I was volunteering last night for a program the Lexington Art League is doing with Lexington Habitat for Humanity. I'm pretty sure both organizations LOVE me because I have been "that drunk dancing girl" at events both have hosted. (Remember that, Sarah? What a blast!)
Anyway, the thing last night was for kids of adults who are going to get homes. While the homeowners are learning about budgeting and home maintenance and stuff like that, the kids get to come and make art for a little while. There were probably a dozen kids in the class, maybe more, all different ages. It turns out that a lot of them are Congo refugees... and knowing that fact should have told me to keep my mouth shut. Tightly.
But I didn't. I just couldn't help it. They were just too cute and too fun and too charming, and I was all gaga for their long eyelashes and extraordinary names. And then it started.
I was sitting next to one little boy, 5 years old, old enough to have memories of what made his family flee Congo, and he was smiling and having a great time. So what do I say?
"Is this torture or what?"
Really, Amber?!! Torture!! What is wrong with you?!!
Even with a creepy wink tacked onto my delivery, even with the American-infused sarcasm mingling with the words, it was so... so... ugh. An ugh made worse by the silence that fell over the entire room at just the right moment to guarantee that everyone heard the word torture.
I wish I could say things got better from there and that I was able to use my mind/mouth filter more effectively as the night went on, but that'd be a lie.
I watched them draw planes and trucks and helicopters and stoplights and wondered how much their recent refugee relocation effort influenced their art and how much of it had more to do with their age and gender than their life experience. I thought about these things, silently in my head, but that internal reflection evaporated the minute I fell into the trap of interaction.
As the class was winding down, we packed up the art supplies and had to fill the last few minutes with an activity of some kind. The instructor suggested we have a staring contest, and I decided to add some enthusiasm and intensity to the event by providing commentary.
I'm pretty sure I said the word WAR about 29 times. And now, instead of art class, 13 young refugees need therapy for PTSD, sparked by a volunteer with a defective filtering mechanism.
Showing posts with label wha?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wha?. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Four Solid Years
I just realized that today, like this actual day, marks the start of my fifth year of blogging.
Four years done, completely... 411 random ramblings about what I'm doing... hundreds of hours spent in this strange little life archive thing I've got going on.
That's a shocking degree of commitment to something created from a misunderstanding. I hope it's been as fun for you, all five of you, as it's been for me.
Four years done, completely... 411 random ramblings about what I'm doing... hundreds of hours spent in this strange little life archive thing I've got going on.
That's a shocking degree of commitment to something created from a misunderstanding. I hope it's been as fun for you, all five of you, as it's been for me.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Potty Talk
It's toddler potty training time in our family! Which means that as an aunt, I have to assume responsibility if I'm the only adult around when a kid says they need to use the potty even if I have no idea about the potty routine!
For instance, there was that one time Ben went to go potty and said I had to hold it. I lifted up his shirt thinking it was in his way and thus qualified as the "it" that needed holding, but he whined that wasn't right. I asked again what he needed me to hold, he gave another whiny ambiguous answer, and we shared a very confusing moment in potty training history. I called his mom to ask what was up with holding Ben's boy part for him when he peed, and she was like, "Uhhh, we don't do that. Don't know where he got that. But thanks?"
Which is why I'm glad kids don't form lasting memories until they're 3.
Somewhat related but too cute to pass up, Ben got new big boy panties for Christmas and was so excited he put them on as soon as he opened the package... outside of his jammies. Don't they just look great with his new Buzz Lightyear shoes???
Renee is also potty training, but since I'm a girl and know how to potty, there's less confusion with her. Except when it comes to her reading material.
When she told me she needed the green book, I said okay, got up and went and looked in the toys for a green book. Coming up blank, I brought her a different one about happy farm animals.
Turns out she wanted the copy of Crime & Punishment sitting on the back of the toilet.
