Ants! Ants were everywhere in my room this morning. I hate them. I think I woke up when one was crawling into my mouth. I mean, honestly!
What I hate most about ants is when you can't figure out what they are after, as was the case this morning. There was no food in the bedroom. There was none in the bathroom (which is where I found another trail of them). There was absolutely no reason for them to invade my living quarters, but there they were! Ugh.
Tangentially, last night I watched a terrible movie. Mortal Kombat. It was on TV, and I couldn't resist. I'd seen it before (I can't believe I'm admitting that), so I knew how terrible it was, but as I said to Becca (who was watching it with me, albeit 350 miles away!), there is something strangely entertaining about it. Maybe it is the awfulness of the special effects, espcially the ugly four-armed man/beast. Maybe it is the laughable presence of that Highlander guy, making an appearance as the god of lightning or something (oh, I laughed out loud just writing that). Maybe it is the fact that it includes stupid lines from the video game ("Get over here!" "Fatality!"). I don't know. Becca and I tried to figure it out, but it was beyond our combined mental prowesses.
But at least it provided us with ample opportunity for Mystery Science Theater 3000-type commentary, so that was a plus. Now that's a show I really miss.
Anyway, I'm off to work. But for the record, I did not watch Mortal Kombat til the end (Becca, I know you were wondering!). Also, for the record, I really hate ants.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Late Night Ramblings
One of my toenails on my right foot has turned purple, and I know exactly why. It's because of my running shoes! They don't fit right. And last week when I went running, I could feel my poor toes pressing up against the front of my shoe, and I thought at the time that that was probably a bad sign, and now I see I was right!
When I was in New Zealand, I lost several toenails. That was also due to ill-fitting shoes, which I wore on backpacking trips that lasted several days. When your feet are hurting, by the way, several days feels like eternity plus one. Anyway, my shoes were too new, not broken in, and they pressed terribly on my poor toes, until they killed the nails, which then fell off. Ick. They grew back, of course, but still. It was kind of gross at the time.
I wonder if my toenail is going to fall off again? Ugh. That will not be good, because I wear flip-flops every day to work. Yikes.
I did not go running around the Rose Bowl today. Toenail or not, I must go tomorrow. (I can't believe I signed up for this half-marathon! What was I thinking??)
When I was in New Zealand, I lost several toenails. That was also due to ill-fitting shoes, which I wore on backpacking trips that lasted several days. When your feet are hurting, by the way, several days feels like eternity plus one. Anyway, my shoes were too new, not broken in, and they pressed terribly on my poor toes, until they killed the nails, which then fell off. Ick. They grew back, of course, but still. It was kind of gross at the time.
I wonder if my toenail is going to fall off again? Ugh. That will not be good, because I wear flip-flops every day to work. Yikes.
I did not go running around the Rose Bowl today. Toenail or not, I must go tomorrow. (I can't believe I signed up for this half-marathon! What was I thinking??)
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Dilemma
I had to get up early this morning to finish writing a newspaper article that I should have had done yesterday, if I hadn't been such a lazy...frogg. So that means I missed what I'm trying to make my regular walk/jog training for this half-marathon thing (why, oh why). I work at 1:45pm, so by the time I get home it will be too late for any exercise. The question is: do I brave the heat now (because it's definitely getting hot out there) and stick to my still-tenuous routine, or do i write it off, grab something icy-cool to drink, and sit out in the sun with Babel Tower? I only have about 150 pages left before I'm finished reading it.
Hmmm.
Given my predilection for laziness and sunbathing, I think you can guess what I'm going to decide. I'm pathetic, I admit it. But at least I'm pathetic and tan.
Hmmm.
Given my predilection for laziness and sunbathing, I think you can guess what I'm going to decide. I'm pathetic, I admit it. But at least I'm pathetic and tan.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Why The Frogg Isn't Married, Reason #287
Time for a new installment of the popular series, Reasons Why I Am Still Single. Today's topic: domestic organization, inspired by my recent, abortive attempt at using the popular software program, Quicken, which everyone else praises to the skies and which I would like to tie to a stone and throw into the bottom of a lake.
This sudden outburst is the result of the fact that I decided I would do some organizing today, because I feel like my life is spinning just a little bit out of control. I have papers stacked in piles, and piles stacked on other piles, and everything is everywhere and I don't know where to start to get on top of it all.
So I went to Office Depot and bought some filing folders today. (I also bought some Pilot roller ball pens, because I have an addiction to writing implements. I know, it's very weird.)
Well, I got home, and began bravely to sort through the fray. I also tried to use Quicken. Both of these activities were, in some measure, terrible mistakes.
Generally I picture myself as a laid-back, mellow, easy-going sort of gal, who likes lazing around in the summer sun and keeping quietly to herself as she reads a good book or something. When I'm organizing, though, the picture changes and suddenly I'm like Vampira, baring fangs and hissing wildly at anyone who is stupid enough to come along and try to show me an easier or better or more efficient way of doing whatever it is that I'm trying to do. This is because I am dimly aware, in the recesses of my organizationally-challenged mind, that there MUST be better, more efficient, and easier ways of doing it, but I simply don't have the mental acuity to figure it out, and I hate it that I don't. My brain just isn't wired for compartmentalization. Everything in there is always jumbled around in a jostling heap! So it shouldn't surprise anyone that my desk is jumbled too.
Honestly, I feel sorry for anyone who has to be around me when I am in "organization mode," as I am at the moment, because I really become a horrible person, all snappish and short-tempered and mean. Nothing puts me in a worse mood than trying to untangle my financial records and reconcile bank statements and file all the random bits and pieces of paper that somehow purport to represent my life.
