing post; I'm feeling lame today. I'm going to go make some banana bread now. That always makes life better.
Maybe I'm lonely. That's stupid, since I have wonderful friends in the area, but it's possible.
The other possible reason is that, once again, I've forgotten how to say "no." I'm doing a lot of stuff right now, including volunteer work with a few animal rescue/adoption organizations, taking classes, and working two jobs. And I don't really want to give any of it up, for various reasons.
I actually LIKE working in the book store; I like books, and I like it when people ask me for a suggestion. The other day I sold a copy of A Wrinkle in Time to a woman who was buying the Pretty Little Liars series for her niece. Now I know that that little girl has at least one good book for Christmas! My other job hasn't really started yet, but I'll be running "Centers" for an after school program in Menasha. From my understanding I'll be running "fun" learning activities. I'm feeling alternately capable and overwhelmed when it comes to this job; I don't have any set protocols or activities since the guy who ran this last year sucked royally. I think the "overwhelmed" is contributing a lot to my current blue funk. I know that I can ask anyone in the program for assistance, but I've always been self-reliant and I hate asking for help. Stupid but true.
The volunteering should probably be the first thing I cut down on, but I would feel like a terrible person for doing it. I've also convinced myself that it will help me get into vet school, even though I've already sent in my applications.
I'm finding classes at UWO... frustrating. That's all I'm going to say on THAT matter.
I'm probably spreading myself too thin. But I've always done too many things at once so doing less makes me feel restless. Right now I just don't feel quite satisfied, and I'm probably trying to keep myself busy to cover it up.
Sorry for everyone who was looking for an amusing post; I'm feeling lame today. I'm going to go make some banana bread now. That always makes life better.
10.02.2010
Ladies, you have another pocket.
Warning: I wrote this after almost twelve hours of working at the bookstore. I am not responsible for my actions at this point.
Cleavage: it's not merely a decoration anymore. It can be an easy access holder for a multitude of items, including...
1. Your cellphone.
I'd set it on silent or ring.
2. Money.
Just remember to fish it out BEFORE you get to the register. And carrying change may be awkward.
3. Keys.
For extra style, add a lanyard.
4. Books.
If you're worried about a misshapen chest, just put on a scarf. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.
5. A waterbottle/coffee thermos.
Make sure that the lid is screwed on securely and is one of the no-leak ones unless you want to look like you lactated. If that was the look you were going for, I have no words.
6. Your lunch.
How do you like them apples?
Cleavage: it's not merely a decoration anymore. It can be an easy access holder for a multitude of items, including...
1. Your cellphone.
I'd set it on silent or ring.
2. Money.
Just remember to fish it out BEFORE you get to the register. And carrying change may be awkward.
3. Keys.
For extra style, add a lanyard.
4. Books.
If you're worried about a misshapen chest, just put on a scarf. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.
5. A waterbottle/coffee thermos.
Make sure that the lid is screwed on securely and is one of the no-leak ones unless you want to look like you lactated. If that was the look you were going for, I have no words.
6. Your lunch.
How do you like them apples?
10.01.2010
Everyone is getting books for Christmas.
I am in a love-hate relationship with Borders. The love is because I crave books almost as much as I crave caffeine. Almost. The hate is because of the inability of my manager to schedule me for a consistent number of hours/remember when I have class and can't work/give me any hours at all/not suck at life.
Por ejemplo: This week we are setting up the bookstore, which requires a lot of work from everyone and a ton of time; everyone who was hired specifically for the Borders Express was scheduled from 8-5 Monday through Friday. After I received the schedule, I emailed Helen (the business area manager because our store doesn't actually have its own manager) and explained that I had class on Tuesdays and Thursdays until 11:10, so would get to the store around noon. Tuesday morning, 8:30 AM, I get a call asking where I am. WHAT.
Ejemplo numero dos: I am scheduled for six hours next week. Six. Everyone else is scheduled for 20+. I am not normally one to use textisms, but WTF. I have picked up another job, but it will be roughly three hours daily Monday through Thursday, and does not interfere with the 9 to 3 shift. I repeat, WTF.