Figures. While Ben sat on the floor reading the farm animal book like a normal 3-year-old, Renee voluntarily skimmed some Dostoyevsky, like a normal Doctor of Russian Literature.
These babies. Teaching me more than college ever tried to and making me feel completely unprepared and moronic.
For instance, there was that one time Ben went to go potty and said I had to hold it. I lifted up his shirt thinking it was in his way and thus qualified as the "it" that needed holding, but he whined that wasn't right. I asked again what he needed me to hold, he gave another whiny ambiguous answer, and we shared a very confusing moment in potty training history. I called his mom to ask what was up with holding Ben's boy part for him when he peed, and she was like, "Uhhh, we don't do that. Don't know where he got that. But thanks?"
Which is why I'm glad kids don't form lasting memories until they're 3.
Somewhat related but too cute to pass up, Ben got new big boy panties for Christmas and was so excited he put them on as soon as he opened the package... outside of his jammies. Don't they just look great with his new Buzz Lightyear shoes???
Renee is also potty training, but since I'm a girl and know how to potty, there's less confusion with her. Except when it comes to her reading material.When she told me she needed the green book, I said okay, got up and went and looked in the toys for a green book. Coming up blank, I brought her a different one about happy farm animals.
Turns out she wanted the copy of Crime & Punishment sitting on the back of the toilet.
Figures. While Ben sat on the floor reading the farm animal book like a normal 3-year-old, Renee voluntarily skimmed some Dostoyevsky, like a normal Doctor of Russian Literature.
These babies. Teaching me more than college ever tried to and making me feel completely unprepared and moronic.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
It's basically the biggest elevator in the world.
Laila and I went to LA County Museum of Art yesterday while Mack listened to boring med school lectures. I've visited this museum a handful of times, enough that I'm starting to feel like I've run into an old friend when I see that piece of the man and the woman from Picasso's blue period, but they've added a building full of contemporary art since I left LA and I was dying to see the art inside.
We rode this giant escalator up to the third floor and went inside to an enormous room full of work by Jeff Koons and Andy Warhol. Then we walked through a lifetime of work by Joseph Beuys, a member of Hitler's Youth who ultimately became a revolutionary art professor and environmentalist. And then we took in an entire floor full of self-portraits from a private collection.
After a couple hours, we were getting tired, so we pushed the elevator button to head back up to the third floor to exit. One of the gallery attendants asked us if we preferred to use the new elevator, and after stepping back a few feet, we realized that the giant glass wall next to us was actually an elevator door.
"It's the biggest elevator in the world," she said.
"Yes, please," we replied, turning our noses up at the piddly little familiar elevator we were standing in front of.
The wall parted and we scooted into an elevator as big as an elementary school stage. We had the entire place to ourselves, so we made some impromptu sort-of-self-portraits to commemorate the day we experienced the biggest elevator the world has ever known.
And just to prove how big it is, here's a shot from floor to ceiling, with Laila for scale.
We rode this giant escalator up to the third floor and went inside to an enormous room full of work by Jeff Koons and Andy Warhol. Then we walked through a lifetime of work by Joseph Beuys, a member of Hitler's Youth who ultimately became a revolutionary art professor and environmentalist. And then we took in an entire floor full of self-portraits from a private collection.
After a couple hours, we were getting tired, so we pushed the elevator button to head back up to the third floor to exit. One of the gallery attendants asked us if we preferred to use the new elevator, and after stepping back a few feet, we realized that the giant glass wall next to us was actually an elevator door.
"It's the biggest elevator in the world," she said.
"Yes, please," we replied, turning our noses up at the piddly little familiar elevator we were standing in front of.
The wall parted and we scooted into an elevator as big as an elementary school stage. We had the entire place to ourselves, so we made some impromptu sort-of-self-portraits to commemorate the day we experienced the biggest elevator the world has ever known.
And just to prove how big it is, here's a shot from floor to ceiling, with Laila for scale.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
It's getting scary in here...
I am not blogging because, in case you haven't noticed, IT'S FREAKING HALLOWEEN!!!
