No, you’re the cool one

At the end of this week, my sister is moving to St. Charles, Missouri. I’m sad about it. Megan has been my closest friend for as long as I’ve known about having close friends (well, except for during those few rocky years between age 8 and age 14 when I hated and tortured her. It was nothing personal–I pretty much hated and tortured everyone during those years). She has been part of every important moment of my life. She was my roommate for many years, both before and during college. She knew that I was going to date Ben before either Ben or I knew I was going to date Ben. We’ve shared clothes, cigarettes, food, diet plans, laughter, and so much time with each other. I will miss trading emails with her all day long at work, and the spontaneous shopping trips and restaurant meals in either Topeka or Lawrence that we’ve been sharing over the past year. I know St. Charles isn’t that far away from Lawrence, but it is far enough to alleviate the element of spontaneity from our friendship. So, I’m sad, because my best friend is moving away, and even though it is an inevitable element of life, I hate that things are changing.

Last night I was remembering one summer evening when Megs and I were about 8 and 10 years old. We were walking home from a Little League baseball game in Holyrood, KS, the tiny town where we grew up. Megs and I were round little butterballs when we were girls, and I remember very clearly that we were both wearing brightly colored tank tops and Hawaiian print shirts. (Hey–don’t judge–as I recall, they were supposed to be “in” that summer.) I so distinctly remember what we were wearing, because along the way we began arguing over whose shirt was “cooler.” It didn’t take long for that discussion to devolve into an argument over which of us was cooler. I remember Megan saying, “I’m definitely cooler than you.” And I was like, “Oh, come on. Seriously, Megan?” The thing is, if I showed you a photograph of the two of us in that moment, I can guarantee you wouldn’t think either of us was “cool”–not me with my Coke-bottle thick glasses, or Megs with her scraggly hair in her face, or either of us wearing those horrible Hawaiian shirts.

The thing I didn’t tell Megan that night, though, was that I secretly knew she was cooler than me. I’ve always known it. When we were younger, she always had a better fashion sense than me (don’t judge by the aforementioned Hawaiian shirts–my mom picked those out). She’s always known what bands were about to become hot. She’s always been able to stay calm when the masses are being asses, whereas I’m unable to keep my emotions under control in any circumstance. She’s always had an element of aloofness, cool separation from people around her, that I could never pull off–I could only lope along after her like a floppy-eared puppy, stumbling over its own gigantic feet.

But even though she was always cooler than me, while around her, I always felt cool by proximity. In fact, as I get older, Megan is one of the few people I ever feel even remotely cool around. We’re probably both about as cool now as we were when we were butterballs in Hawaiian shirts, but at least we feel cool when we’re together. Or at least I do.

I know it’s not like she’s dropping off the face of the earth by moving to St. Charles, or like I’m going to see her only once a decade. But it makes me sad that, after Saturday, I’ll have less time to spend with one of the people in my life who makes me feel good without even trying.  

This just in…

At the urging of Ben and Jen K (who was here to visit this last weekend, and who kindly spent an afternoon at the casino with me and my grandmother and her octogenarian friend), I took the Philosophy quiz. And my beliefs are 85% aligned with Existentialism, 75% with Utilitarianism, and 65% Justice (Fairness). Yeah…that pretty much sounds like me.

Take the quiz and find out what you are here:

http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=13060

 Let me know how it turns out!

Stop. Blogger time.

Yes. I am as lame as my title to this blog suggests. I just realized that my friend Kelli has posted to her blog, and that I have been neglecting mine, and that if I want to keep the blogging dream alive, I had better write something. Problem is, I can’t think of anything to write about, really. On a daily basis, dozens of things occur that make me think, “Ooh…I should write about that on my blog when I get home tonight.” But unfortunately, by the time I get home and have access to write, I either a.) have forgotten all the interesting things I noted throughout the day, or b.) am too tired of sitting in front of a computer all day to want to do it some more. So then I neglect poor blog, and poor blog starts to cry, and although that ought to make me feel sympathy for poor blog, it actually just makes me resent it, and then I neglect crying blog even further. And that’s why I probably shouldn’t have children.