I am hoping that things get better. If they don't I am purchasing as many books as my greedy self can handle (that's a lot, especially with the employee discount) and kissing retail goodbye.
Now that I think about it, I might not be making enough at Borders to support my book habit. I have a fairly extensive list of things that I lusted over while unpacking/sorting this past week:
Por ejemplo: This week we are setting up the bookstore, which requires a lot of work from everyone and a ton of time; everyone who was hired specifically for the Borders Express was scheduled from 8-5 Monday through Friday. After I received the schedule, I emailed Helen (the business area manager because our store doesn't actually have its own manager) and explained that I had class on Tuesdays and Thursdays until 11:10, so would get to the store around noon. Tuesday morning, 8:30 AM, I get a call asking where I am. WHAT.
Ejemplo numero dos: I am scheduled for six hours next week. Six. Everyone else is scheduled for 20+. I am not normally one to use textisms, but WTF. I have picked up another job, but it will be roughly three hours daily Monday through Thursday, and does not interfere with the 9 to 3 shift. I repeat, WTF.
I am hoping that things get better. If they don't I am purchasing as many books as my greedy self can handle (that's a lot, especially with the employee discount) and kissing retail goodbye.
Now that I think about it, I might not be making enough at Borders to support my book habit. I have a fairly extensive list of things that I lusted over while unpacking/sorting this past week:
- Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
- Every book written by Chuck Palahniuk
- A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving
- A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khalad Hosseini
- Dracula: The Undead by Dacre Stoker
- Every book I don't already own by Orson Scott Card
- Lots more books that I can't think of right now
9.25.2010
Fun/Disgusting Things. Part I.
Pore strips
Despite the risk of letting it dry for too long and having to choose between skin grafts on your face and having the strip permanently attached to your schnoz, they are fun. I have recently become re-addicted in a futile attempt to clean out my gross nose pores. I don't know that they've helped at all, but I am nastily fascinated by the junk that is stuck to the strip when I finally get it off of my face.
Will there be a Part II to Fun/Disgusting Things? Maybe. If I remember.
Despite the risk of letting it dry for too long and having to choose between skin grafts on your face and having the strip permanently attached to your schnoz, they are fun. I have recently become re-addicted in a futile attempt to clean out my gross nose pores. I don't know that they've helped at all, but I am nastily fascinated by the junk that is stuck to the strip when I finally get it off of my face.
Will there be a Part II to Fun/Disgusting Things? Maybe. If I remember.
9.24.2010
I think Mario might have gotten a water balloon to the nuts.
I had my iTunes set to shuffle today, and there were some good songs that I had forgotten about.
First up is a song by Adam Gilbert. For some reason the song reminds me of Jesus Christ Superstar. The music video is weird as snake shoes, but mildly entertaining.
Next up: "Midnight Apt. #9 Blues" by Mike Therieau. I got this from the iLike application on facebook a while back.
Man, I could do this all night. I'll curb myself and leave you with one more. No idea if this band has a deal anywhere or is independently releasing music, but I love their sound. Here's "Dear Miss Bliss" by cinderpop.
Edit: I just noticed that two out of the three songs have pizzicato in them. I'm trying to decide if a song that incorporated all of my weird musical likes (banjo, pizzicato, and bagpipes) would be indescribably awesome or terrible. Probably terrible.
First up is a song by Adam Gilbert. For some reason the song reminds me of Jesus Christ Superstar. The music video is weird as snake shoes, but mildly entertaining.
Next up: "Midnight Apt. #9 Blues" by Mike Therieau. I got this from the iLike application on facebook a while back.
Man, I could do this all night. I'll curb myself and leave you with one more. No idea if this band has a deal anywhere or is independently releasing music, but I love their sound. Here's "Dear Miss Bliss" by cinderpop.
Edit: I just noticed that two out of the three songs have pizzicato in them. I'm trying to decide if a song that incorporated all of my weird musical likes (banjo, pizzicato, and bagpipes) would be indescribably awesome or terrible. Probably terrible.
9.23.2010
Smells like fall to me!
