I was that crazy woman today in the parking lot at Kroger. I couldn't pull into my parking space because someone pulled out of one and stopped, blocking the way for me to swing out to get to the spots. He WAITED for me to turn onto the row of cars. I tried waving him on, letting him know he needed to get out of the way. So I got in his way and couldn't make it into the spot. I tried THREE TIMES and still was horrifically stuck because the stupid person behind me tailgated me into the row. There were plenty of parking spaces, three in a row, if anyone would let me get to them. Instead, I just looked like a moron who can't park.
Later, in the grocery store, I kept dropping things. I kept running into people. I kept getting angry. People kept walking right into my path and stopping and then proceeded to get mad at me when I ran into them. When I finally got back to my car, I didn't have my keys. The genius who tailgated me to my parking spot was sitting in his car next to me, watching. I dug through my whole purse, took everything out. I realized that I'd used my keys to swipe my Kroger plus card. I went back inside -- my keys were lying in the bagging area behind a lip that I was too short to see over when I was paying.
Back into the parking lot. I'm backing out slowly because I'm at an awkward angle and I can't back out left very well. I back out straight, slowly, then start to turn. I have to back up into the empty parking spaces behind me. An Indian guy walks behind me with his cart, evidently expecting me to not back up that far. I almost hit him and he freezes like a deer directly behind me and glares at me. I wave him on and I think he mouthed a few curse words at me and moved on. It wasn't my fault he wasn't paying attention! I was backing up for 15 seconds and I'd looked everywhere and he wasn't there before. He didn't even bother to pay attention as he went through the parking lot....
I just had to tell myself a few times quietly to let it go. Let it go, let it go, let it go. It doesn't do anyone else any good for me to be upset. And I'll probably do something else seemingly stupid in the process of being angry, like actually hit someone in the parking lot on the way out....
I think the worst thing is that in moments like these, I moronically care what other people think of me. I see other people and I think they think I'm a crazy woman at the grocery store. Or an inconsiderate woman who can't park and doesn't look back when she's backing up. I know I'm not any of these things but for some reason, it's as if people think that, then it might make it somewhat true....
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
One-Minute Writer: The World Today
Is our world today a better or worse place than it was when you were a kid?
Given the violence in the world today, I could say that the world was a better place when I was a kid. But given the fact that I paid attention to only those things that I wanted to pay attention to when I was a kid, I really cannot say without a little research. Things always change and often in ways that people are either unprepared for or unhappy about. It is so easy to say that things used to be better. People say life was better in the 50s but I wonder if that was really true. Have people become sex-crazed and overtly violent since then or is it really just more socially acceptable? Who is to say that people weren't cheating on their spouses as often then? (particularly since divorce was a no no.) Women couldn't work and keep their self respect. There was segregation in the school system and racism was rappant and socially acceptable, among other things. These changes haven't created a violent society, though I'm sure some would argue that line of thinking. People have changed. The world has changed. It was one thing after another that brought us to where we are today. Better or worse, it's what we have today. If we want the future to be better instead of looking back at now as the "good times," then we all have a responsibility to make the world a better place.
Plus, when my mom was growing up, she couldn't wear jeans to school. And I definitely think that that made a giant impact on my childhood.
Given the violence in the world today, I could say that the world was a better place when I was a kid. But given the fact that I paid attention to only those things that I wanted to pay attention to when I was a kid, I really cannot say without a little research. Things always change and often in ways that people are either unprepared for or unhappy about. It is so easy to say that things used to be better. People say life was better in the 50s but I wonder if that was really true. Have people become sex-crazed and overtly violent since then or is it really just more socially acceptable? Who is to say that people weren't cheating on their spouses as often then? (particularly since divorce was a no no.) Women couldn't work and keep their self respect. There was segregation in the school system and racism was rappant and socially acceptable, among other things. These changes haven't created a violent society, though I'm sure some would argue that line of thinking. People have changed. The world has changed. It was one thing after another that brought us to where we are today. Better or worse, it's what we have today. If we want the future to be better instead of looking back at now as the "good times," then we all have a responsibility to make the world a better place.
Plus, when my mom was growing up, she couldn't wear jeans to school. And I definitely think that that made a giant impact on my childhood.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Putting the Guns Back in Christmas
I fired a gun for the first time on Christmas Eve. Prior to the experience, I had to hold back the urge to cry.
My lovely family has been visiting for the Christmas holidays. On Christmas Eve my brother-in-law took us to a shooting range to shoot guns for the first time. He having fired his first gun only weeks earlier made this a bit of a shock to the rest of us, never mind the physical shock of being around so many firearms being discharged in an echoey room.
We all donned our safety glasses and "headphones." and walked into the hallway separating the main storefront from the gallery proper. It was very important that both doors not be open at the same time. We all wandered in afraid, not really sure what to do. I was unsure of even making eye contact with the other men that were all in the gallery. Someone started firing with a new gun -- a shinier, louder gun that made me flinch rather awkwardly, almost like twisting my body diagonally in half in discomfort. As I did so, I made eye contact with one of the other men, perhaps the one closest to my age (who probably thought I was 16). I'm not sure what sort of look I gave him as we stared at each other and looked away but I would imagine it was one of half-hid shock as I worked to conceal my fear and pain at the entire experience [this is not to say that Alden took us shooting against our will but that I've always been more than a little afraid of firearms] and an expression that perhaps looked in askance: why do people do this? or even simpler: why is that gun so freaking loud?