Here’s a smattering of things that filled my day today. On the way to work, I heard about Bush commuting Scooter Libby’s sentence, and it pissed me off, and made me scowl even harder at the image of GW in my head. But by the time I drove home, I had heard so much about it, I started to think, why does this even surprise me? I mean, did I ever think Libby was going to jail anyway? Did I think his cronies would let him hang? I don’t even know why it’s lasted so long in the news. I mean, didn’t we all see this coming.

And also, today I had my lunch thoroughly inspected by Dr. B, who has returned from his vacation to a health spa, and has now taken it upon himself to evaluate the nutritional value of all things I consume. He’s very concerned about sodium. And the carcinogens in grilled meats. (Not that I was grilling meat for lunch today, but the 4th is coming up and all.) And he told me I shouldn’t eat my Campbell’s soup. Jerk.

And the best part of my day? I made this AWESOME jello salad called Jello Dreamsicle Salad, and it is every thing its name implies and more. It tastes like a creamsicle, but because I pay attention to things like this these days, it is very low in fat and calories, full of fruit (oranges and pineapple!), and it is awesome. Go me!

My Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

Today is not a good day. I’m in a pretty crappy mood. My boss is out of town for the week, which should make it a fairly relaxed, cruise-the-Web-for-eight-hours-and-get-paid-for-it, happy kind of day. Except it’s not. I woke up this morning feeling lousy—scratchy sore throat, headache, wanting to sleep for about three more hours. So that’s part of it. But also, this job is just really killing my enthusiasm about being on summer vacation. I mean, even if you have the kind of job that allows you to mess around on the Web for 8 hours a day and get paid for it, you’re still stuck in that cubicle for 8 hours at a stretch. This morning, as I was driving to work, I was thinking about all the things I had hoped to do with my time over summer vacation. Get some reading done for my eventual thesis project. Look over some resources for the class I’m teaching in the fall. Steadily review my Chinese characters and learn the simplified version of the characters I’ve learned. How much of that have I done this summer? Almost none. So, here I am, nearing the end of June, and nothing to show for it except for 4 40-hour weeks of sitting in a cubicle, listening to the doctor across the hall use company resources to make phone calls to his friends and talk about his family vacation, and which of his daughters are graduating from college, and who has kids, and where they live, and blah-dee-blah-dee-blah. Yesterday, I worked on developing a disability claim in which the woman’s only alleged condition causing her to be disabled was a “large right toe.” Seriously. That’s her disabling condition. And I just looked at a case where the woman applying finished up her application for an appeal of her claim by writing, “Looks like you guys didn’t do your job, huh?” I understand that she’s upset that she wasn’t given benefits the first time she applied, but I’m pretty sick of the jerkstore things people write on their applications. It’s hard not to lose enthusiasm for your job, much less faith in humanity, when you encounter assholes all day long. Meanwhile, Dr. B. (still across the way from me) is busy accusing people of smoking bongs in the office (no, Dr. B…that’s just the coffee pot burbling over there…just like it does every day…several times a day) and rhapsodizing on his incredible ability to diagnose traumatic brain injuries from a patient’s records, even the patient’s own doctor wasn’t able to see it when they examined the patient in person. Geniuses, I tell you. I’m surrounded by geniuses.

(Note: This was actually written on Thursday, 6/21)

Soaking in Chinese

It’s officially been about…oh…three weeks? four? since I’ve studied Chinese. I’m at the KU library right now, because I realized last night just how much one can forget in 3-4 weeks. I was reading this graphic novel, and some of the characters were Chinese, and their dialogue was written in characters. I could remember enough of the characters to get the gist of what they were saying, but there were several characters in there that I knew I ought to know, but I didn’t know, and it was really frustrating. So, in addition to trying to track down a few sources for my brother at the library today (I’ve been helping him, on occasion, get his hands on some sources in English for his linguistics research in China), I was planning to spend some time here reviewing characters. Except now that I’m firmly settled down in front of this computer, I really have no drive to get up, find a table in some quiet corner, and get to work studying.