I think that I may have book ADD. Either that or I need to go to couples therapy each time I start reading a new book. I say this because I start novels and, after I'm about halfway, I pick up something else to read. Generally the original book is some great literary work, and the intermittent book is some piece of fluffy mind-candy. Example: I'm reading East of Eden (again). During this current read through, I have picked up at least three of my semi-crap fantasy books by Mercedes Lackey. Poor Easty, being thrown over for Bedlam's Bard floozies.
Yesterday I was incredibly bored, and that somehow morphed itself into me having a strong urge to bake a pie. Said pie has now been baked, and is cooling on a rack. The pumpkin pie recipe I used is below. Minus using the whole pumpkin; I just got a can of pumpkin puree.
Cut the pumpkin in half through the stem end and place, cut side down, on the baking sheet. Bake until easily pierced with a knife, about 1 hour. Let cool. Scoop out the seeds and fibers and discard. Puree the flesh in a food processor fitted with a metal blade until smooth. Measure out 1 1/2 cups; set aside. Increase the oven temperature to 375°F.
On a well-floured work surface, roll out the pastry into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a 9-inch pie dish and gently press into the bottom and sides of the dish. Trim the edges, leaving a 1 1/2-inch overhang, then fold under the overhang and crimp to form an attractive rim. Prick the bottom and sides of the pastry with a fork. Freeze for 10 minutes. Line the pastry with aluminum foil and fill with pie weights. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove the weights and foil and continue to bake until lightly golden, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool. Leave the oven set at 375°F.
In a bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree, maple syrup, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, eggs and half-and-half until well mixed. Pour into the baked pie shell. Bake until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean, 45 to 55 minutes. Let cool for at least 30 minutes. Serve the pie with the whipped cream on the side.
I'm also trying out some mulling spices in apple cider, and the house smells like delicious. And some coffee filters tied up with cotton string work very well in lieu of cheesecloth.
Is that picture slightly creepy? Yes. Yes it is. Deal. I made dinner tonight too, but I neglected to take a picture of it. Be assured that it was delicious.
Yesterday I was incredibly bored, and that somehow morphed itself into me having a strong urge to bake a pie. Said pie has now been baked, and is cooling on a rack. The pumpkin pie recipe I used is below. Minus using the whole pumpkin; I just got a can of pumpkin puree.
- 1 small pumpkin, 2 1/2 lb.
- Pastry for a 9-inch pie
- 1/4 cup maple syrup
- 1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
- 1 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp. ground ginger
- 1/2 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp. ground cloves
- 3 eggs, beaten
- 3/4 cup half-and-half
- Sweetened whipped cream for serving
Cut the pumpkin in half through the stem end and place, cut side down, on the baking sheet. Bake until easily pierced with a knife, about 1 hour. Let cool. Scoop out the seeds and fibers and discard. Puree the flesh in a food processor fitted with a metal blade until smooth. Measure out 1 1/2 cups; set aside. Increase the oven temperature to 375°F.
On a well-floured work surface, roll out the pastry into a 12-inch round. Transfer to a 9-inch pie dish and gently press into the bottom and sides of the dish. Trim the edges, leaving a 1 1/2-inch overhang, then fold under the overhang and crimp to form an attractive rim. Prick the bottom and sides of the pastry with a fork. Freeze for 10 minutes. Line the pastry with aluminum foil and fill with pie weights. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove the weights and foil and continue to bake until lightly golden, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool. Leave the oven set at 375°F.
In a bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree, maple syrup, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, eggs and half-and-half until well mixed. Pour into the baked pie shell. Bake until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean, 45 to 55 minutes. Let cool for at least 30 minutes. Serve the pie with the whipped cream on the side.
I'm also trying out some mulling spices in apple cider, and the house smells like delicious. And some coffee filters tied up with cotton string work very well in lieu of cheesecloth.
Is that picture slightly creepy? Yes. Yes it is. Deal. I made dinner tonight too, but I neglected to take a picture of it. Be assured that it was delicious.
9.22.2010
Banjo equals win.
I promised you music. Here it is.
First up is the Mynabirds. I was killing some time in Homer's in the Old Market and randomly picked up their CD. A little bluesy, a little jazzy, and all good stuff.
And to continue with the food fighting theme, here's a music video from Travis. Not a new band, but great music.
