Yeah, I had to move. Mac/blogger compatibility issues demanded a change. With any luck, the transition will go pretty smoothly…
Archive for May, 2007
The Ladybug Game comes with no directions. But I caught on pretty quickly. And now I am a fiend! I must play! Bonus is the nifty Japanese (Korean? Chinese? Otherwise foreign?) talking.
I have the television viewing habits of a prepubescent female or a gay man. Yeah, I know it’s not ideal for a woman of my age or marital status, but nonetheless, I proudly stand behind my minor additions to the Arbitron Ratings. Alas, my Tuesday night line up is no more. Gilmore Girls, Veronica Mars and American Idol (with a side or Real World/Road Rules Challenge): canceled, cancelled, on hiatus until January (and not on tonight). I feel a little hollow inside.
In an effort to pass these empty minutes, I’ve compiled a List of Things To Do Now That The Night of Television Greatness Has Ceased To Be:
1. Look at pictures of a young David Hasselhoff online. What a hunk.
2. Clean out refrigerator science experiments. Wonder if Bionic Kitty will eat any of them.
3. Turn on a rerun of The Pussy Cat Dolls: Search For The Next Doll (which has replaced the wonder that was Veronica Mars) in order to mock and deride the show which embodies the desecration of TV. Become fascinated by the ability of a person to dance in wedgie inducing hot pants and 14 inch heels. When come to senses, mentally chastise self for watching something so low brow. Then, continue watching because there is nothing else on. Plus, this is Quality Crasness.
4. Play the video of Miss America falling over and over and over. Compare to last Friday’s Post-Bar Incident. Feel better. After all, she was sober.
5. Fantasize about a conversation between John Mayer and Dawson Leery. Pee pants laughing at excessive amount of suppressed homoerotic overtones and Jennifer Love Hewitt references.
6. Turn on LED time display on new high-tech alarm clock. Angle so LED displays time on the wall in green. Flash hand in front of display. Watch Bionic Kitty throw herself repeatedly at wall in response to repeated commands to “sic it!”
7. Roast marshmallows over grill in 88 degree weather.
8. Karaoke in front of bathroom mirror to radio song so old it can no longer be unidentified mentally as anything besides “that Spice Girls song.” While wearing a purple face mask with white from different type of mask cunningly placed in T-zone. Have hair escaping from attempt to pull back from forehead with 8 little barrettes because headband is MIA. (Hair+Face Mask=Very Boy George.) Then, grab shampoo bottle for mic. This is one of those times a hair brush just won’t do it. Walk forcefully out of bathroom up and down hallway singing about wannabeing something something something aaaaahhhhh. Scary Spice impression: complete.
9. Paint toes alternating between green and orange. It’s a tribute to a football team. While not aware of which one, but know there must be one. Go team.
10. Alphabetize spices. Ponder if normal salt and kosher salt should be separated. Realize Tuesday night has sunk to a new low.
I did all these things tonight. Yes, indeedy.
Every Thursday for a few weeks, I have been going to see a Mental Health Professional. Initially, I felt that 50 minutes of uninterrupted bitching about everything from not being able to drive to how much I resent my neurologist for prescribing a drug I describe as “horrific” on a good day would be a welcome relief. After all, there are a limited number of people that I feel comfortable truly expressing this type of frustration to. How many people really want to hear about this stuff? And that number becomes even slimmer when the possibility of crying is involved. All boys are automatically out, and I find there is a very complex structure in Female World about who you can cry to. There was a high Crying Potential here, and I was all about paying somebody to pass the tissue.
I’ve always been a big believer in seeking help when life is a little more than I can handle. In law school, when I was the facing the big Do I Really Want To Be a Lawyer Crisis, I hauled booty over to a very nice lady a few blocks from school. After many particularly grueling Tax Law classes, she helped me see reason and understand that smooshing my professor’s head under a stack of tax code books was not the quick fix to my dislike of law school. Apparently, there is a difference between fantasy and acting out and actions which will land a person in jail. Anyway, when insomnia came into my current reality, in addition to everything else, I decided I should once again find a nice lady a few blocks away and I have been going ever since.