Also, we went to the lake house last weekend. And I had a test today. And tonight I'm carving pumpkins with two of the best babies in the entire world. And I've been very busy putting spider webs on everything with a sharp corner. And it's horror movie month on SyFy. And something happened to Billy Bell and he isn't on So You Think You Can Dance and I want to know what illness he got exactly...
To tide you over until next time, ponder this.
Also, we went to the lake house last weekend. And I had a test today. And tonight I'm carving pumpkins with two of the best babies in the entire world. And I've been very busy putting spider webs on everything with a sharp corner. And it's horror movie month on SyFy. And something happened to Billy Bell and he isn't on So You Think You Can Dance and I want to know what illness he got exactly...
To tide you over until next time, ponder this.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I think it's called association...
I'm learning about electrons and reduction and oxidation and covalent bonds and polarity. Which is to say that I'm learning funny little shortcuts like "the story of the lion"... wherein if you Lose Electrons there's Oxidation (LEO) and if you Gain Electrons there's Reduction (GER).
Those funny little shortcuts made me remember these photos of white tigers that I stumbled across recently on the book of magical things known as the Internet, and if this whole thing isn't the universe's way of telling me to go on safari, I don't know what is.
a National Geographic photo of the day of a diving tiger
Those funny little shortcuts made me remember these photos of white tigers that I stumbled across recently on the book of magical things known as the Internet, and if this whole thing isn't the universe's way of telling me to go on safari, I don't know what is.
a National Geographic photo of the day of a diving tiger
a retarded tiger... I never really thought about a retarded tiger before
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
If a tree falls downtown during a thunderstorm and traps a girl, why don't I hear it?
During the storm that turned High Street into an urban river today, I propped open the front door and watched the cars raft past my house. The lightning took that as an invitation to come into the living room, so I ended up holding my computer in my arms and my phone in my hand and looking out the door from the hallway. Basically, I looked tough.
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While the rain tore through town, the newsroom people and meteorologists on TV tried to relay that it was freaking serious but there was no cause for alarm. Also that rush hour in Stamping Ground was really going to blow and that a girl was trapped in her car after a tree fell on it while she was driving down East High Street.
What? I'd been staring at East High Street for the last 30 minutes and I'd missed that?!
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Apparently so.
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While the rain tore through town, the newsroom people and meteorologists on TV tried to relay that it was freaking serious but there was no cause for alarm. Also that rush hour in Stamping Ground was really going to blow and that a girl was trapped in her car after a tree fell on it while she was driving down East High Street.What? I'd been staring at East High Street for the last 30 minutes and I'd missed that?!
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Apparently so.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Holy Freaking Boring
Wake up, sometime between 9:30am and 1pm.
Take care of responsibilities such as washing dishes, watering tomatoes, brushing teeth, checking email, looking for jobs, listing mini-fridge on Craigslist, etc.
Study fire fans and wish I had even a modicum of dancing intuition.
Make coffee.
Check TiVo suggestions.
Make a giant salad of mixed greens, a cut up tomato, and some intensely delicious salad dressing made by Annie, whoever she is.
Wait for Mack to wake up.
Kick laundry to the corner of the bedroom.
Feel concerned and impressed that we rarely ever have enough for a full load.
Check the mail.
Download podcasts.
Take a walk.
Research cameras, both SLRs and point and shoots.
Secretly wish for more money.
Make popcorn.
Feel annoyed that popcorn always burns in one spot in the middle.
Curse Orville Redenbacher.
Start making noise so Mack wakes up.
Save the lives of snails.
Sweep the porch.
Read Thomas Paine essays.
Have a glass of kefir.
Perform a frontal lobotomy.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Oh, crap.
Look. I know this is gross. Unless it's happening to you and then it is freakin' troubling.