And last but certainly not least is the video for "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons. I saw them at Lollapalooza, and they are amazing. I totally dig the banjo. For those of you who have read East of Eden, they also have a song called "Timshel;" some of the lyrics are taken straight from the novel.
And yes, I do spend quite a bit of time on the YouTube.
First up is the Mynabirds. I was killing some time in Homer's in the Old Market and randomly picked up their CD. A little bluesy, a little jazzy, and all good stuff.
And to continue with the food fighting theme, here's a music video from Travis. Not a new band, but great music.
And last but certainly not least is the video for "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons. I saw them at Lollapalooza, and they are amazing. I totally dig the banjo. For those of you who have read East of Eden, they also have a song called "Timshel;" some of the lyrics are taken straight from the novel.
And yes, I do spend quite a bit of time on the YouTube.
9.21.2010
Optimus Prime should guest lecture.
I had a lecture on graph transformations this morning. It would have been way more interesting if it had somehow incorporated sentient robotic life; I should probably bring it up with the math department.
Far more annoying than the incredibly repetitive lecture was the guy sitting next to me. Yes, scruffy teenage seat neighbor, the lecture is boring. Yes, pimply boy whose voice has probably just broken, you did learn this in high school. Yes, immature whiny kid, the lecturer's English isn't perfect. But I would like to see you get up in front of a bunch of Chinese college students and conduct a lecture in Mandarin. Or Cantonese. Either way, SHUT UP. There are some students in the class who probably didn't learn this prior to college who will benefit from the repetition and the math may not be intuitive for everyone. So quit being a smug douche-waffle and shut your insufferable pie hole.
Now, I find the lectures just as boring as this guy obviously did, but I try to respect the other students in the class. And I had a crossword puzzle. But this dude was just being a pill. I gave said seat neighbor several looks complete with eyebrow raise, which were meant to say, "Really? Really." He did not get the message and continued to mutter things under his breath. Finally I turned around and gave the over-the-glasses, exasperated, you're-starting-to-piss-me-off look.
I think it's pretty clear how well I put up with BS.
Anyway, satisfied that Seat Neighbor had gotten the message, I turned around and finished filling in the crossword. At the end of algebra I headed to my speech class. Guess who sat next to me? Jerky Seat Neighbor. Shit.
That brings me to today's speech class. We were supposed to write an outline based on some news article that we found interesting, and today was speech-giving day. Some were good; some were not. Listening to certain speeches was both painful and embarrassing. It's like when someone sitting next to you on the bus audibly farts. Do you acknowledge the sound or the smell, or just sit there and let them live with the illusion that no one noticed?
Side note: Annoying Seat Neighbor's speech really sucked. Am I smug? You betcha. But only internally.
Disclaimer: My use of the word "douche" is not meant to be derogatory to women in any way. Duh. I just think the conjunction of certain words with "douche" is an amusing way to describe certain people, e.g. waffle, canoe, chandelier, etc.
Far more annoying than the incredibly repetitive lecture was the guy sitting next to me. Yes, scruffy teenage seat neighbor, the lecture is boring. Yes, pimply boy whose voice has probably just broken, you did learn this in high school. Yes, immature whiny kid, the lecturer's English isn't perfect. But I would like to see you get up in front of a bunch of Chinese college students and conduct a lecture in Mandarin. Or Cantonese. Either way, SHUT UP. There are some students in the class who probably didn't learn this prior to college who will benefit from the repetition and the math may not be intuitive for everyone. So quit being a smug douche-waffle and shut your insufferable pie hole.
Now, I find the lectures just as boring as this guy obviously did, but I try to respect the other students in the class. And I had a crossword puzzle. But this dude was just being a pill. I gave said seat neighbor several looks complete with eyebrow raise, which were meant to say, "Really? Really." He did not get the message and continued to mutter things under his breath. Finally I turned around and gave the over-the-glasses, exasperated, you're-starting-to-piss-me-off look.
I think it's pretty clear how well I put up with BS.
Anyway, satisfied that Seat Neighbor had gotten the message, I turned around and finished filling in the crossword. At the end of algebra I headed to my speech class. Guess who sat next to me? Jerky Seat Neighbor. Shit.