I started out on a small rifle. It felt like nothing. And, in comparison with the other guns being fired, probably was nothing. Alden patiently taught me how to load it, how to work the safety. He showed me and then watched me do it; showed me how to cock the gun.
After waiting around for a while, I moved to the next line and got to use the handgun. It was a wood and metal number, I don't recall the specific type. I'm not sure I knew what it was or if I ever heard Alden give the description through my earplugs and protective "headphones." We went through the entire learning process again, Alden patiently explaining to me the gun mechanisms. This gun had a little more kick to it. I had my face so close to the gun when I was aiming that it almost hit me in the face a few times -- but didn't. This gun's noise was worse but still nothing in comparison of the virtually automatic guns that were being fired on either side of us at this point.
I'm glad for the experience -- it's always good to face a fear. And even though I had been ready to cry when we began, almost feeling like I wasn't ready for the experience, I was glad that we did it in the end. I'm still glad. Makes me want to face other fears, though which ones in particular I'm not quite sure....
After we went to the shooting range, Laura and I drove all the way down to Midtown to my office to get a Christmas present I left there, then to my apartment to get another one, then back up to Cumming to attend dad's chorale group's performance at a church service. We left that service and then went to Wednesday night church for our Church.
At church, the power was flickering on and off just after the readings were to finish and just as the second portion started, giving people the chance to stand and share testimonies of healing. The power went out for good. Normally, the ushers have microphones for people to talk into but instead, people just stood up and spoke in the mostly dark. It was a calm thing, really, and beautiful in its simplicity. Since the power was out, the organ was out of commission. Instead, we sang two carols, Joy to the World and Silent Night together in the dark. Just as we were finishing the last verse of Silent Night, the lights came back on. I rather preferred the dark, really. Such a lovely, quiet few moments of singing and listening.
Afterwards around 9 pm we went to IHOP to eat dinner before a marathon Christmas gift wrapping session at home.
Shooting guns, driving to Atlanta and back, 2 church services, singing carols in the dark, and IHOP. Not your typical Christmas Eve, huh?
My lovely family has been visiting for the Christmas holidays. On Christmas Eve my brother-in-law took us to a shooting range to shoot guns for the first time. He having fired his first gun only weeks earlier made this a bit of a shock to the rest of us, never mind the physical shock of being around so many firearms being discharged in an echoey room.
We all donned our safety glasses and "headphones." and walked into the hallway separating the main storefront from the gallery proper. It was very important that both doors not be open at the same time. We all wandered in afraid, not really sure what to do. I was unsure of even making eye contact with the other men that were all in the gallery. Someone started firing with a new gun -- a shinier, louder gun that made me flinch rather awkwardly, almost like twisting my body diagonally in half in discomfort. As I did so, I made eye contact with one of the other men, perhaps the one closest to my age (who probably thought I was 16). I'm not sure what sort of look I gave him as we stared at each other and looked away but I would imagine it was one of half-hid shock as I worked to conceal my fear and pain at the entire experience [this is not to say that Alden took us shooting against our will but that I've always been more than a little afraid of firearms] and an expression that perhaps looked in askance: why do people do this? or even simpler: why is that gun so freaking loud?
I started out on a small rifle. It felt like nothing. And, in comparison with the other guns being fired, probably was nothing. Alden patiently taught me how to load it, how to work the safety. He showed me and then watched me do it; showed me how to cock the gun.
After waiting around for a while, I moved to the next line and got to use the handgun. It was a wood and metal number, I don't recall the specific type. I'm not sure I knew what it was or if I ever heard Alden give the description through my earplugs and protective "headphones." We went through the entire learning process again, Alden patiently explaining to me the gun mechanisms. This gun had a little more kick to it. I had my face so close to the gun when I was aiming that it almost hit me in the face a few times -- but didn't. This gun's noise was worse but still nothing in comparison of the virtually automatic guns that were being fired on either side of us at this point.
I'm glad for the experience -- it's always good to face a fear. And even though I had been ready to cry when we began, almost feeling like I wasn't ready for the experience, I was glad that we did it in the end. I'm still glad. Makes me want to face other fears, though which ones in particular I'm not quite sure....
After we went to the shooting range, Laura and I drove all the way down to Midtown to my office to get a Christmas present I left there, then to my apartment to get another one, then back up to Cumming to attend dad's chorale group's performance at a church service. We left that service and then went to Wednesday night church for our Church.
At church, the power was flickering on and off just after the readings were to finish and just as the second portion started, giving people the chance to stand and share testimonies of healing. The power went out for good. Normally, the ushers have microphones for people to talk into but instead, people just stood up and spoke in the mostly dark. It was a calm thing, really, and beautiful in its simplicity. Since the power was out, the organ was out of commission. Instead, we sang two carols, Joy to the World and Silent Night together in the dark. Just as we were finishing the last verse of Silent Night, the lights came back on. I rather preferred the dark, really. Such a lovely, quiet few moments of singing and listening.
Afterwards around 9 pm we went to IHOP to eat dinner before a marathon Christmas gift wrapping session at home.
Shooting guns, driving to Atlanta and back, 2 church services, singing carols in the dark, and IHOP. Not your typical Christmas Eve, huh?
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
One Minute Writer: Chicken
Today's Writing Prompt: Chicken
Why did the chicken cross the road?
. . .
The chicken felt an uncontrollable urge to cross over to a new way of thought. The road, being only the representation of a physical crossroads in the chicken's journey of thought, needed to be chosen and contemplated before it could be traveled. Thus, the chicken had made a thoughtful analysis and decision to go on a different track in life.