I have a friend who has not taken a crap in 5 days now. This friend of mine is a vegetarian who eats lots of roughage voluntarily and, because she is doing Weight Watchers at the moment, she isn't eating any gut clogging cheese. The other day, after helping her sister move, she went out for Mexican food -- we're talking BEANS EXTRAVANGAZA -- and still, no dookage. If Mexican food doesn't work like Drano on your guts, what will?
Seriously. She has tried everything. Citrucel (twice daily), Miralax, coffee, cigarettes. Even libraries. Nothin.
She's not having any pain with her condition, but she does have her weekly weigh in tomorrow and she's getting a little tired of this bloated gut thing making her pants extra tight. (You'd think tight pants may help get things moving, but they don't.)
Plus, it's just weird to think of all the things you've eaten in a week hanging out in your abdomen like it's some sort of mostly-digested food convention. At least that's what she says.
So please, offer up some suggestions, home remedies, miracle cures, witch doctors, whatever. This girl needs some #2.
I have a friend who has not taken a crap in 5 days now. This friend of mine is a vegetarian who eats lots of roughage voluntarily and, because she is doing Weight Watchers at the moment, she isn't eating any gut clogging cheese. The other day, after helping her sister move, she went out for Mexican food -- we're talking BEANS EXTRAVANGAZA -- and still, no dookage. If Mexican food doesn't work like Drano on your guts, what will?
Seriously. She has tried everything. Citrucel (twice daily), Miralax, coffee, cigarettes. Even libraries. Nothin.
She's not having any pain with her condition, but she does have her weekly weigh in tomorrow and she's getting a little tired of this bloated gut thing making her pants extra tight. (You'd think tight pants may help get things moving, but they don't.)
Plus, it's just weird to think of all the things you've eaten in a week hanging out in your abdomen like it's some sort of mostly-digested food convention. At least that's what she says.
So please, offer up some suggestions, home remedies, miracle cures, witch doctors, whatever. This girl needs some #2.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
On eating your fruits and vegetables.
I went to the grocery store the other day for the second time since moving back to Kentucky, and my god people.
We are two for two for the cashier/bagger remarking on how healthy we eat. Every time they mention it I look down and think, What? You see those powdered donuts there, right? And you rang up the beer, right? And those three bags of chips, you got those? And that Nestle Crunch that I just put in my purse that you handed me?
I think they think we're healthy eaters because we buy fruits and vegetables. Several varieties of fruits and vegetables. Fruits and vegetables that are apparently too exotic to be brought up during cashier training sessions. Fruits and vegetables like eggplant and grapefruit.
I'm not kidding. My last cashier had to ask me what type of orange my grapefruit was.
We try to be healthy eaters. We don't eat meat so we spend that money in the produce department. I try to buy lower fat or higher fiber versions of things as long as they're not overly processed. We read labels and won't buy anything that has trans fats except tortillas because we can't find flour tortillas anywhere that don't have trans fats. We try not to buy things with high fructose corn syrup listed in the first three ingredients. We care about how we feel now and how we'll feel in 20 years, assuming that bus doesn't come along and kill us today, so this little extra effort is important to us.
But are we so consumed with healthy foods that we are exceptional and remarkable? Should our purchases be so out of the ordinary that the cashier makes a comment about them? Are the powdered donuts that are an occasional treat for us a staple for others? If so, America, we have a problem.
We are two for two for the cashier/bagger remarking on how healthy we eat. Every time they mention it I look down and think, What? You see those powdered donuts there, right? And you rang up the beer, right? And those three bags of chips, you got those? And that Nestle Crunch that I just put in my purse that you handed me?
I think they think we're healthy eaters because we buy fruits and vegetables. Several varieties of fruits and vegetables. Fruits and vegetables that are apparently too exotic to be brought up during cashier training sessions. Fruits and vegetables like eggplant and grapefruit.
I'm not kidding. My last cashier had to ask me what type of orange my grapefruit was.