That brings me to today's speech class. We were supposed to write an outline based on some news article that we found interesting, and today was speech-giving day. Some were good; some were not. Listening to certain speeches was both painful and embarrassing. It's like when someone sitting next to you on the bus audibly farts. Do you acknowledge the sound or the smell, or just sit there and let them live with the illusion that no one noticed?
Side note: Annoying Seat Neighbor's speech really sucked. Am I smug? You betcha. But only internally.
Disclaimer: My use of the word "douche" is not meant to be derogatory to women in any way. Duh. I just think the conjunction of certain words with "douche" is an amusing way to describe certain people, e.g. waffle, canoe, chandelier, etc.
9.20.2010
Happy cows come from Wisconsin.
I went to California this past weekend to visit Western University. They have one of the DVM programs I'm interested in, and I thought that I should definitely visit this one. It's a bit... different. There are no lectures. Instead, there are small groups mediated by a professor. You're presented with a case, and are basically in charge of identifying your own learning issues, possible diagnoses, treatments, etc. It sounds scary, but a style of learning that I might like and do well in.
On Friday I was able to sit in on one of the problem-based learning (PBL) groups. It was fun and relaxed, and at one point the group was serenaded by the mediating professor a la Dean Martin. I think that the group/professor were a bit worried that they were intimidating me or that I was getting freaked out or overwhelmed.
Little do they know.
Yes, that is a denim jumpsuit. I will never need another Halloween costume.
Anyway, I think I made a good impression and that the prof I talked to liked me; hopefully that means that I'll get an interview!
After the business was out of the way, my friend from LA and I had the rest of the weekend to play. It was a really fun day and a half. We went antique-ing, wandered down to the Santa Monica Pier, Muscle Beach, and the 3rd Street Promenade, and finished up the day at the Getty Center, which is a huge and amazing art museum. All in all it was a good weekend.
And to round out the post, here's a picture of some Wisconsin cheese in the shape of a giraffe.
On Friday I was able to sit in on one of the problem-based learning (PBL) groups. It was fun and relaxed, and at one point the group was serenaded by the mediating professor a la Dean Martin. I think that the group/professor were a bit worried that they were intimidating me or that I was getting freaked out or overwhelmed.
Little do they know.
Yes, that is a denim jumpsuit. I will never need another Halloween costume.
Anyway, I think I made a good impression and that the prof I talked to liked me; hopefully that means that I'll get an interview!
After the business was out of the way, my friend from LA and I had the rest of the weekend to play. It was a really fun day and a half. We went antique-ing, wandered down to the Santa Monica Pier, Muscle Beach, and the 3rd Street Promenade, and finished up the day at the Getty Center, which is a huge and amazing art museum. All in all it was a good weekend.
And to round out the post, here's a picture of some Wisconsin cheese in the shape of a giraffe.
9.15.2010
The outhouse wall calendar exists.
I am officially employed. Sort of.
Upon returning to Wisconsin to live with my parents, I was determined that I would be financially independent. I don't know why, but accepting money from my parents has always made me a bit uncomfortable. And how lame would I feel living off of my parents at 24? I started looking online and in the classifieds and saw a seasonal listing for Borders. I thought, "I like books" and filled out the application (which involved a personality assessment; I always find those difficult to fill out because I think too much and the questions are crap and only offer the same four answer options for each question).
A few days later I got a call and went in for an interview. Long story short, I was hired and am now selling calendars. Wait, what? Oh yeah, the seasonal book store isn't set up yet, so I have to work at the Day by Day Calendars kiosk at the mall. Yup, I feel cool.
In addition to the cool factor, there are some pretty sweet rules that I'm supposed to follow:
1) You must remain within three feet of the kiosk at all times. Working a seven hour shift? You cannot pee or grab something to eat or drink. I must conclude that to work at this kiosk you must have a bladder capable of holding Lake Superior and must be able to live off of the food smells that come from the pretzel stand that is farther down the wing.
2) You are not allowed to have any personal effects at the kiosk. Having your monthly visitor? Too bad! You can't go to the bathroom anyway, so having tampons would just be a useless gesture anyway.