I think part of the problem is that I experienced some pretty severe burnout at the end of last semester, in regards to my language study. I think it happens in almost any kind of study, but in language study in particular, there just comes a point when your brain shuts down and says, “Nope, I’m not going to learn another new thing. This is as good as it gets for now–I’m officially saturated.” Unfortunately, I reached that point about four weeks before the end of the semester, so the final weeks of learning new vocabulary were really painful. I don’t think I actually learned anything from the last 3 or 4 chapters of our textbook. I just memorized characters long enough to get through the quizzes.

Anyway, knowing that what is waiting for me is a bunch of characters I never actually learned in the first place is a bit daunting. On the other hand, what is more daunting is knowing that, if I don’t study over the summer, I will remember NOTHING when I the semester starts next fall, and that means Chinese II will really suck. So, here I go…off to re-soak my brain a little bit.

Bullocks to You!

My current cube of occupancy at DDS is situated directly across the walkway from one of the medical consultants in our office, who I’ll just call Dr. B. Most of the doctors and psych consultants who work here are the coolest people in the office. And then there’s Dr. B. This guy is very aptly described by some co-workers as the guy who wanted so badly to hang out with the cool kids in high school, but just won’t ever be cool himself. He’s the guy who thinks he’s cracking clever jokes, and doesn’t realize everyone around him is rolling their eyes. He’s the guy who shows up wearing camouflage hunting pants at least three days a week. He’s the guy who couldn’t keep his mouth shut in a quiet room if you paid him. He’s the guy who does Tae Kwan Do, and thinks its cool, so talks about it at every opportunity. (Sorry, Dr. B…Tae Kwan Do has never been cool—not even before I heard you talking about it 10 times a day.) And, I’ve found, he’s the guy who recycles the same jokes over and over, forgetting they weren’t funny the first time. For example, every day, as I crack open a can of diet Pepsi at my desk around lunch time, I count to myself, “One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three…” and I inevitably hear from his cube, “Ah…nothing like the first cold beer of the morning.” Okay, maybe it was a little funny the first time, but seriously…I’ve been here less than three weeks, and I’m already sick of it. Or the countless times I’ve heard him say, as I munch on some kind of vegetable at lunch time, “Be careful with those vegetables. You just might send your body into shock.” That one is not funny, not only because he says it every day, but because the fact that he has opportunity to say it every day automatically negates its funniness. You know what I mean?

The Man

I tried to post to my blog yesterday. I swear I did—twice even! Here’s the problem: I’m working at DDS again (You know, the old government job working for The Man that I narrowly escaped last summer? But don’t pity me for my return: it surely beats waiting tables or slogging hash, or whatever it is the kids are doing for summer jobs these days). Anyway, yesterday I figured, hey, I’m sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day—why not take advantage of the fact by posting to my blog and getting paid for it? So I came up with some brilliant stuff—you’ll have to trust me on this, but it was all of my genius wrapped up in a little blog entry—and posted it. Except when it came time to publish, it all disappeared.

 

I blame The Man. You see, The Man is jealous of my wit. He always has been. He doesn’t have a lot of wit of his own, really—who knows how he got all that power, considering his lack of personality? So that jealous little bastard couldn’t stand the idea of me making my wit known to the masses on his time. It’s like, c’mon, Man…you gotta ease up a little. You may have money, but you’ll never make friends acting that way.

 

So, anyway, I think I’ve found a way to outsmart The Man. I won’t bore you with all the technicalities, but rest assured that I am writing this entry on company time, using company resources. Damn the Man.

 

(I hope The Man isn’t reading this. I may be annoyed with him, but I don’t want to lose my summer job.)

 

If you’re reading this, Man, remember, you need me to have this job as much as I need me to have this job– I still have those pictures from that weekend in Vegas—you wouldn’t want those getting out, would you?

thoughts from the world’s worst blogger

I am a terrible blogger. I have been thinking about this ever since Friday evening, while out on the town with friends Alex and Shannon. My friend Shannon is a great blogger. Her blog (linked to mine, as Half-Asleep in Star Pajamas) is constantly being updated with her latest thoughts and reflections, goings-on and doing-nothings. Mine, on the other hand, is doing well if I write an entry once a month.