We try to be healthy eaters. We don't eat meat so we spend that money in the produce department. I try to buy lower fat or higher fiber versions of things as long as they're not overly processed. We read labels and won't buy anything that has trans fats except tortillas because we can't find flour tortillas anywhere that don't have trans fats. We try not to buy things with high fructose corn syrup listed in the first three ingredients. We care about how we feel now and how we'll feel in 20 years, assuming that bus doesn't come along and kill us today, so this little extra effort is important to us.
But are we so consumed with healthy foods that we are exceptional and remarkable? Should our purchases be so out of the ordinary that the cashier makes a comment about them? Are the powdered donuts that are an occasional treat for us a staple for others? If so, America, we have a problem.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Okay, Teen Years, end already.
I break out every month when I'm about to get my period, and looking at the mirror this morning I realized that only ONE WEEK PER MONTH am I my normal self. The other weeks, I am, in order:
- bloated with retarded size boobs
- bitchy with pimples and a need to clean and eat ice cream
- having cramps and experiencing the joy of menstruation
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
I dunno... just cool stuff
I've had a few "extra" minutes at work to spend perusing the internet and here are some things I've found that I like.
I Found Your Camera
This satisfies the voyeur in me but is also a great public service. How many times have I left my camera in a cab or at a party only to lose all evidence that the hangover I'm feeling is from me having a memorable time and not from me being stupid? Okay, never, because my camera is more important than my wallet (certainly more valuable). But for the rest of you, now when you lose your camera, there is hope that you'll get it back. And if you're like me and don't or haven't lost your camera, you get to snoop on the private lives of strangers in the name of "helping them." Win, win.
List of the Day
There are no rules for this blog other than to make a list of something each day. On some days, it's The 10 Most Special "Very Special" TV Episodes Of The Day, and on other days, it's an Engrish Roundup, but every day it's funny and makes me jealous because, dammit, my lists are never this good.
Book Inscriptions
I love a book inscription. I think I got this from my mom, who always signs the books she gives me with words that put the actual book to shame, and now whenever I get a book for someone, I try to write on the inside of it. And if someone gives me a book, I usually insist they write a message on it. I also like to use photos or receipts or other little life trinkets as bookmarks while I'm reading them and then store them in books when I'm done. Liz does that too, because when she lent me Love in the Time of Cholera, I used her enclosed bookmark. Just another little personal touch and something to send the imagination over a cliff.
Unnecessary Quotes
Look. I studied journalism in college. I work as an editor. I used to get excited in the 7th grade about diagramming sentences. I watch Cops because I like feeling superior to idiots. Unnecessary Quotes feeds that part of me, alright!
Please Enjoy
A couple years ago a guy I work with stumbled across this site, and when he sent me the link, I read it as Plea Seen Joy. Not only do I stop by this guy's site periodically to get design or branding inspiration, but I also check in to see what incredible DIY social commentary project he's crafted. Be sure to check out the projects if you're feeling like you want to give your vandalism a clever purpose.
JR ART
Surprise! I like photography! I first started following whoever this JR is when he was doing a project called Face 2 Face. He took photos of Israelis in certain occupations (bakers, lawyers, tailors, etc) and then took photos of Palestinians in those same occupations, and then he hung larger than life versions of the photos of the Israelis version and the Palestinian version next to each other in both countries. The goal was to get these people to go, "Hey, they're not that different from me." Since then he's gone all over the world, capturing humanity and putting our similarities front and center, simultaneously showcasing beauty and disgust at the same time and making us ask how can we do this to each other? (Be sure to click on the English version in the top left, unless you just want to let the photos speak for themselves. and be sure to click on Projets to see his body of work so far.) I subscribe to him so now I get email updates and photos, and I'm never disappointed.
The Belly Project
I'm still sussing out how I feel about this one. I like the concept -- women of different ages and life experiences showing the reality of these bodies we inhabit -- but I have to be in the right mood for it. Like the one that comes on days when the Victoria's Secret catalogues show up and I start having a fit of self-loathing. On days like that, this is a handy little collective of gals being real.