=)
. . .
I've often wondered about the above joke and how it came to be perhaps the most popular corny joke of all time. I've often thought that the much more fun contemplation was "Which came first: the chicken or the egg?" My favorite response is that there were eggs long before there chickens. And to suppose that the statement implies that the egg is a chicken egg is an unmeritted assumption.
That being said, I love eggs. I always enjoyed those incredible, edible egg commercials. I'm ammused by the American Egg Board. I am also a big fan of breakfast.
Enough about eggs.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
. . .
The chicken felt an uncontrollable urge to cross over to a new way of thought. The road, being only the representation of a physical crossroads in the chicken's journey of thought, needed to be chosen and contemplated before it could be traveled. Thus, the chicken had made a thoughtful analysis and decision to go on a different track in life.
=)
. . .
I've often wondered about the above joke and how it came to be perhaps the most popular corny joke of all time. I've often thought that the much more fun contemplation was "Which came first: the chicken or the egg?" My favorite response is that there were eggs long before there chickens. And to suppose that the statement implies that the egg is a chicken egg is an unmeritted assumption.
That being said, I love eggs. I always enjoyed those incredible, edible egg commercials. I'm ammused by the American Egg Board. I am also a big fan of breakfast.
Enough about eggs.
Monday, December 15, 2008
One-Minute Writer: Nuts
Today's Writing Prompt: Nuts
In what way are you a little (or more than a little) crazy?
. . .
[This topic could certainly last longer than a minute for me]
I over-analyze everything. And I'm a little paranoid. And I project emotions on other people that aren't necessarily there. I'm also a 10-year-old trapped in a soon to be 26-year-old's body (as is evidenced by my love of VeggieTales, all things Disney, my fondness of skipping, and my high-pitched voice). And I never cry in front of people.
Let's get cracking on that first one: over-analyzation. I'll admit it, I do it. It can be helpful to contemplate things in an analytical way. I don't necessarily believe that every conclusion I come to is correct, but I enjoy doing it. I love talking about things with people and going through the possibilities of all the "whys" something may have happened (or not have happened, as is sometimes the case). I like to look at all sides of something. As a result, I go overboard. While I realize that this can be entertaining, I'm well aware that it can also be detrimental. This is why while I do over-analyze, I'm aware and try to curb myself from overreaching opinions. I'm also good at telling myself that things that are a big deal to me might be an infinitesimal deal to someone else.
The paranoia and the projections seem to go hand in hand. Sometimes I feel like the people driving around me hate me and are trying their best to hit me or ride my bumper. Thus I am both paranoid about what they think and projecting anger onto them. In reality, I know that the people driving around me probably aren't angry unless I commit some egregious driving act that puts their lives in danger....
As for the being a child thing, take that with a grain of salt. We all need to be better children. The world would be a better place if we were.
In what way are you a little (or more than a little) crazy?
. . .
[This topic could certainly last longer than a minute for me]
I over-analyze everything. And I'm a little paranoid. And I project emotions on other people that aren't necessarily there. I'm also a 10-year-old trapped in a soon to be 26-year-old's body (as is evidenced by my love of VeggieTales, all things Disney, my fondness of skipping, and my high-pitched voice). And I never cry in front of people.
Let's get cracking on that first one: over-analyzation. I'll admit it, I do it. It can be helpful to contemplate things in an analytical way. I don't necessarily believe that every conclusion I come to is correct, but I enjoy doing it. I love talking about things with people and going through the possibilities of all the "whys" something may have happened (or not have happened, as is sometimes the case). I like to look at all sides of something. As a result, I go overboard. While I realize that this can be entertaining, I'm well aware that it can also be detrimental. This is why while I do over-analyze, I'm aware and try to curb myself from overreaching opinions. I'm also good at telling myself that things that are a big deal to me might be an infinitesimal deal to someone else.
The paranoia and the projections seem to go hand in hand. Sometimes I feel like the people driving around me hate me and are trying their best to hit me or ride my bumper. Thus I am both paranoid about what they think and projecting anger onto them. In reality, I know that the people driving around me probably aren't angry unless I commit some egregious driving act that puts their lives in danger....
As for the being a child thing, take that with a grain of salt. We all need to be better children. The world would be a better place if we were.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Grocery Shopping
I absolutely adore grocery shopping. I didn't used to think so but when I look back on my past behavior, I notice that there are two things that I might do when I have a bad day: I either go to a bookstore or to a grocery store.
It might have something to do with the fact that a grocery store is one of the only places I don't feel awkward being alone. In many places, coffee shops, restaurants, movie theaters, etc., I feel awkward when I am by myself. I feel like I'm on display, like my aloneness is something that other people take notice of and scrutinize me for. But for some reason, bookstores and groccery stores don't make me feel that way. There is also the subtle act of picking out food. I like picking out the things that I will eat that night or that week, carefully choosing between different cuts of meats, different cheeses, different lunchmeats, and even between various snackfoods. There is something comforting about it, like putting order to chaos. Some people clean when they want to feel better -- the act of putting your life in order is comforting. Me? I like picking out food. And perhaps the most interesting part of that idea is that I like picking out healthy food. I enjoy putting together natural ensembles -- meat, cheese, fruit, vegetables, grains.