These sessions are really a life savor. I can discuss the heavy stuff but I also can vent about the small things that have unexpectedly developed into life issues. For example, where else can I discuss my newly discovered fear of strobe lights and not seem totally ridiculous? I know they can lead to seizures, but really, should I flinch every time I pass the fire alarm strobes in office hallways? Um, no. And after ten minutes of complaining about how stupid it is to potentially cause somebody to have a seizure during a fire evacuation, I no longer flinched. Irrationality: be gone!
This past Thursday I thought would be pretty innocuous. But it wasn’t. Turns out we discussed my biggest fear. It came up because I was on a Work Bonding Excursion on Tuesday and one of the questions we had to answer for the group was about our biggest fear. Tangential Thought: who is about to share their biggest fear with work colleagues and actually be honest? Not even all of my good friends know that, let alone the person I only know as Person Who Never Makes More Coffee And Consequently Irks Me Even Though I Don’t Drink Coffee But It Is The Principle Of The Matter. So, I copped out and said my biggest fear was cellulite but it didn’t bother me as much anymore because I had all ready acquired a good amount and I got a good laugh and we all went about the business of bonding some more. End of Tangential Thought. I threw this tidbit in as part of my Recap of Annoying Things Since Last Thursday, but my Mental Health Professional apparently thought my avoidance in actually answering the question pointed to a Bigger Issue.
Just so everybody knows, my biggest fear is Loss. Yes, I know that can encompass a lot of things, but my fear is pretty all inclusive. When I have a fear, I don’t skimp or limit it. In the nifty way that Mental Health Professionals have, my MHP got me to realize that the entire reason I had even mentioned the Work Bonding thing was to talk about this fear and its manifestation currently. Yeah, sure, I talk about loss with her all the time. Hello, loss of driving, loss of freedom, loss of the essence of being an adult, and all that. But what was hitting me so hard was the loss of a really important friend and we picked that apart, as well as my panicked, extreme, and even slightly-psychotic reaction to that loss.
Here I am, several days later, and still reeling from that 50 minutes. The sappy music is pretty prominent on the stereo right now and I really want to eat ice cream. These are my usual coping mechanisms. And I’m still mentally exploring why I hurt so badly and struggling to let go of this sense of betrayal. I’m trying to forgive and understand that I can’t fix this and accept that I can’t change other people. I’m having to let go of worrying about somebody who doesn’t want me to be concerned anymore. But perhaps most importantly, I am trying to realize I might never understand. “Why?” is an awful big question to live with but we all have to. And until I can accept that, there is ice cream and Bette Midler.
For the record: I heart my new computer. I think Steve Jobs just became my new Geek Crush. Yes, even over Alton Brown. Anybody who can pioneer a company that makes such easy to use and beautiful and bug-free computer products deserves to replace Alton. Plus, it used to take me over 50 minutes to upload a CD. I have uploaded about 30 today. The only flaw in the Down With PCs Conversion resulted from operator error. When I tried to switch over my iTunes from my PC to this lovely machine, I somehow missed a crucial step and deleted all my uploaded music. The stuff I had purchased from iTunes was still there, thank God. (Though I about had a heart attack before I realized that) But the Great CD Uploading Project of 2005-2006 was all gone. The Re-Uploading Project of 2007 is going to last me this weekend. That’s it. It’s a Mac Miracle. And since that was the only big conversion casualty, I think I did pretty well.
Granted, there are some things I don’t like. For example, I am used to having a right click and left click option on my mouse. Not being able to spell check with the left click thing is kind of annoying. I have to figure out and relearn all those shortcuts. And there are a few other word processing things I don’t like. Like no thesaurus. How am I supposed to sound fancy without one? I won’t know to use words like farfandoodle. Oh, and the fact that I can’t alphabetize my picture folders automatically really sucks. I stink at ABC order and that took me forever to do manually, but of course I had to do it because I am A-type to the nth million degree. The bonus is I know there are lots of fun things on here I don’t know how to use and will be discovering in the next few months. The joys!
Oh, and let me just say, Stickies Rock!