F My Life
Props to Amy for turning me on to this one. I'm not sure how many of these are real and how many are made up, but all of them are entertaining and make me feel grateful that this crap hasn't happened to me. So far.
I Found Your Camera
This satisfies the voyeur in me but is also a great public service. How many times have I left my camera in a cab or at a party only to lose all evidence that the hangover I'm feeling is from me having a memorable time and not from me being stupid? Okay, never, because my camera is more important than my wallet (certainly more valuable). But for the rest of you, now when you lose your camera, there is hope that you'll get it back. And if you're like me and don't or haven't lost your camera, you get to snoop on the private lives of strangers in the name of "helping them." Win, win.
List of the Day
There are no rules for this blog other than to make a list of something each day. On some days, it's The 10 Most Special "Very Special" TV Episodes Of The Day, and on other days, it's an Engrish Roundup, but every day it's funny and makes me jealous because, dammit, my lists are never this good.
Book Inscriptions
I love a book inscription. I think I got this from my mom, who always signs the books she gives me with words that put the actual book to shame, and now whenever I get a book for someone, I try to write on the inside of it. And if someone gives me a book, I usually insist they write a message on it. I also like to use photos or receipts or other little life trinkets as bookmarks while I'm reading them and then store them in books when I'm done. Liz does that too, because when she lent me Love in the Time of Cholera, I used her enclosed bookmark. Just another little personal touch and something to send the imagination over a cliff.
Unnecessary Quotes
Look. I studied journalism in college. I work as an editor. I used to get excited in the 7th grade about diagramming sentences. I watch Cops because I like feeling superior to idiots. Unnecessary Quotes feeds that part of me, alright!
Please Enjoy
A couple years ago a guy I work with stumbled across this site, and when he sent me the link, I read it as Plea Seen Joy. Not only do I stop by this guy's site periodically to get design or branding inspiration, but I also check in to see what incredible DIY social commentary project he's crafted. Be sure to check out the projects if you're feeling like you want to give your vandalism a clever purpose.
JR ART
Surprise! I like photography! I first started following whoever this JR is when he was doing a project called Face 2 Face. He took photos of Israelis in certain occupations (bakers, lawyers, tailors, etc) and then took photos of Palestinians in those same occupations, and then he hung larger than life versions of the photos of the Israelis version and the Palestinian version next to each other in both countries. The goal was to get these people to go, "Hey, they're not that different from me." Since then he's gone all over the world, capturing humanity and putting our similarities front and center, simultaneously showcasing beauty and disgust at the same time and making us ask how can we do this to each other? (Be sure to click on the English version in the top left, unless you just want to let the photos speak for themselves. and be sure to click on Projets to see his body of work so far.) I subscribe to him so now I get email updates and photos, and I'm never disappointed.
The Belly Project
I'm still sussing out how I feel about this one. I like the concept -- women of different ages and life experiences showing the reality of these bodies we inhabit -- but I have to be in the right mood for it. Like the one that comes on days when the Victoria's Secret catalogues show up and I start having a fit of self-loathing. On days like that, this is a handy little collective of gals being real.
F My Life
Props to Amy for turning me on to this one. I'm not sure how many of these are real and how many are made up, but all of them are entertaining and make me feel grateful that this crap hasn't happened to me. So far.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Quite Literally Funny
Because people on the Internet are awesome, they spend their time making literal versions of music videos, where the singer narrates the action and thereby points out the ridiculousness around them. I saw this one today, and I love it... and not just because I love weddings and ruffians.
White Wedding: Literal Video Version - watch more funny videos
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
For Your Infomercial
Favorite Quotes from this Sham Wow Masterpiece:
"It's made in Germany. You know the Germans always make good stuff."
"You following me, camera guy?"
"We can't do this all day."
Favorite Quotes from this Slap Chop Masterpiece:
"You're gonna be in a great mood all day 'cause you're gonna be slapping your troubles away with the Slap Chop."