I become more calm after a trip to Publix. I don't know if it became my favorite grocery store before or after I worked there but the favoritism has remained. Maybe it started at some point when I was in middle school. Every Sunday afternoon around 4 or 5 my mom and I would do the family's grocery shopping together. I'm sure I was the one who ended up going because I was the easiest to cajole into the trip. And after a while it became a pattern, a habit. Plus, I learned that if I made the trip each week, I had the power to help choose the family meals and snacks. As a reward for going with her, my mom always let me pick things for my own lunch that my parents would ordinarily have said was unnecessary or too expensive. Suddenly the expensive butter cookies dipped in chocolate were no longer off limits. I could pick the lunch meat. And when we got home, I would try to see how many bags of grocceries I could carry in each trip from the car to the house, always trying to limit myself to two.
Maybe those repetitious trips to Publix have transitioned themselves into a comforting habit. But I know that I always feel better after I buy groceries. Not quite as good as when I buy books but then, how could food ever compete with books?
It might have something to do with the fact that a grocery store is one of the only places I don't feel awkward being alone. In many places, coffee shops, restaurants, movie theaters, etc., I feel awkward when I am by myself. I feel like I'm on display, like my aloneness is something that other people take notice of and scrutinize me for. But for some reason, bookstores and groccery stores don't make me feel that way. There is also the subtle act of picking out food. I like picking out the things that I will eat that night or that week, carefully choosing between different cuts of meats, different cheeses, different lunchmeats, and even between various snackfoods. There is something comforting about it, like putting order to chaos. Some people clean when they want to feel better -- the act of putting your life in order is comforting. Me? I like picking out food. And perhaps the most interesting part of that idea is that I like picking out healthy food. I enjoy putting together natural ensembles -- meat, cheese, fruit, vegetables, grains.
I become more calm after a trip to Publix. I don't know if it became my favorite grocery store before or after I worked there but the favoritism has remained. Maybe it started at some point when I was in middle school. Every Sunday afternoon around 4 or 5 my mom and I would do the family's grocery shopping together. I'm sure I was the one who ended up going because I was the easiest to cajole into the trip. And after a while it became a pattern, a habit. Plus, I learned that if I made the trip each week, I had the power to help choose the family meals and snacks. As a reward for going with her, my mom always let me pick things for my own lunch that my parents would ordinarily have said was unnecessary or too expensive. Suddenly the expensive butter cookies dipped in chocolate were no longer off limits. I could pick the lunch meat. And when we got home, I would try to see how many bags of grocceries I could carry in each trip from the car to the house, always trying to limit myself to two.
Maybe those repetitious trips to Publix have transitioned themselves into a comforting habit. But I know that I always feel better after I buy groceries. Not quite as good as when I buy books but then, how could food ever compete with books?
One Minute Writer
Today's Writing Prompt: One Minute
If you could have just one perfect minute today, what would it consist of?
...
I hate picking just one thing. Perhaps I have too many facets of my life or I over-analyze too much. I also vassilate between the possible and the impossible, the dreamer in me always wanting what I can't have or an object of fantasy. In my perfect minute I could fly. Or I could talk with my grandmother who has passed away and was a third parent to me. I could pray and have a demonstration simply from the idea that God is love. I could be in a room assembled with all my friends who live away from me, just smiling and hugging and being happy in each others' presence. I could have a crazy minute where I am drinking the best mocha I've ever had from Alaska, I write a few perfect lines of a poem, I tell everyone I love that I love the while having a massage therapist rub the deep tissue knots in my back while sailing on a yacht in an ocean in the caribbean that has that exquisite blue-green water....
But mostly, I think I would rather just hold someone and be held. Not necessarily in a romantic way, just holding. The physical act communicating anything. I could be a family member or a friend or someone I'm romantically involved with but it doesn't really matter WHO. There is no one person in my life who encapsulates all my ideas of love but I would like that one minute to be with someone who can represent all the others.
...
The blog where I find these daily writing prompts is engineered to make people write for literally a minute every day. And while I need help disciplining myself to write every day, once I get going, a minute is not enough.
Beth, Russ, and I were driving to Chick-fil-a on Saturday to get milkshakes in the midst of watching the SEC championship game and bewailing the idea of UF playing in the national championship. The topic came up of what was everyone's favorite movie. And I realized I still don't have one. I can't nail down everything that I love about movies in one movie. Every time I think I've picked one, another one comes to mind. I could maybe pick a top 5. I'm the same way about music and books. Some books appeal to my childhood and childlike ways. Some keep me entertained. Some are so beautifully written they make me cry. But just pick one? I love them all too much....
Top 10 movies (in no particular order)
-What Dreams May Come
-When Harry Met Sally
-Meet Joe Black
-Stranger Than Fiction
-Stargate
-Singing in the Rain
-The Matrix
-Shawshank Redemption
-Amelie
-Bed of Roses
Honorable Mention: Contact, Howl's Moving Castle, Sense and Sensibility, Big, The Godfather
Top 10 Books (in no particular order)
-Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
-The Alchemist by Paul Coelho
-Science and Health With Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy
-A Little Princess by Francis Hodges Barnett
-In Her Shoes by Jennifer Weiner
-Twilight by Stephanie Meyer
-The Bridge Across Forever by Richard Bach
-Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
-The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone
-The Small Rain by Madeline L'engle
Honorable Mention: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffeneggar, A Ring of Endless Light as well as A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'engle, All 4 Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books by Ann Brashares, The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan
It always seemed a better way to judge people by what they liked than by what they said. When people tell me something is their favorite whatever, I wonder what it is that spoke to them so clearly. Not that I don't understand why that was their favorite, but that I want to know WHY it is their favorite. I'm going around in a circle, I know, but I want to know why it spoke to them so that I know a true part of them as opposed to who they might be pretending to be....
