So some stuff has happened. I have a new job in the marketing department at Overstock.com. I have a new studio apartment in the downtown department of Utah. That's not what this blog post is about.
This is about animal companionship. I think I'm ready for a pet fish again. Let's play some dreamy background music and take a step back in time to look at my fish past…
2004: I got a plastic fish in a vending machine. It was really great. It had rubbery fins and I liked to keep it in the cup holder of my car. This is what inspired me to want a real fish.
2005: As a super special birthday present I got two goldfish named Kanye and Gup-gup, complete with a purple aquarium. It was the only pet allowed in our dorm room and you better believe we loved those little fish like they were capable of knowing what affection was. I even tried to pet them with my finger on MULTIPLE occasions (every single day). Once I succeeded and it was gross.
Also 2005: A few weeks after acquiring the fish, things started to get sketchy. Gup-gup and Kanye were OBSESSED with sticking their noses above the water and as a result developed strange growths on them. At the time I attributed it to all the finger petting. Also they started swimming upside down like they were one step away from death. So I went to Petsmart where the fish specialist told me that goldfish need oxygen pumped in. Who knew? I had so much to learn about fish mothering.
Again, 2005: Aaaaaaand a few weeks later Gup-gup, apparently traumatized by the lack of oxygen, succumbed to her weird nose growths and died. I always dreamed of Gup-gup and Kanye having a joint funeral, and since it looked like Kanye was also on his death bed my mom lovingly wrapped her corpse in tin foil and wrote "Here lies Gup-gup, she was a good fish" on top. I then put her in the garage freezer to wait until I could hold a proper fish burial.
2006: Kanye makes a miraculous recovery thanks to his new oxygen pump. I would later learn, after accidentally leaving him alone for a week unfed, that Kanye has developed a super-human resistance to death. I'm not proud of this, but once I didn't clean the tank for awhile and there was a slimy green layer so thick you could not see him through it. But did he die? No no no, he just tried to clean his aquarium himself by eating that disgusting green slime. A real testament to his character.
Late 2006: Things took a turn for the worse when Kanye attempted suicide. Every time I cleaned his tank, I had to transport him to a small bowl. Usually this was pretty seamless. This time it was not. As I was herding him into the bowl, he deliberately veered to the right and took a dive onto the floor below. I panicked as his little body flopped around before deftly scooping him and saving his life like the hero I am.
2007: Things were not looking good for Kanye. At this point he has survived several hardships. A very awkward ride from Logan to Salt Lake in a plastic bag on my lap. Things of that nature. He held on though, much to everyone's surprise, and moved to Oakridge with me. I didn't know it yet, but this would be his final resting place.
Early 2008: Okay, to be honest, I was really sick of caring for the super human fish and sort of forgot about him. That is until my roommate got Beta fish. We put the two bowls next to each other and would watch, delighted, as the Beta's rammed against the fish bowl trying to attack Kanye. This lasted until my roommate overfed her Beta fish and they died from gluttony. I am not making this up.
Mid-2008: Kanye was never the same after that. He started swimming very slowly and floating to the surface of his bowl despite desperate attempts to paddle those little fins. I knew his time was getting near. One day I checked on him to find a strange growth coming from his little fish butt. It appeared as though his intestines were literally coming out of him. A few weeks later, I got the text "I think Kanye might be dead." Indeed, he was, and the heartbreak was too much to bear, so I covered his tank with paper towels and mourned. And mourned. And mourned. And forgot about him. And then was too grossed out to look under the paper towel. Finally Deven flushed him down the toilet as I read a eulogy.
Pretty sure Gup-gup is still in my parent's freezer.
Anyway, writing this novel of a blog post actually completely discouraged me from getting a pet.
Soooooo, what's up everyone?
Monday, November 22, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
List
Places to take Holga:
1. A carnival
2. Hot springs
3. California
4. Building roof
Things to buy:
1. Proper fitting oxfords
2. Satchel bag
3. Cynthia Rowley Band-Aids
4. A simple necklace
5. Lace-up boots
Need to do:
1. Figure out why my eye was bleeding last night
2. Paint my nails
Music to listen to:
1. New Sufjan
2. All of Best Coast
3. Madder Red
No, I don't think I spend too much time on the internet...Why? Do you?
1. A carnival
2. Hot springs
3. California
4. Building roof
Things to buy:
1. Proper fitting oxfords
2. Satchel bag
3. Cynthia Rowley Band-Aids
4. A simple necklace
5. Lace-up boots
Need to do:
1. Figure out why my eye was bleeding last night
2. Paint my nails
Music to listen to:
1. New Sufjan
2. All of Best Coast
3. Madder Red
No, I don't think I spend too much time on the internet...Why? Do you?