"You love salad. You hate making it. You know you hate making salads, that's why you don't have any salad in your diet!"
"This tuna looks boring. Stop having a boring tuna. Stop having a boring life."
"You're gonna love my nuts."
"You can't open this up. It's worthless. Forget about it."
"We're gonna make America skinny again... one slap at a time."
"Tacos. Fettuccine. Linguine. Martini. Bikini."
"You know we can't do this all day."
Would it be really wrong of me to want one of these in Royal Blue?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Analyze This.
Lately Mr. T and I have been using separate comforters, an act he hates and I love. For years I've been freezing my ass off at night, clinging to the duvet overflow because my bedmate thinks he needs a king size comforter all to himself. But last week our other comforter wasn't dry all the way, so we brought in our back up, and then, well, then we just never put the back up away.
So now we get to be two cocoons of warmth instead of one. Sweet equality.
But all this sound sleep hasn't necessarily been restful. I sleep so deeply that my dreams take the place of reality and I'm up all night running from killers and saving people's lives.
Take last night for example. Everything was great at first. I was sitting on the dock of a huge lake, watching Amy swim, beer in hand, in the little roped off swimming area. She was floating that special way she has of floating and everything was just fine. That is, until Shamu showed up.
All of a sudden, I was screaming from the dock for Amy to swim to the side and get out. But she was floating that special way she has of floating and she couldn't make out my actual words with her ears in the water. Then Betsy ended up in the roped off swimming area magically and she heard me screaming and started to swim toward me. Which was dumb because I was farther from her than the side and she had to swim right past Shamu to make it to me.
In all the commotion, Amy finally caught on that her life was in danger and started to swim to the edge. But not very aggressively since she had to keep her beer hand up out of the water to keep her beer safe. At the very last second, just as Shamu was about to have an Amy snack, she swam under the dock and took cover.
Betsy got to me and I pulled her out of the water, very dramatically by her bikini bottoms, which gave her a ridiculous wedgie. Why was that part so clear in all of this? A wedgie sticks out during my whale attack dream? Come on brain.
We both ran to the dock where Amy was hiding, expecting her to come out the other side so we could pull her out, but she never came out the other side. She was just under the dock. Running out of air. Without her beer.
What a nightmare.
So now we get to be two cocoons of warmth instead of one. Sweet equality.
But all this sound sleep hasn't necessarily been restful. I sleep so deeply that my dreams take the place of reality and I'm up all night running from killers and saving people's lives.
Take last night for example. Everything was great at first. I was sitting on the dock of a huge lake, watching Amy swim, beer in hand, in the little roped off swimming area. She was floating that special way she has of floating and everything was just fine. That is, until Shamu showed up.
All of a sudden, I was screaming from the dock for Amy to swim to the side and get out. But she was floating that special way she has of floating and she couldn't make out my actual words with her ears in the water. Then Betsy ended up in the roped off swimming area magically and she heard me screaming and started to swim toward me. Which was dumb because I was farther from her than the side and she had to swim right past Shamu to make it to me.In all the commotion, Amy finally caught on that her life was in danger and started to swim to the edge. But not very aggressively since she had to keep her beer hand up out of the water to keep her beer safe. At the very last second, just as Shamu was about to have an Amy snack, she swam under the dock and took cover.
Betsy got to me and I pulled her out of the water, very dramatically by her bikini bottoms, which gave her a ridiculous wedgie. Why was that part so clear in all of this? A wedgie sticks out during my whale attack dream? Come on brain.
We both ran to the dock where Amy was hiding, expecting her to come out the other side so we could pull her out, but she never came out the other side. She was just under the dock. Running out of air. Without her beer.