My sorry excuse for a computer crashed last week and it took me a few days to make a decision in the Mac vs. PC debate. When I finally did, I had to research what I wanted, order it, and wait somewhat patiently for it to show up at my doorstep. It’s here! At long, long last! I’ve been moving cords, picking backgrounds, and otherwise getting my tech geek on since 6:30. I’ll post more when I finally figure out where the typing program is on this thing. Ah, the joys of being a PC user taking a blind leap into the Mac world.
Today is Friday, tomorrow is Saturday, and my birthday is on Sunday. Besides a hot man and a million dollars, there isn’t much I want. Well, except for random kitchen gadgetry.
Odd concepts in the kitchen always fascinate me. Who really needs cups that snap together? Especially at $50 per cup and they can’t go in the dishwasher. Um, pass.
I really do want a jumbo muffin pan. I can make jumbo muffins to go with my usual breakfast of a jumbo diet coke. It might help to make me less of a jumbo grump in the morning.
Hand painted plates and bowls that tie into my attempt at a retroish inspired red and blue kitchen theme might be nice. Maybe just one or two for parties. Wait, what parties? Never mind…
Oh! I can get customized Jones soda bottles. Bionic Kitty can be on the labels! Conversation piece and good for continuous laughs.
I LOVE Kettle chips. The thought makes my stomach growl and my arteries get a nice clogged feeling. To be able to get a five pack of limited edition flavors would be totally nifty.
The next stage in garlic presses. It’s like building a better mouse trap, but for cooking! And I hate my garlic press. All those little pieces I have to try to dig out with a fork. It’s the most aggravating kitchen gizmo.
A personal deep fryer would be nice. Seriously. Fresh onion rings whenever I want them? Yes, please!
Chocolate voodoo dolls! Hahahahahahha! I rather like the idea.
Six, SIX, siiiixxxx more days to my birthday. Just in case anybody needed to know. Anyway, while I was trolling online indulging in some Birthday Splurge Fantasies at Tiffany.com, I came across these two things…
While not really something I can get for the Joyous Occasion, I think this example of Extreme Star Wars Fandom is generally worth sharing. I wonder if somebody went to jail for that USPS property vandalism/art thing…
Peeps! Only the third best candy ever! Peeps are great to eat, to blow up in the microwave, and to use in recreations of the 10 Plagues sent by God.
It is a bad sign that people actually have time to do these things, it is even worse that I found them online.
Bionic Kitty likes to hide in tight spaces. Granted, for a 15 pound cat, “tight” is relevant. Usually, this means the bath tub. Or behind the couch. She is also a big fan of large mailing boxes, laundry baskets, and over sized Nordstrom bags. It’s just a matter of her squishing her pudgy middle section into the space, turning around so she faces out and there she’ll sit for hours, scornfully watching the world pass. Two weeks ago, she discovered an empty water bottle container I had sitting by the trash can and this became her latest prime real estate for endless sitting. Every time I tried to move the container, she sprinted into the kitchen — and she can move when her food or the snooze location du jour is at stake — and hissed me into submission. Once, I ignored the fit and even made it to the outside door with the empty container. Mistake. She immediately ran to the standing planter I’ve got near the door and purposely lunged at it, spilling three potted plants across the kitchen and sending huge amounts of wet potting soil into the vents. After two hours of clean up (most of which was spent trying to jimmy up the vent covers with a butter knife), I decided I’d been bested by a moronic cat and would leave the darn water bottle container alone.
But of course, I had to take pictures. I’m obsessed with my cats and their general stupidity and nothing less than full documentation would suffice. In my efforts to stake out a good shot, I had a camera sitting on the kitchen counter for about eight days. Anytime I heard the telling, “crinkle, crinkle, whoosh” of the plastic stretching to accommodate her, I would sneak try to capture it on film. But Bionic Kitty hates the paparazzi. She always got out before I could take a single picture. I tried multiple tactics. One night, I sat for about an hour on the floor, waiting to see if she would get in. I’m currently an insomniac, so what else is there to do at 1 a.m.? Another night, I put the camera on the floor, set to take a picture as soon as she got in. As soon as the battery died, Bionic Kitty went into the thingie. She knows, I tell you. Finally, last night, I got some pictures. Never underestimate the power of bribery. Putting cat treats into the darn container helped.