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Stalking nature
Once, while driving, I spotted a literal herd of deer in a cemetery by the city. I could not say 'no' to creepin' on them and playing deer paparazzi.
 |
| I made a life altering discovery and have decided I want to be buried in my own fancy tomb. |
 |
| Haunting, right? |
 |
| I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me. I got shockingly close to the deer after this was take, but got all scared that they would attack on hind legs and smack me with their hoofs. |
Monday, August 2, 2010
oooh baby I love your way
Take a little look through the recent pictures I have taken and you will see that I am clearly obsessed with alison donna [redacted for people that really are creeps and not just pseudo-creeps like me].
Who is this enchanting girl? Let me show you.
If I was a better photographer, this would have been an epic Godzilla picture.
Again, I am really great at pictures. Ali as a ghost.
This is her boyfriend, what's-his-name. Whatever, not important, back to alison.
Practically a saint in that photo.
Oh, and as a side note, I also have a boyfriend...I think he was at the show that night. I was too busy taking pictures of alison to notice.
Who is this enchanting girl? Let me show you.
If I was a better photographer, this would have been an epic Godzilla picture.
Again, I am really great at pictures. Ali as a ghost.
This is her boyfriend, what's-his-name. Whatever, not important, back to alison.
Practically a saint in that photo.
Oh, and as a side note, I also have a boyfriend...I think he was at the show that night. I was too busy taking pictures of alison to notice.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Television, My True Love
When Tim Gunn is the screen I'm full of love and wonder, caught in a fantasy world where Tim Gunn is my life mentor, patting me on the shoulder and telling me to make it work or making a frowny face at my outfit choice (Tim, I seriously didn't have time to get ready today) When Tim Gunn is not on the screen I'm waiting for him to come back and spout out something profound about fabric choices and draping.
Ha ha, oh Tim.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
An offer
I was thinking about how when I was little my favorite books were about ponies. Then, inevitably, I thought about what a good band name Pony Club Secrets was ( or even The Pony Club if we were venturing into copyright infringement territory). I even MySpaced it to see if it was taken and it was not.
Album cover?
So I guess that means our first album will be titled "Angel and the Flying Stallions." I'm okay with that. In fact, think how many band names could spring from that alone. The Flying Stallions.
Right, I know I don't play any instruments and I sing in a fake voice ONLY, so here is my offer- someone with talent contact me and I will let you use my idea in exchange for money and a part in the band where all I have to do is fake play piano (because no one can really see what you're doing with your fingers.)
In our band's spare time I would like if we could thrift for matching stage costumes and reupholster furniture.
Ha ha ha just kidding. (No, I'm not. Please someone help me all I can ever be in life is a traveling fake musician.)
Other books I loved that can potentially be band names:
The Silver Slippers, Walk Two Moons or If You Only Knew anyone?
Album cover?
So I guess that means our first album will be titled "Angel and the Flying Stallions." I'm okay with that. In fact, think how many band names could spring from that alone. The Flying Stallions.
Right, I know I don't play any instruments and I sing in a fake voice ONLY, so here is my offer- someone with talent contact me and I will let you use my idea in exchange for money and a part in the band where all I have to do is fake play piano (because no one can really see what you're doing with your fingers.)
In our band's spare time I would like if we could thrift for matching stage costumes and reupholster furniture.
Ha ha ha just kidding. (No, I'm not. Please someone help me all I can ever be in life is a traveling fake musician.)
Other books I loved that can potentially be band names:
The Silver Slippers, Walk Two Moons or If You Only Knew anyone?
Friday, July 16, 2010
Doing stuff, listening to indie rock
Last night was craft night. It was lots of wandering around Michael's and picking things up and putting them down and thrift stores and this picture:
We made magic corpse windows, so that when you look through them you can see what you will look like as a ZOMBIE CORPSE.
Also I half-painted a unicorn picture. Crafts!
We made magic corpse windows, so that when you look through them you can see what you will look like as a ZOMBIE CORPSE.
Also I half-painted a unicorn picture. Crafts!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The rest is still unwritten
It's almost concerning how many people I have talked to about The Hills today. What will I do after the series finale ends? Who will I be without Audrina to imitate?
Although a little piece of my heart already died the day LC left, I'm still feeling lost. So, in honor of the show that brought me so much joy, a tribute.
“Jeans can be really addicting. There’s always new ones and you feel like you have to have them. I can’t do it.” ~Whitney
I can hardly even look at this one. Oh, the days when Heidi and Lauren didn't even have to photoshopped into photos together. A simpler time P.K.C. (pre-Kelly Cutrone) when Whitney mostly just blinked as LC regaled her with stories about Jason/Brody and would never dream about putting her private life on display. Look at those pigtails and tell me you knew that someday Whitney would be a diva.