I’ve been wondering for the past couple of days why I’ve been so neglectful of my blog. I really enjoy reading other friends’ blogs, commenting on them, and adding thoughts to mine as they occur to me. I like the idea of a blog, of being able to post your thoughts, and have someone else across the country respond to them within minutes. I think part of the reason for neglecting my dear blog is that, during the school year, I am constantly struggling to find space to breathe, much less put my thoughts into words. But that can’t be all. Shannon’s a busy girl, too, as are many of my friends who faithfully blog, and that busy-ness doesn’t keep them from blogging.

 Part of the issue, too, is that I don’t feel like I have all that much to blog about. While my day-to-day life (especially during the school-year) is filled with activity and deadlines, much of it is pretty boring, and wouldn’t really make for good blog material. Do you all want to read about the four hours I spend writing and re-writing and re-writing Chinese characters before each of my three weekly vocabulary quizzes? Or how I always forget where the dash marks go on the character for the word that means “and”? I didn’t think so. But that’s the stuff that makes up much of my daily life 9 months out of the year. So terribly thrilling.

 Honestly, the number one reason I don’t blog is that, in the middle of all that busy-ness and daily tedium, I often forget I even have a blog, much less that I could be posting to it. Out of sight, out of mind, they say, and while I spend a fair amount of time staring at a computer screen on a daily basis, most of the time, I am not staring at my blog page, or thinking about staring at it, or even thinking about its existence at all. Poor, poor neglected blog.

Well, it’s summer now, and I have a bit of a break from the daily grind of school and character-study. I’ve been taking this opportunity already to do some things for my health–eating better, exercising more regularly, making sure I’m drinking enough water. I’m tentatively going to make a new resolution for the summer. I’m going to try (try, mind you…no definite promises here) to post a blog once a week this summer. They say if you do something seven times, it becomes a habit. (Is that what they say, or did I just make that up?) Well, I have at least seven weeks of summer, so it seems like the perfect amount of time to make this blogging thing part of my life.

Okay, there. I’ve posted it. Now I have to stick with it, or you’ll all know what a terrible slacking promise-breaker I really am.

To teach or not to teach, that is the question…

I guess I only write to this thing when I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Erm. Yeah. Like last time, I was supposed to be planning class, and I cancelled because of snow? Well, this time, I’m at home again, when I should be on campus. I skipped class this morning because I threw out my back last night, and I couldn’t imagine walking around up there, with my bag and all my books, and then sitting in those terrible desks. Unfortunately, I have a stack of 9 research papers that should be graded before the class I’m supposed to teach tonight. I’m still not entirely sure how that’s gonna work…both the teaching, and the grading. But I feel like I have to at least have class, because we’re so close to the end of the semester, and if I cancel another class, it will really screw up my schedule. Meh. But I’m having problems standing upright right now, and can sit only with a pillow in the small of my back, so. . . maybe teaching class isn’t such a great idea. The thing is, I’m really terrible at making calls like, “I’m just going to cancel class,” or “I just won’t go to class today.” I always feel guilty about the decision (as noted on my last post), even when I have a very good reason for doing the thing I’m doing. So, I’m venting here. Advice, anyone?

i feel a little naughty

Don’t worry. This isn’t a post about anything dirty.

 I just called and cancelled my class at Washburn tonight. I mean, I had good reason for it–Ben and I were just driving home from KU campus, and we were sliding all over the road in his little Focus. I know we’re only supposed to have a tiny bit of snow accumulation, and campus hasn’t cancelled classes, but honestly, it was a little bit scary driving on those slippery roads. Normally, in this situation, we would suck it up and just drive my car. My Lumina is heavier, and quite a bit more stable, than Ben’s little lightweight Focus (that’s right, Ben…I called your car a lightweight…snack on that). But, unfortunately (or fortunately?) my car is currently out of commission, and we don’t really have any other means of transportation. So, we cancelled class.

Because I am me, and this is how I roll, I of course feel a little bit guilty, like I’m trying to get away with something. I’m really not. But I feel that way. A little bit naughty. I wish I could ever just say no to things without feeling like I’m trying to get away with something and/or like I’m a big slacker. Hrm. It takes all the joy out of cancelling class . . .

almost.