Blah! Way too wordy and sloppily written. If you can determine why something is someone's favorite something, you can help determine who or a part of who they are.
There. Better.
If you could have just one perfect minute today, what would it consist of?
...
I hate picking just one thing. Perhaps I have too many facets of my life or I over-analyze too much. I also vassilate between the possible and the impossible, the dreamer in me always wanting what I can't have or an object of fantasy. In my perfect minute I could fly. Or I could talk with my grandmother who has passed away and was a third parent to me. I could pray and have a demonstration simply from the idea that God is love. I could be in a room assembled with all my friends who live away from me, just smiling and hugging and being happy in each others' presence. I could have a crazy minute where I am drinking the best mocha I've ever had from Alaska, I write a few perfect lines of a poem, I tell everyone I love that I love the while having a massage therapist rub the deep tissue knots in my back while sailing on a yacht in an ocean in the caribbean that has that exquisite blue-green water....
But mostly, I think I would rather just hold someone and be held. Not necessarily in a romantic way, just holding. The physical act communicating anything. I could be a family member or a friend or someone I'm romantically involved with but it doesn't really matter WHO. There is no one person in my life who encapsulates all my ideas of love but I would like that one minute to be with someone who can represent all the others.
...
The blog where I find these daily writing prompts is engineered to make people write for literally a minute every day. And while I need help disciplining myself to write every day, once I get going, a minute is not enough.
Beth, Russ, and I were driving to Chick-fil-a on Saturday to get milkshakes in the midst of watching the SEC championship game and bewailing the idea of UF playing in the national championship. The topic came up of what was everyone's favorite movie. And I realized I still don't have one. I can't nail down everything that I love about movies in one movie. Every time I think I've picked one, another one comes to mind. I could maybe pick a top 5. I'm the same way about music and books. Some books appeal to my childhood and childlike ways. Some keep me entertained. Some are so beautifully written they make me cry. But just pick one? I love them all too much....
Top 10 movies (in no particular order)
-What Dreams May Come
-When Harry Met Sally
-Meet Joe Black
-Stranger Than Fiction
-Stargate
-Singing in the Rain
-The Matrix
-Shawshank Redemption
-Amelie
-Bed of Roses
Honorable Mention: Contact, Howl's Moving Castle, Sense and Sensibility, Big, The Godfather
Top 10 Books (in no particular order)
-Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
-The Alchemist by Paul Coelho
-Science and Health With Key to the Scriptures by Mary Baker Eddy
-A Little Princess by Francis Hodges Barnett
-In Her Shoes by Jennifer Weiner
-Twilight by Stephanie Meyer
-The Bridge Across Forever by Richard Bach
-Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
-The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone
-The Small Rain by Madeline L'engle
Honorable Mention: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffeneggar, A Ring of Endless Light as well as A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'engle, All 4 Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books by Ann Brashares, The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan
It always seemed a better way to judge people by what they liked than by what they said. When people tell me something is their favorite whatever, I wonder what it is that spoke to them so clearly. Not that I don't understand why that was their favorite, but that I want to know WHY it is their favorite. I'm going around in a circle, I know, but I want to know why it spoke to them so that I know a true part of them as opposed to who they might be pretending to be....
Blah! Way too wordy and sloppily written. If you can determine why something is someone's favorite something, you can help determine who or a part of who they are.
There. Better.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Christmasy Post
I'm known around the office as the gift wrapper. Don't get me wrong, that's not my nickname. People just know I wrap presents at Christmastime in my office. Two people, right after each other as I was walking around with folders, asked me if I was wrapping presents this year.
I have a round table in my office with an extra chair and as work inevitably slows down in December, I wrap presents. I bring in all the Christmas gifts that I give to anyone and I wrap them here. I also wrap presents for others. I LOVE wrapping presents. This year I am also sending Christmas cards. Tomorrow I'm bringing in my large supply of wrapping paper and boxes and boxes of Christmas cards and I'm getting my Christmas on.
[Auck, I'm such an awkward writer these days. I'm spitting out cliches like they're going out of sty.... you get the point.]
But hooray for Christmas! I've got almost all my shopping done already. I know, I'm one of those people everyone else hates. Don't worry, it's not a virtue in me. I loathe shopping around Christmas time in stores. I will do anything to avoid it, including starting my shopping in July. Plus, now I won't double over in pain at my credit card bill in January....
This is Alison, your resident gift wrapper, signing off for now. Merry Christmas!
I have a round table in my office with an extra chair and as work inevitably slows down in December, I wrap presents. I bring in all the Christmas gifts that I give to anyone and I wrap them here. I also wrap presents for others. I LOVE wrapping presents. This year I am also sending Christmas cards. Tomorrow I'm bringing in my large supply of wrapping paper and boxes and boxes of Christmas cards and I'm getting my Christmas on.
[Auck, I'm such an awkward writer these days. I'm spitting out cliches like they're going out of sty.... you get the point.]
But hooray for Christmas! I've got almost all my shopping done already. I know, I'm one of those people everyone else hates. Don't worry, it's not a virtue in me. I loathe shopping around Christmas time in stores. I will do anything to avoid it, including starting my shopping in July. Plus, now I won't double over in pain at my credit card bill in January....
This is Alison, your resident gift wrapper, signing off for now. Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Rusty
I'm a rusty writer these days. I struggle just to get down basic details, nevermind paint a beautiful picture with the English language. I am reading more, however, which is always a good start. Time and time again I hear writers proclaim that you can only write if you read -- there is no other way.