No words, no words for that sparkle in Heidi's eyes that has been surgically removed. No words for that flat chest that would someday house so much silicone that even Pamela Anderson, upon seeing it, would cast her eyes downward in silent defeat.
And who could forget this grainy scene, when it all fell apart. As thick black tears streamed down LC's face, I cried for all the shopping trips and fake-eating scenes that would never again happen between Lauren and Heidi.
"Truth and time tells all."- Justin Bobby
Here's to truth and time. There were so many photos I could have chosen to represent Justin Bobby, but this one captures the essence of JB. The half ponytail, the nonchalant eyebrow. At that moment the wisest thing he thinks he has ever thought was probably coming out of his mouth.
Pretty sure I should stop googling The Hills pictures at work, so in closing- goodbye les deux, goodbye Audrina staring at random things, goodbye Speidi when you were just a little appalling and not so sad/awkwardly hard-to-watch, goodbye Brody...have fun with your new girlfriend avril lavigne, goodbye Kristen and the way you could never measure up to LC because you were in love with Justin Bobby and Brody Jenner, goodbye Lo "I'm Switzerland" Bosworth, goodbye Ryan Cabbrera's spiky hair-you were never "bad" enough for Audrina, goodbye matching jean vests, goodbye Stephanie Pratt wasting away more with each passing episode (good luck with your purse designing business), goodbye gratituous bikini shots with a top 40 song playing in the background and goodbye all the wonderful, wonderful jokes I made on behalf of this show. I loved you.
Although a little piece of my heart already died the day LC left, I'm still feeling lost. So, in honor of the show that brought me so much joy, a tribute.
“Jeans can be really addicting. There’s always new ones and you feel like you have to have them. I can’t do it.” ~Whitney
I can hardly even look at this one. Oh, the days when Heidi and Lauren didn't even have to photoshopped into photos together. A simpler time P.K.C. (pre-Kelly Cutrone) when Whitney mostly just blinked as LC regaled her with stories about Jason/Brody and would never dream about putting her private life on display. Look at those pigtails and tell me you knew that someday Whitney would be a diva.
No words, no words for that sparkle in Heidi's eyes that has been surgically removed. No words for that flat chest that would someday house so much silicone that even Pamela Anderson, upon seeing it, would cast her eyes downward in silent defeat.
And who could forget this grainy scene, when it all fell apart. As thick black tears streamed down LC's face, I cried for all the shopping trips and fake-eating scenes that would never again happen between Lauren and Heidi.
"Truth and time tells all."- Justin Bobby
Here's to truth and time. There were so many photos I could have chosen to represent Justin Bobby, but this one captures the essence of JB. The half ponytail, the nonchalant eyebrow. At that moment the wisest thing he thinks he has ever thought was probably coming out of his mouth.
Pretty sure I should stop googling The Hills pictures at work, so in closing- goodbye les deux, goodbye Audrina staring at random things, goodbye Speidi when you were just a little appalling and not so sad/awkwardly hard-to-watch, goodbye Brody...have fun with your new girlfriend avril lavigne, goodbye Kristen and the way you could never measure up to LC because you were in love with Justin Bobby and Brody Jenner, goodbye Lo "I'm Switzerland" Bosworth, goodbye Ryan Cabbrera's spiky hair-you were never "bad" enough for Audrina, goodbye matching jean vests, goodbye Stephanie Pratt wasting away more with each passing episode (good luck with your purse designing business), goodbye gratituous bikini shots with a top 40 song playing in the background and goodbye all the wonderful, wonderful jokes I made on behalf of this show. I loved you.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Severe anxiety, I have it
Does anyone else have alarm clock neurosis?
I am so terrified of not waking up that I literally have to set two alarms on my phone, two minutes apart, every single night.
Never mind that I am usually awoken by the blind people bus that stops in front of my house every morning, announcing it’s route loudly. Or that sometimes when my fan rustles a piece of paper it violently wakes me up, in a panic that someone has broken in and is now rifling through my magazines with wild abandon.
Last night though it spiraled into scary OCD territory as I realized my phone was nearly out of batteries and my charger was nowhere to be found. I set the two alarms anyway and then proceeded to set the alarm clock in my room. Then I dug out an old alarm clock and set that too, just in case maybe the first one was broken from not using it for so long.
Then I settled into bed. And started realizing that I had no clue if the alarm clocks I had set really worked so I went about testing them all, several times, then resetting them, then double checking it.
I honestly spent half an hour ensuring I would wake up in the morning- It was all so unnecessary, I see that now. And then this morning came…it was like a war between the four most annoying sounds in the world. I was simultaneously awoken by bells, a gentle harp, a shrill beep and mariachi music from the Spanish radio station.
How do you even go about your day when THAT is how you are woken up?
I am so terrified of not waking up that I literally have to set two alarms on my phone, two minutes apart, every single night.