What a nightmare.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Things I've Been Doing to Keep from Dying of Boredom
1. Listening to NPR's playlist of Lesser Known Love Songs.
2. Designing phone book ads for my neighbor's construction company.
3. Cropping photos of my professional clips and working on my professional website because I AM A PROFESSIONAL DAMMIT.
4. Taking mental vacations to South America. (Have you been here because it is AWESOME!)
5. Sniffing the different color Sharpie highlighters to see if they have subtly different smells.
6. Wondering if that lady who had the 8 babies really did have surgery to look like Angelina Jolie.
7. Revisiting the idea of composting.
8. E-stalking on Facebook.
9. Reading blogs. And more blogs. And more blogs.
10. Typing creative concepts as they're being dictated to me by the guy in the office with the broken finger who also likes to tell me about how he asked a girl once if he could just "stick it in her butt" since she was on her period.
11. Deciding if I really need a master's degree to do graphic design or if one of those education extension classes would do the trick.
12. Planning to take a long photo walk. Planning.
13. Watching this hilariousness over and over and contemplating if this really is real life.
14. Trying to forget my last horrible dentist appointment so I can fit in one last visit before my insurance goes bye-bye.
15. Wishing my office had a bubble bath.
16. Imagining what will happen tonight on Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible.
17. Chatting at an unnecessary length about the unconstitutionality of entrapment, even if it is to catch a predator.
18. Looking up photos of Michael Phelps with the bong.
19. Enjoying Good Earth tea 4-5 times a day.
20. Counting the minutes until I can escape, go home, and do the exact same things but find them pleasurable and exciting.
2. Designing phone book ads for my neighbor's construction company.
3. Cropping photos of my professional clips and working on my professional website because I AM A PROFESSIONAL DAMMIT.
4. Taking mental vacations to South America. (Have you been here because it is AWESOME!)
5. Sniffing the different color Sharpie highlighters to see if they have subtly different smells.
6. Wondering if that lady who had the 8 babies really did have surgery to look like Angelina Jolie.
7. Revisiting the idea of composting.
8. E-stalking on Facebook.
9. Reading blogs. And more blogs. And more blogs.
10. Typing creative concepts as they're being dictated to me by the guy in the office with the broken finger who also likes to tell me about how he asked a girl once if he could just "stick it in her butt" since she was on her period.
11. Deciding if I really need a master's degree to do graphic design or if one of those education extension classes would do the trick.
12. Planning to take a long photo walk. Planning.
13. Watching this hilariousness over and over and contemplating if this really is real life.
14. Trying to forget my last horrible dentist appointment so I can fit in one last visit before my insurance goes bye-bye.
15. Wishing my office had a bubble bath.
16. Imagining what will happen tonight on Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible.
17. Chatting at an unnecessary length about the unconstitutionality of entrapment, even if it is to catch a predator.
18. Looking up photos of Michael Phelps with the bong.
19. Enjoying Good Earth tea 4-5 times a day.
20. Counting the minutes until I can escape, go home, and do the exact same things but find them pleasurable and exciting.
Friday, February 06, 2009
A thrilling look at LICENSE PLATES!
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Holiday Discoveries
I can always tell which of my friends have the baby itch based on the Christmas card they send. The tell tale sign that next year's card will feature a bundle of joy is a Christmas card with a festive pet on it.
Maybe it's just the dog with a Santa hat or maybe it's a "family" portrait with the pooch before it becomes old news, but that's my theory and I'm sticking to it.
In other exciting Christmas card news from the Random Thought Laboratory that is overrunning my mind, I found this today.
Is it just me or does that Santa baby freak you out? Kids are cute and it's fine if you want them to be on your Christmas card, but prop a baby up for goodness sake!
Maybe it's just the dog with a Santa hat or maybe it's a "family" portrait with the pooch before it becomes old news, but that's my theory and I'm sticking to it.
In other exciting Christmas card news from the Random Thought Laboratory that is overrunning my mind, I found this today.
Is it just me or does that Santa baby freak you out? Kids are cute and it's fine if you want them to be on your Christmas card, but prop a baby up for goodness sake!
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