I'll admit -- this was easier on livejournal. I could talk about anything. There was that handy litle setting that let me control who could see the entries and who couldn't. So if Philip was the only person I trusted with the information, he was the only one that could see it. If I was frustrated about something in the sorority but didn't want anyone in the sorority to hear me vent in a public forum, I would pick all my friends with livejournal accounts who weren't in the sorority. The main point is that there was always a way to limit who would see it.
I don't have that here, which is good. If I can't write something that everyone can see, then I'm not really much of a writer. It requires backbone, really, being honest with anyone who happens to come by here and read this. And even if this post is so rudimentary in thought that I will look back on it in 2 years and groan, I should make it anyway. This is what I'm thinking about; this is what I'm trying to break through.
I've noticed that friendships for me do not last forever. They do not end in proverbial flames or gigantic fights; my groups of friends just shift. One day I look up and everything is different. I've noticed I seem to be hitting that 4-year mark again. Some friendships have already changed. There is hope, I suppose, in the fact that I've always managed to find friends, that I meet new people when other people leave my life. Cycles can be comforting; the idea that you've been here before and you'll be here again. A strange coming home. There was a quote I found once, something about history repeating itself over again and again. I would insert it here if I remebered who said it or the particular phrasing. I think the main difference between this quote and others with similar sentiment is that it wasn't a negative thought. It wasn't James Joyce....
Sometimes I just wish life didn't have to change this drastically. But some remain. I don't lose all my friends. It just bothers me that there is a cycle, as if it is something controlled.
Tristan & Isolde is on tv at the moment -- I realize I rented it a long time ago but never finished it. I would imagine there is a sad ending involved. Good love stories are exquisite but rarely happy; their beauty brightened by loss or sadness. Would love stories be told so often if they were all happy?
I wonder what I would have been like several centuries ago, if I would have been a submissive, obeying woman. Would I have been forced to marry a man I didn't love? Would I have a had a tragic or happy love story? Would I have felt the need to follow the conventions of society? Would I have cared what they were?
Silly questions, I suppose. But they're what I think of when I watch this movie.
I'll admit -- this was easier on livejournal. I could talk about anything. There was that handy litle setting that let me control who could see the entries and who couldn't. So if Philip was the only person I trusted with the information, he was the only one that could see it. If I was frustrated about something in the sorority but didn't want anyone in the sorority to hear me vent in a public forum, I would pick all my friends with livejournal accounts who weren't in the sorority. The main point is that there was always a way to limit who would see it.
I don't have that here, which is good. If I can't write something that everyone can see, then I'm not really much of a writer. It requires backbone, really, being honest with anyone who happens to come by here and read this. And even if this post is so rudimentary in thought that I will look back on it in 2 years and groan, I should make it anyway. This is what I'm thinking about; this is what I'm trying to break through.
I've noticed that friendships for me do not last forever. They do not end in proverbial flames or gigantic fights; my groups of friends just shift. One day I look up and everything is different. I've noticed I seem to be hitting that 4-year mark again. Some friendships have already changed. There is hope, I suppose, in the fact that I've always managed to find friends, that I meet new people when other people leave my life. Cycles can be comforting; the idea that you've been here before and you'll be here again. A strange coming home. There was a quote I found once, something about history repeating itself over again and again. I would insert it here if I remebered who said it or the particular phrasing. I think the main difference between this quote and others with similar sentiment is that it wasn't a negative thought. It wasn't James Joyce....
Sometimes I just wish life didn't have to change this drastically. But some remain. I don't lose all my friends. It just bothers me that there is a cycle, as if it is something controlled.
Tristan & Isolde is on tv at the moment -- I realize I rented it a long time ago but never finished it. I would imagine there is a sad ending involved. Good love stories are exquisite but rarely happy; their beauty brightened by loss or sadness. Would love stories be told so often if they were all happy?
I wonder what I would have been like several centuries ago, if I would have been a submissive, obeying woman. Would I have been forced to marry a man I didn't love? Would I have a had a tragic or happy love story? Would I have felt the need to follow the conventions of society? Would I have cared what they were?
Silly questions, I suppose. But they're what I think of when I watch this movie.
Surveys and Giftwrapping
Saturday I woke up extra early to take a very long MARTA ride into the city to administer surveys to the SEC championship football crowd at the World Congress Center. In addition to being paid, I also received a haught baseball-style Chick-fil-a shirt. Catherine and I pestered patrons about their milkshakes, promising them $5 Chick-fil-a gift cards if they took the time to fill out our surveys. Lots of fun. Perhaps the best part of the morning was interacting with UF fans that aren't insanely rude and mean....
Today I was at the Barnes & Noble at the Forum in Norcross wrapping presents to raise money for Good Mews. It was people interaction weekend apparently. I had fun chatting up the people who came to the table and wrapping a few presents slowly while Glenda and Shannon wrapped presents like it was going out of style. They apparently didn't like doing the whole schpeil about the shelter and the random conversations -- I was happy to oblige with my constant chatter and maven-like support of things I like.
I was happy to do the gift wrapping and I enjoy volunteering at Good Mews, but does anyone else know of a good nonprofit to get involved with? I find myself wishing I was involved with more. A simple google search will provide me with countless options but I want to hear some personal recomendations.