Never mind that I am usually awoken by the blind people bus that stops in front of my house every morning, announcing it’s route loudly. Or that sometimes when my fan rustles a piece of paper it violently wakes me up, in a panic that someone has broken in and is now rifling through my magazines with wild abandon.
Last night though it spiraled into scary OCD territory as I realized my phone was nearly out of batteries and my charger was nowhere to be found. I set the two alarms anyway and then proceeded to set the alarm clock in my room. Then I dug out an old alarm clock and set that too, just in case maybe the first one was broken from not using it for so long.
Then I settled into bed. And started realizing that I had no clue if the alarm clocks I had set really worked so I went about testing them all, several times, then resetting them, then double checking it.
I honestly spent half an hour ensuring I would wake up in the morning- It was all so unnecessary, I see that now. And then this morning came…it was like a war between the four most annoying sounds in the world. I was simultaneously awoken by bells, a gentle harp, a shrill beep and mariachi music from the Spanish radio station.
How do you even go about your day when THAT is how you are woken up?
Friday, June 4, 2010
A little reminder
So, lately I have seen overalls popping up here and there on fashion-type blogs. I am being serious when I say this is one trend I can NEVER, ever subscribe to. And to remind myself of that, here is a list of why:
1. I have a picture of myself, on the first day of second grade, wearing the following combination: Green sunflower print overalls, scrunch socks, patchwork quilt Converses (as horrible as you are imagining) and a neon colored backpack. One side of my overalls is unbuckled, telling my classmates that I was much too cool to bother fastening both sides. I should never be allowed to even utter the word ‘fashion’ again.
2. When I was in fourth grade I wore a sassy white pair of overalls to school. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at lunch contemplating how I was going to avoid grass stains and playground dirt (a. stand by a portable with the cools girls talking about how hot Jonathan Taylor Thomas was or b. play kickball and sneak to the back of the line over and over so I would never actually have to play) when I dropped an entire carton of chocolate milk on my lap. I had to waddle to the office with drippy chocolate milk pants and call my mom, crying hysterically, and ask her to bring me new clothes. Traumatizing.
3. Buried deep in a box at my parent’s house is a photo of me in a dressing room stall wearing overalls with an embroidered Eeyore on them, circa 1999. Next to it is a picture of Ali wearing the same thing. Maybe we were joking, but probably deep inside we actually wanted to own these items of clothing. As I look at that girl, with gigantic eyebrows and white sparkle eyeshadow, I know that to own overalls now would be to unleash that inner 12-year-old. No thanks.
4. A problem I have run into with my recent romper addiction is how unnaturally long my torso is. My solution for this as a young overall-wearing child was to adjust the straps to make them as long as possible. That presented a whole new conundrum because not only did it look stupid, but now I had a gaping patch of skin on the side where my shirt was not long enough. The solution? A bodysuit. Please tell me you remember those. Well, things went from bad to worse when one day in second grade the snaps holding it in place began to come undone as I sat in class. I could see it going very badly, so I casually slipped my hand down to try and fix it. As I struggled, my teacher looked over at me, hand down my pants, and asked if I was okay. Seriously mortifying for a little girl.
I could go on, seriously, but this is dredging up some painful memories. I think I have sufficiently made my point.
1. I have a picture of myself, on the first day of second grade, wearing the following combination: Green sunflower print overalls, scrunch socks, patchwork quilt Converses (as horrible as you are imagining) and a neon colored backpack. One side of my overalls is unbuckled, telling my classmates that I was much too cool to bother fastening both sides. I should never be allowed to even utter the word ‘fashion’ again.
2. When I was in fourth grade I wore a sassy white pair of overalls to school. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at lunch contemplating how I was going to avoid grass stains and playground dirt (a. stand by a portable with the cools girls talking about how hot Jonathan Taylor Thomas was or b. play kickball and sneak to the back of the line over and over so I would never actually have to play) when I dropped an entire carton of chocolate milk on my lap. I had to waddle to the office with drippy chocolate milk pants and call my mom, crying hysterically, and ask her to bring me new clothes. Traumatizing.
3. Buried deep in a box at my parent’s house is a photo of me in a dressing room stall wearing overalls with an embroidered Eeyore on them, circa 1999. Next to it is a picture of Ali wearing the same thing. Maybe we were joking, but probably deep inside we actually wanted to own these items of clothing. As I look at that girl, with gigantic eyebrows and white sparkle eyeshadow, I know that to own overalls now would be to unleash that inner 12-year-old. No thanks.