3) No jeans. All I have to say is eff that noise.
In the few shifts I have worked, I have had my cell phone with me, turned off the register monitor while running to the bathroom, and worn jeans. Now, lest you think I am a rule-breaking rabblerouser, I have been told by four other people working that those rules are crap and feel free to break them discreetly. For $7.25 an hour, thanks, I will.
In other news, Tess got a haircut. She now looks less like a mop and more like a dog:
And for another random thought (you were warned), I highly recommend The Reanimator, a dark roast coffee from Just Coffee Cooperative. It's fair trade and shade grown, and the art on the bag is a reasonably accurate depiction of me in the morning before a caffeine infusion.
Upon returning to Wisconsin to live with my parents, I was determined that I would be financially independent. I don't know why, but accepting money from my parents has always made me a bit uncomfortable. And how lame would I feel living off of my parents at 24? I started looking online and in the classifieds and saw a seasonal listing for Borders. I thought, "I like books" and filled out the application (which involved a personality assessment; I always find those difficult to fill out because I think too much and the questions are crap and only offer the same four answer options for each question).
A few days later I got a call and went in for an interview. Long story short, I was hired and am now selling calendars. Wait, what? Oh yeah, the seasonal book store isn't set up yet, so I have to work at the Day by Day Calendars kiosk at the mall. Yup, I feel cool.
In addition to the cool factor, there are some pretty sweet rules that I'm supposed to follow:
1) You must remain within three feet of the kiosk at all times. Working a seven hour shift? You cannot pee or grab something to eat or drink. I must conclude that to work at this kiosk you must have a bladder capable of holding Lake Superior and must be able to live off of the food smells that come from the pretzel stand that is farther down the wing.
2) You are not allowed to have any personal effects at the kiosk. Having your monthly visitor? Too bad! You can't go to the bathroom anyway, so having tampons would just be a useless gesture anyway.
3) No jeans. All I have to say is eff that noise.
In the few shifts I have worked, I have had my cell phone with me, turned off the register monitor while running to the bathroom, and worn jeans. Now, lest you think I am a rule-breaking rabblerouser, I have been told by four other people working that those rules are crap and feel free to break them discreetly. For $7.25 an hour, thanks, I will.
In other news, Tess got a haircut. She now looks less like a mop and more like a dog:
And for another random thought (you were warned), I highly recommend The Reanimator, a dark roast coffee from Just Coffee Cooperative. It's fair trade and shade grown, and the art on the bag is a reasonably accurate depiction of me in the morning before a caffeine infusion.
9.12.2010
Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty.
Or so Jacob Bronowski, British mathematician and biologist tells me. I'm not so sure about the knowledge part, and I'm fairly certain that my life doesn't fit with the whole adventure theme, but uncertainty and I are past the nodding acquaintance stage in our relationship.
As you may have gathered from the blurb beneath the blog title, I'm applying to vet school. For the first time in a long time, I think I'm making the right decision for myself. However, I was missing a few requirements. Hello, freshmen speech class. College algebra, how was your summer? I had my first set of classes on Thursday, and I definitely felt old afterward. I can't decide if I'm going to enjoy playing the role of old lady among young whippersnappers or it's only going to make me uncomfortable. Either way, I'm stuck going to lectures about functions and eye contact until December.
Most of the time I probably won't be writing about any of the stuff that this blog is supposed to be about. There will probably be some food and music thrown in there. And some things that have nothing to do with anything. So. Let the games begin.
As you may have gathered from the blurb beneath the blog title, I'm applying to vet school. For the first time in a long time, I think I'm making the right decision for myself. However, I was missing a few requirements. Hello, freshmen speech class. College algebra, how was your summer? I had my first set of classes on Thursday, and I definitely felt old afterward. I can't decide if I'm going to enjoy playing the role of old lady among young whippersnappers or it's only going to make me uncomfortable. Either way, I'm stuck going to lectures about functions and eye contact until December.
Most of the time I probably won't be writing about any of the stuff that this blog is supposed to be about. There will probably be some food and music thrown in there. And some things that have nothing to do with anything. So. Let the games begin.
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