Today I was at the Barnes & Noble at the Forum in Norcross wrapping presents to raise money for Good Mews. It was people interaction weekend apparently. I had fun chatting up the people who came to the table and wrapping a few presents slowly while Glenda and Shannon wrapped presents like it was going out of style. They apparently didn't like doing the whole schpeil about the shelter and the random conversations -- I was happy to oblige with my constant chatter and maven-like support of things I like.
I was happy to do the gift wrapping and I enjoy volunteering at Good Mews, but does anyone else know of a good nonprofit to get involved with? I find myself wishing I was involved with more. A simple google search will provide me with countless options but I want to hear some personal recomendations.
Friday, December 5, 2008
One-Minute Writer: Design
Today's Writing Prompt: Design
You are designing your own house. Describe it.
My home would fit into the landscape of the land it's on -- it fit continulous into the land instead of just sitting on top of it. It would be made of brick or stone -- something that looks natural. There would be a host of windows and a porch on the roof. At least one large bay window will be on the side with a large window seat, perfect for reading in. There will be a few "open" rooms with ceilings that stretch to the 2nd story but in general, there are hallways instead of continuous openness. Sound carries too well in houses that are entirely open. There are built in bookshelves in places that make sense instead of places where the television should be. A few stretches of hardwood floors but mostly carpet with a little tile thrown in.
At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter. It just has to feel like a home. I have so many ideas of what I would like my home to be and what sort of decorative features it may have. There's a difference between a welcoming place and an unwelcoming one. I want to feel comfortable where I live. This may seem like an obvious idea but.... I'm willing to put the work into it.
You are designing your own house. Describe it.
My home would fit into the landscape of the land it's on -- it fit continulous into the land instead of just sitting on top of it. It would be made of brick or stone -- something that looks natural. There would be a host of windows and a porch on the roof. At least one large bay window will be on the side with a large window seat, perfect for reading in. There will be a few "open" rooms with ceilings that stretch to the 2nd story but in general, there are hallways instead of continuous openness. Sound carries too well in houses that are entirely open. There are built in bookshelves in places that make sense instead of places where the television should be. A few stretches of hardwood floors but mostly carpet with a little tile thrown in.
At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter. It just has to feel like a home. I have so many ideas of what I would like my home to be and what sort of decorative features it may have. There's a difference between a welcoming place and an unwelcoming one. I want to feel comfortable where I live. This may seem like an obvious idea but.... I'm willing to put the work into it.
Brandi Carlile in Kentucky!
Hey, who wants to go to the Brandi Carlile concert with the Kentucky symphony in February????
She and Sondre Lerche are performing with the Louisville Symphony!!! Tickets could be as low as $25. Plus, you get the wonderful company of fabulous me....
Click on the link in the title for more info.
She and Sondre Lerche are performing with the Louisville Symphony!!! Tickets could be as low as $25. Plus, you get the wonderful company of fabulous me....
Click on the link in the title for more info.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Fish
For someone who grew up only eating Gordon's Fishermen fillets and popcorn shrimp at Red Lobster, I'm eating a lot of fish lately. Tuesday night I had sushi (smoked salmon, raw salmon, raw tuna), last night I had lemon pepper tilapia, and tonight I believe I'm having pecan-encrusted tilapia.
Now I just want more sushi. Anyone have a favorite sushi place in Atlanta? Anyone want to eat sushi with me sometime? Or fish? Or steak.... (I still need to go back to Texas Roadhouse -- it's been way too long.)
If it's not already obvious, not only have I been noticing how much fish I've been eating lately but I also am ravenously hungry. I can't get away from it. Maybe I should consider eating a full breakfast.... one more reason to wake up early. I could even create a whole system where I get up, go do some sort of physical exercise, eat a good breakfast while watching The West Wing (which I discovered yesterday comes on at 8 and 9 AM every weekday). It could happen, right? This is the time that I need a roomate. Someone to do this with because I have trouble motiviating myself to wake up when I'm alone.
But fish -- for some reason, I have all kinds of motivation about fish....
Now I just want more sushi. Anyone have a favorite sushi place in Atlanta? Anyone want to eat sushi with me sometime? Or fish? Or steak.... (I still need to go back to Texas Roadhouse -- it's been way too long.)
If it's not already obvious, not only have I been noticing how much fish I've been eating lately but I also am ravenously hungry. I can't get away from it. Maybe I should consider eating a full breakfast.... one more reason to wake up early. I could even create a whole system where I get up, go do some sort of physical exercise, eat a good breakfast while watching The West Wing (which I discovered yesterday comes on at 8 and 9 AM every weekday). It could happen, right? This is the time that I need a roomate. Someone to do this with because I have trouble motiviating myself to wake up when I'm alone.
But fish -- for some reason, I have all kinds of motivation about fish....
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Putting the "distance" back in "Long-Distance Relationship"
Beth is leaving. This is not a surprise it just never really gets any easier. I'm so happy for Beth that she found her right place and that she will be in TX but.... I wish she wouldn't move. I don't begrudge her one growing/stupendous/fantastic experience that she will experience. I just wish she didn't have to do it so far away from where I am.
Jordan and I were talking about this recently, how difficult it is to create a new network for friends sans the college experience. I think part of the reason it is so hard is that you didn't choose to leave your other friends. You didn't drift apart (yet), you only moved further away in distance. There are people you know you would remain very close with if they were within an hour's drive of you.
My friends have scattered and scattered good. Philip ran all the way to Alaska to get away from me (love you Sparky); Phil is in Durham (sp?); Lyndsey DC; Jordan Colmbia, SC; Rob Viriginia; Laura Boston; Jen Newport Beach, CA; Toby Ann Arbor, MI; Brad LSU; Courtney, for all intents and purposes, Chattanooga; Chris has almost moved away several times for work; Christy and Alden Houston, TX; Jen Australia; Elspeth Germany....