4. A problem I have run into with my recent romper addiction is how unnaturally long my torso is. My solution for this as a young overall-wearing child was to adjust the straps to make them as long as possible. That presented a whole new conundrum because not only did it look stupid, but now I had a gaping patch of skin on the side where my shirt was not long enough. The solution? A bodysuit. Please tell me you remember those. Well, things went from bad to worse when one day in second grade the snaps holding it in place began to come undone as I sat in class. I could see it going very badly, so I casually slipped my hand down to try and fix it. As I struggled, my teacher looked over at me, hand down my pants, and asked if I was okay. Seriously mortifying for a little girl.
I could go on, seriously, but this is dredging up some painful memories. I think I have sufficiently made my point.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
bike bike bike
you guys, I have a bike. Dreams are coming true this summer.
It all began when I was at my parents house. I was out in the garage spying on my little brother who was practicing ninja rolls in the front yard*. Just as I was considering how to get him on a reality show, I looked up and there, in the rafters, were two bikes.
These bikes have been in my life since 1987, silently hanging in garages, but never before had they looked so full of promise and joy. Fast-forward, we fixed the tires, cleaned it and now I can awkwardly cruise around Salt Lake like a little bird. A little bird with a sore butt. Who maybe looks really out of shape breathing heavily up small inclines.
Bike!
*Shortly after the ninja roll, I watched him throw a football at a rock only to have it bounce back and hit him in the face. Completely unaware anyone was watching.
It all began when I was at my parents house. I was out in the garage spying on my little brother who was practicing ninja rolls in the front yard*. Just as I was considering how to get him on a reality show, I looked up and there, in the rafters, were two bikes.
These bikes have been in my life since 1987, silently hanging in garages, but never before had they looked so full of promise and joy. Fast-forward, we fixed the tires, cleaned it and now I can awkwardly cruise around Salt Lake like a little bird. A little bird with a sore butt. Who maybe looks really out of shape breathing heavily up small inclines.
Bike!
*Shortly after the ninja roll, I watched him throw a football at a rock only to have it bounce back and hit him in the face. Completely unaware anyone was watching.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
me, me, me
Blogging in hopes it will take up some time, not because I have anything special to write.
Why is it that as soon as I open this little window my brain is automatically starts churning out either a.) a list of things I want (a bike with a basket and a haircut, please) or b.) a list of things I am worried about (not failing political statistics and not failing political statistics, please God let me graduate.)
Thanks brain, but I am not even going to go there. Instead, I am going to make a list of things I like and am happy about to counteract the crippling depression creeping in brought on by the snow outside.
1. An expanding record collection. I discovered the most amazing record store and with David have bought approximately 20 records in the past two weeks including the Breakfast at Tiffanys soundtrack and Captain and Tennille's greatest hits for when I need a laugh. It's addicting. Currently a life goal I have set for myself is owning "Rocky Raccoon" on vinyl, so if anyone sees a White album floating around please let me know.
2. Gchat. Small, discreet wonderful gchat on which I can lust over KSL listings and be entertained by friends allllll day long. Also related, RSS feeds which enable me to stalk allllll day long.
3. Target. I could write sonnets to Target. I adore Target and I am pretty sure I venture there once a week. It is like my Tiffanys in "Breakfast at Tiffanys." Breakfast at Target. I once got lotion for $.40. Oh also I am becoming a hoarder because of Target, so there's that. I have like five bottles of shampoo in my closet.
4. Betos tortillas. I found out you can just buy singular tortillas at Betos. It was a good day as I sat there double-fisting plain tortillas in my car.
5. New pillows. For my bed. I am like Goldilocks about pillows and they are ALWAYS too thin or too puffy or too hard or too soft. But I am happy to report I have found a wonderful pillow and each night as I set my weary head on it I think to myself, "Just right."
6. The eternal quest for the perfect brown oxfords. This one is kind of annoying, but gives purpose to my life. So far I have gotten a pair from ebay that were actually men's and are way too big and a pair from Urban Outfitters that were in confusing European sizes and much too small. Someday I will be victorious and broke from shipping charges.
Well, this list is pretty much turning into a Things I Want list. It did, however, take up twenty minutes.
Why is it that as soon as I open this little window my brain is automatically starts churning out either a.) a list of things I want (a bike with a basket and a haircut, please) or b.) a list of things I am worried about (not failing political statistics and not failing political statistics, please God let me graduate.)
Thanks brain, but I am not even going to go there. Instead, I am going to make a list of things I like and am happy about to counteract the crippling depression creeping in brought on by the snow outside.
1. An expanding record collection. I discovered the most amazing record store and with David have bought approximately 20 records in the past two weeks including the Breakfast at Tiffanys soundtrack and Captain and Tennille's greatest hits for when I need a laugh. It's addicting. Currently a life goal I have set for myself is owning "Rocky Raccoon" on vinyl, so if anyone sees a White album floating around please let me know.
2. Gchat. Small, discreet wonderful gchat on which I can lust over KSL listings and be entertained by friends allllll day long. Also related, RSS feeds which enable me to stalk allllll day long.
3. Target. I could write sonnets to Target. I adore Target and I am pretty sure I venture there once a week. It is like my Tiffanys in "Breakfast at Tiffanys." Breakfast at Target. I once got lotion for $.40. Oh also I am becoming a hoarder because of Target, so there's that. I have like five bottles of shampoo in my closet.
4. Betos tortillas. I found out you can just buy singular tortillas at Betos. It was a good day as I sat there double-fisting plain tortillas in my car.
5. New pillows. For my bed. I am like Goldilocks about pillows and they are ALWAYS too thin or too puffy or too hard or too soft. But I am happy to report I have found a wonderful pillow and each night as I set my weary head on it I think to myself, "Just right."
6. The eternal quest for the perfect brown oxfords. This one is kind of annoying, but gives purpose to my life. So far I have gotten a pair from ebay that were actually men's and are way too big and a pair from Urban Outfitters that were in confusing European sizes and much too small. Someday I will be victorious and broke from shipping charges.
Well, this list is pretty much turning into a Things I Want list. It did, however, take up twenty minutes.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
schooled
Rising panic.
I only have three weeks left of my entire school life. Four to five weeks left of my job.
My job that I have grown to love. I love absolute freedom and writing all day. For the first time in my life I can come and go as I please, no questions asked. I can check my phone whenever I hear a little buzz coming from the corner of my desk and I can get ready in the morning without fear of clocking in five minutes late.
I will miss getting assignments, picking up tickets at will-call, scribbling notes in dim light and rushing frantically back to the office to typetypetype with one eye on the clock.
I will miss my parking pass and my little name badge that grants me access into the newsroom. I will miss driving around the valley interviewing people with fascinating (and not so fascinating) stories.
I will miss staring out the fifth floor window all day at the old Tribune building and wondering what it would be like to work in a time when my preferred profession was not laughable.
I would like to take a month of and travel all over in my car, but the catch-22 of it all is that that takes money. Money you get from a job. That will not let you take a month off to travel. What to do?
In other news, Deven and I made a married person blog documenting our room mate romance. There is a poll. It will be fun.
http://www.thefinhood.blogspot.com
I only have three weeks left of my entire school life. Four to five weeks left of my job.
My job that I have grown to love. I love absolute freedom and writing all day. For the first time in my life I can come and go as I please, no questions asked. I can check my phone whenever I hear a little buzz coming from the corner of my desk and I can get ready in the morning without fear of clocking in five minutes late.
I will miss getting assignments, picking up tickets at will-call, scribbling notes in dim light and rushing frantically back to the office to typetypetype with one eye on the clock.
I will miss my parking pass and my little name badge that grants me access into the newsroom. I will miss driving around the valley interviewing people with fascinating (and not so fascinating) stories.
I will miss staring out the fifth floor window all day at the old Tribune building and wondering what it would be like to work in a time when my preferred profession was not laughable.
I would like to take a month of and travel all over in my car, but the catch-22 of it all is that that takes money. Money you get from a job. That will not let you take a month off to travel. What to do?
In other news, Deven and I made a married person blog documenting our room mate romance. There is a poll. It will be fun.
http://www.thefinhood.blogspot.com
Friday, March 26, 2010
Vacation, please.
I, quite desperately, want to go on a road trip spanning from California to Florida. I want to hop in my (very untrusty) car, tumble out on a beach somewhere, visit best friends in Illinois and Tennessee, stop at small antique stores in small towns, sing to mixes made for rolling down the windows, never wash my wind-tangled hair, enjoy the road and the sunrises and the sunsets and end up at this magical place:
Mapquest tells me it will only cost $600 in gas...
Mapquest tells me it will only cost $600 in gas...
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Last night I had the most terrible dreams about bears. I blame the whale incident. But I love bears, seriously, I am like a bear advocate. These nightmares ruined my life. My family and I were camping and swimming in the lake alongside a pack of bears. They were being adorable and splashing us and rolling around when one of them just snapped and started running (on the water, yes) towards a little child, growling and being generally terrifying. Not wanting to see what was about to happen, I started running with my parents towards the forest. There we stumbled upon more angry bears and a terrifying chase ensued. Ending with us all being eaten. By wild, rabid bears.
I can't even tell you how much I hate my subconscious right now. I will never be able to enjoy Bear World again. Okay, that's a lie I can, but still. Bears were like the one thing I wasn't scared of in the wilderness. and wolves. I do like wolves. Cue next frightening dream...
I can't even tell you how much I hate my subconscious right now. I will never be able to enjoy Bear World again. Okay, that's a lie I can, but still. Bears were like the one thing I wasn't scared of in the wilderness. and wolves. I do like wolves. Cue next frightening dream...