It's actually a little strange that I haven't left Georgia yet. It wasn't really my intention to say, this just happened to be where I found a job I really enjoy. And the rest of sort of followed....
I'm listening to Sarah Blasko at the moment. She has yet to become magical but we shall see....
There was a point to this but I got distracted by honest-to-goodness work that just came across my desk and now I have forgotten. Ah well.
Couldn't have been that important -- people move. It's sad. The end.
Jordan and I were talking about this recently, how difficult it is to create a new network for friends sans the college experience. I think part of the reason it is so hard is that you didn't choose to leave your other friends. You didn't drift apart (yet), you only moved further away in distance. There are people you know you would remain very close with if they were within an hour's drive of you.
My friends have scattered and scattered good. Philip ran all the way to Alaska to get away from me (love you Sparky); Phil is in Durham (sp?); Lyndsey DC; Jordan Colmbia, SC; Rob Viriginia; Laura Boston; Jen Newport Beach, CA; Toby Ann Arbor, MI; Brad LSU; Courtney, for all intents and purposes, Chattanooga; Chris has almost moved away several times for work; Christy and Alden Houston, TX; Jen Australia; Elspeth Germany....
It's actually a little strange that I haven't left Georgia yet. It wasn't really my intention to say, this just happened to be where I found a job I really enjoy. And the rest of sort of followed....
I'm listening to Sarah Blasko at the moment. She has yet to become magical but we shall see....
There was a point to this but I got distracted by honest-to-goodness work that just came across my desk and now I have forgotten. Ah well.
Couldn't have been that important -- people move. It's sad. The end.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Music You Have to Become Acquainted With
Some songs are magical the first time you listen to them. You have to find out who the song is by and what album and why you've never heard it before because this is what's been missing in your life all this time. Other music requires time. It may take only a second listening or several more, but then it's just as good as other music you love.
Guster was like that for me. Laura came home from a John Mayer concert freshman year of college and told me I HAD to download music from Guster because she'd just seen them live and they were amazing. Laura and I generally have the same taste in music, so I found some Guster. On first listen, I was unimpressed. It sounded.... flat. But I kept the music on my winamp playlist and they came on in the background while I was studying. After a few weeks, I found myself singing along to these Guster songs. I looked up, surprised, when I realized I was doing it and I realized I liked the songs. Not just liked, loved. I could play them over and over and over again, singing along. Guster tends to sing with 2- and 3-part harmony and so I found various melodies and harmonies to enjoy. The bongo drums from Lost and Gone Forever were magical too. These guys love to sing.
Lately, I've found the same with Mieka Pauley. I went to a Josh Joplin concert with Toby and Erich several months ago and she opened at Eddie's Attic. She was amazing live -- just her and her guitar. And her cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah was aweinspiring. I'm not kidding -- I was floored. I bought her album and a separate CD of some acoustic versions of songs but when I listened to them in my car they didn't compare to the live performance to me. The magic was missing. I loved parts of them but.... they didn't speak to me the same way. I'm stubborn, however, and put her entire album on my iPod and stick it on sometimes when I'm proofing something at work. It was like falling in love with Guster all over again. She's playing in my office right now and I love the songs -- how familiar they seem, the rhythms, the different tones of her voice, etc. I LOVE her now on her album just as much as I loved her in person.
This is a good lesson to remember in other areas of life. I've learned to like all sorts of foods that used to be anathema to me: avacado, sushi, green peppers, spicy things, shrimp, just to name a few. They were the same way they had always been; I just took the time to become aquainted with them.
I need to remember this with people I don't like. You never know when you will discover someone magical.
Guster was like that for me. Laura came home from a John Mayer concert freshman year of college and told me I HAD to download music from Guster because she'd just seen them live and they were amazing. Laura and I generally have the same taste in music, so I found some Guster. On first listen, I was unimpressed. It sounded.... flat. But I kept the music on my winamp playlist and they came on in the background while I was studying. After a few weeks, I found myself singing along to these Guster songs. I looked up, surprised, when I realized I was doing it and I realized I liked the songs. Not just liked, loved. I could play them over and over and over again, singing along. Guster tends to sing with 2- and 3-part harmony and so I found various melodies and harmonies to enjoy. The bongo drums from Lost and Gone Forever were magical too. These guys love to sing.
Lately, I've found the same with Mieka Pauley. I went to a Josh Joplin concert with Toby and Erich several months ago and she opened at Eddie's Attic. She was amazing live -- just her and her guitar. And her cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah was aweinspiring. I'm not kidding -- I was floored. I bought her album and a separate CD of some acoustic versions of songs but when I listened to them in my car they didn't compare to the live performance to me. The magic was missing. I loved parts of them but.... they didn't speak to me the same way. I'm stubborn, however, and put her entire album on my iPod and stick it on sometimes when I'm proofing something at work. It was like falling in love with Guster all over again. She's playing in my office right now and I love the songs -- how familiar they seem, the rhythms, the different tones of her voice, etc. I LOVE her now on her album just as much as I loved her in person.
This is a good lesson to remember in other areas of life. I've learned to like all sorts of foods that used to be anathema to me: avacado, sushi, green peppers, spicy things, shrimp, just to name a few. They were the same way they had always been; I just took the time to become aquainted with them.
I need to remember this with people I don't like. You never know when you will discover someone magical.
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