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
I forgot to put a title until just now
I am about to show you the most beautiful bicycle to ever grace my eyes:
and now a confession: I am too scared to ride a bike around the city. Even though it is a baby city, I am terrified of being one with cars when all I have is a slight metal frame and a Styrofoam helmet to protect me.
I don't know the etiquette of real-life bike riding. I'm good as long as there are bike lanes, but once it is me and the bare street...terror. I'm telling you. Do I do arm signals? Switching lanes when I need to turn left?!?? What if someone drives to close to me and hits me with their side-view mirror? Havoc. In my mind riding a bicycle downtown is havoc.
Update: I just ate one of those those cheese and cracker things with the sweet little red stick and it had so much cheese on it that I almost threw up...It seems I am no longer a child capable of loving insane amounts of processed cheese. Sad.
and now a confession: I am too scared to ride a bike around the city. Even though it is a baby city, I am terrified of being one with cars when all I have is a slight metal frame and a Styrofoam helmet to protect me.
I don't know the etiquette of real-life bike riding. I'm good as long as there are bike lanes, but once it is me and the bare street...terror. I'm telling you. Do I do arm signals? Switching lanes when I need to turn left?!?? What if someone drives to close to me and hits me with their side-view mirror? Havoc. In my mind riding a bicycle downtown is havoc.
Update: I just ate one of those those cheese and cracker things with the sweet little red stick and it had so much cheese on it that I almost threw up...It seems I am no longer a child capable of loving insane amounts of processed cheese. Sad.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
When does Gossip Girl come back on? Seriously.
I am not Catholic...not at all, but every year I give up something for lent (Lent? Don't even know) because I have usually already failed at New Year's resolutions and to keep Melanie company in her Catholicism.
This year I have given up shopping.
This morning I got an email from Forever 21, subject: Get your romp on.
(Reference last post)
(Reference I hate being so materialistic)
Not going to lie, I am really struggling through the last half of winter. So much that I decided to go tanning and then my poor skin shriveled up at the thought and cancer instantly sprang up on my arms and thank you very much magazine articles about the dangers of tanning beds because I think I will just save my $8 and buy pistachio macarons and wallow.
I'm basically just writing this blog post so the minutes will edge towards 1:00 when I have promised myself a sandwich and a lap around the office. What a treat! The real sadness lies in the fact that I have been amped about this sandwich since, oh, 10 a.m. and that I actually hate sandwiches.
In other news related to me, I hate Avatar. Just throwing that out there. Judge accordingly. It gets worse each time I have to sit through three hours of the most HORRIFICALLY cheesy dialogue I have heard since the one time I watched the Mormon version of Beauty and the Beast.
My mom made me.
Judge accordingly.
This year I have given up shopping.
This morning I got an email from Forever 21, subject: Get your romp on.
(Reference last post)
(Reference I hate being so materialistic)
Not going to lie, I am really struggling through the last half of winter. So much that I decided to go tanning and then my poor skin shriveled up at the thought and cancer instantly sprang up on my arms and thank you very much magazine articles about the dangers of tanning beds because I think I will just save my $8 and buy pistachio macarons and wallow.
I'm basically just writing this blog post so the minutes will edge towards 1:00 when I have promised myself a sandwich and a lap around the office. What a treat! The real sadness lies in the fact that I have been amped about this sandwich since, oh, 10 a.m. and that I actually hate sandwiches.
In other news related to me, I hate Avatar. Just throwing that out there. Judge accordingly. It gets worse each time I have to sit through three hours of the most HORRIFICALLY cheesy dialogue I have heard since the one time I watched the Mormon version of Beauty and the Beast.
My mom made me.
Judge accordingly.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I'm hungry
Let me tell you about a new little love of mine called a romper.
For those unaware, that is the romper that I am currently pining after. I have a renewed interest in wearing only clothes i can buy for under $5 at Thrift Town. Luckily, there are rompers in every shape, color, size and floral pattern to satiate my desire... Through fraught with peril (ie trying to quickly go to the bathroom before you pee your pants- next to impossible in a romper, FYI) wearing one reminds me of spring. and spring reminds me that I will not be cold and devoid of sunlight for eternity.
Oh, so this weekend I bought a glue gun. Does anyone read any cute crafty-type Web sites that don't make you feel like you are nearly geriatric? (Hannah, I know what you are thinking.) I don't have television anymore so I am thinking I will need a hobby for the evening hours...
For those unaware, that is the romper that I am currently pining after. I have a renewed interest in wearing only clothes i can buy for under $5 at Thrift Town. Luckily, there are rompers in every shape, color, size and floral pattern to satiate my desire... Through fraught with peril (ie trying to quickly go to the bathroom before you pee your pants- next to impossible in a romper, FYI) wearing one reminds me of spring. and spring reminds me that I will not be cold and devoid of sunlight for eternity.
Oh, so this weekend I bought a glue gun. Does anyone read any cute crafty-type Web sites that don't make you feel like you are nearly geriatric? (Hannah, I know what you are thinking.) I don't have television anymore so I am thinking I will need a hobby for the evening hours...
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A short essay on why moving out is not the same when you are 18 as when you are 22
Well, well it appears I am now renting an apartment. I say appears because I am not actually sure what just happened. Deven and I went to look at a place and all the sudden it was like cute entry...Wood paneling?... Why is there a sink in the living room?... Oh but I love the windows... Please sign this lease. And it was done. To the apartment's credit, it IS cute and I HAVE been needing to downsize my belongings by like, oh, I don't know 70 percent.
Anyway, the point is, I am moving out! I can't wait for the wild nights in which I will stay up past 11 p.m. and then be cranky the next morning when I wake up at 7 to go to work! Oh ho ho neighbors, you better watch out for the soft indie-folk tunes that will be pouring out of my stereo during those late nights. That smell? Oh that's just my INCENSE (burned strictly because I like the scent, not to cover drug use of any sort) suckaaaa!
Yesterday I used dry shampoo in a desperate attempt to avoid showering and it made my hair turn a shade of gray that could only be remedied by taking a shower. Isn't that ironic. Are those two thoughts related? I'm not sure.
Anyway, the point is, I am moving out! I can't wait for the wild nights in which I will stay up past 11 p.m. and then be cranky the next morning when I wake up at 7 to go to work! Oh ho ho neighbors, you better watch out for the soft indie-folk tunes that will be pouring out of my stereo during those late nights. That smell? Oh that's just my INCENSE (burned strictly because I like the scent, not to cover drug use of any sort) suckaaaa!
Yesterday I used dry shampoo in a desperate attempt to avoid showering and it made my hair turn a shade of gray that could only be remedied by taking a shower. Isn't that ironic. Are those two thoughts related? I'm not sure.
Friday, January 15, 2010
A post in which I excessively use footnotes
Each day, as I sit in the office and try to make up tasks for myself*, I grow more and more socially awkward. It begins from the time I walk into the features nook and decide if "Hello" or "Good morning" would be more appropriate. It usually comes out as "Hellorning."
From there it generally speeds downhill as I internally debate what, exactly, I should be doing and whether or not I should speak to my co-workers/editors**. Then I compulsively drink water bottles until it is 5 p.m.; at which point I can gather my belongings, whisper "Goodbye" and get out of the elevator on the wrong floor and wander around until I find my car as the other writers drive by, undoubtedly puzzled at why I look like a crazed hobo searching for shelter in the parking garage.
Oh adult life, you're more than I ever dreamed. I commute. I take a lunch (but only when I don't feel awkward about asking to leave. DO I NEED MEDICATION?) I wear office appropriate clothes. This little charade ends come May and is it wrong that I just want to go back to school?
* A conversation that just occurred in my head: "Hmmmm what can I google that looks as if I am doing research when I am not? How to crochet? That might prove useful. But can I make it look like I am NOT, in fact, googling crocheting lessons? Probably not. I guess I will just refresh CNN again to see if they have posted any stories about celebrities because THAT is what I choose to be interested in, not important things like the crisis in Haiti. Which is very sad. It just doesn't make time pass by as quickly as fashion/music/scandal."
** Not because I don't want to, but because my track record is not very good. I generally walk away from conversations re-playing them and cringing at myself for spewing out sentences like "Um, like, that's too funny. Ha." SERIOUSLY?
From there it generally speeds downhill as I internally debate what, exactly, I should be doing and whether or not I should speak to my co-workers/editors**. Then I compulsively drink water bottles until it is 5 p.m.; at which point I can gather my belongings, whisper "Goodbye" and get out of the elevator on the wrong floor and wander around until I find my car as the other writers drive by, undoubtedly puzzled at why I look like a crazed hobo searching for shelter in the parking garage.
Oh adult life, you're more than I ever dreamed. I commute. I take a lunch (but only when I don't feel awkward about asking to leave. DO I NEED MEDICATION?) I wear office appropriate clothes. This little charade ends come May and is it wrong that I just want to go back to school?
* A conversation that just occurred in my head: "Hmmmm what can I google that looks as if I am doing research when I am not? How to crochet? That might prove useful. But can I make it look like I am NOT, in fact, googling crocheting lessons? Probably not. I guess I will just refresh CNN again to see if they have posted any stories about celebrities because THAT is what I choose to be interested in, not important things like the crisis in Haiti. Which is very sad. It just doesn't make time pass by as quickly as fashion/music/scandal."
** Not because I don't want to, but because my track record is not very good. I generally walk away from conversations re-playing them and cringing at myself for spewing out sentences like "Um, like, that's too funny. Ha." SERIOUSLY?
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