So what does all this have to do with being single? Well, I have this awful fear that men are on the lookout for three main things when it comes to finding a mate, and they are as follows, not necessarily in any particular order:
1) Someone who cooks well. (Um, no.)
2) Someone who will mother and nurture him. (Sigh.)
3) Someone who is highly organized and detail-oriented and can function as a PA for him at a moment's notice when needed. (If you don't know that this is not a very good description of yours truly, you have not been reading this post.)
I don't even have a best-of-three going for me here! Yikes.
I do wish I were more organized though (and culinary, and--well, not mothering exactly, but maybe nurturing). I wish that I was able to tally up clever lists of things to do, and when to do them, and then mark them off neatly with pretty check marks when they are done. I wish that I was able to remember to pay bills on time, instead of a week late (in spite of reminders that I put on calendars). I wish that I could keep my desk nice and neat, with everything tucked into a proper place. For that matter, I wish that I could find my desk.
Mostly, though, I wish I could find a man who likes being organized, and likes doing the organizing, AND doesn't care that I hate both. Since it is unlikely that such a breed of man should exist, I will wish for the next best thing.
I wish for a man rich enough to enable me to hire my own PA.
This sudden outburst is the result of the fact that I decided I would do some organizing today, because I feel like my life is spinning just a little bit out of control. I have papers stacked in piles, and piles stacked on other piles, and everything is everywhere and I don't know where to start to get on top of it all.
So I went to Office Depot and bought some filing folders today. (I also bought some Pilot roller ball pens, because I have an addiction to writing implements. I know, it's very weird.)
Well, I got home, and began bravely to sort through the fray. I also tried to use Quicken. Both of these activities were, in some measure, terrible mistakes.
Generally I picture myself as a laid-back, mellow, easy-going sort of gal, who likes lazing around in the summer sun and keeping quietly to herself as she reads a good book or something. When I'm organizing, though, the picture changes and suddenly I'm like Vampira, baring fangs and hissing wildly at anyone who is stupid enough to come along and try to show me an easier or better or more efficient way of doing whatever it is that I'm trying to do. This is because I am dimly aware, in the recesses of my organizationally-challenged mind, that there MUST be better, more efficient, and easier ways of doing it, but I simply don't have the mental acuity to figure it out, and I hate it that I don't. My brain just isn't wired for compartmentalization. Everything in there is always jumbled around in a jostling heap! So it shouldn't surprise anyone that my desk is jumbled too.
Honestly, I feel sorry for anyone who has to be around me when I am in "organization mode," as I am at the moment, because I really become a horrible person, all snappish and short-tempered and mean. Nothing puts me in a worse mood than trying to untangle my financial records and reconcile bank statements and file all the random bits and pieces of paper that somehow purport to represent my life.
So what does all this have to do with being single? Well, I have this awful fear that men are on the lookout for three main things when it comes to finding a mate, and they are as follows, not necessarily in any particular order:
1) Someone who cooks well. (Um, no.)
2) Someone who will mother and nurture him. (Sigh.)
3) Someone who is highly organized and detail-oriented and can function as a PA for him at a moment's notice when needed. (If you don't know that this is not a very good description of yours truly, you have not been reading this post.)
I don't even have a best-of-three going for me here! Yikes.
I do wish I were more organized though (and culinary, and--well, not mothering exactly, but maybe nurturing). I wish that I was able to tally up clever lists of things to do, and when to do them, and then mark them off neatly with pretty check marks when they are done. I wish that I was able to remember to pay bills on time, instead of a week late (in spite of reminders that I put on calendars). I wish that I could keep my desk nice and neat, with everything tucked into a proper place. For that matter, I wish that I could find my desk.
Mostly, though, I wish I could find a man who likes being organized, and likes doing the organizing, AND doesn't care that I hate both. Since it is unlikely that such a breed of man should exist, I will wish for the next best thing.
I wish for a man rich enough to enable me to hire my own PA.
Too Classic
Found this old article on fark.com while waiting to get through to my interviewee (busy signal!). It's about a guy who actually dislocated his jaw while throwing up in New Zealand, back in 2004. I had no idea that you COULD dislocate your jaw that way. How weird. Anyway, read for yourself. It's old news, but still funny news in my book:
Mt Cook is Jaw Locking
Mt Cook is Jaw Locking
Monday
I am feeling very uncreative lately! Sorry everyone.
No meteor shower last night; too cloudy and too late. But I tried out my brother's new piano. It is a very large upright, probably around 100 years old, but in good condition for its age. The tuning and key action are not at all bad.
We watched part of Spy Games too. It was filmed in Morocco during the time that my brother K was living there, so he and a few friends signed up to be extras. You can actually see him just behind Brad Pitt for a couple seconds in two different shots. AND if you listen carefully you can even hear him talking! Pretty funny.
Well, I must go and interview the subject for my upcoming, hard-hitting investigative feature story--a local woman who won a year's supply of cheese in a national recipe contest! How did she do it?? Stay tuned!
No meteor shower last night; too cloudy and too late. But I tried out my brother's new piano. It is a very large upright, probably around 100 years old, but in good condition for its age. The tuning and key action are not at all bad.
We watched part of Spy Games too. It was filmed in Morocco during the time that my brother K was living there, so he and a few friends signed up to be extras. You can actually see him just behind Brad Pitt for a couple seconds in two different shots. AND if you listen carefully you can even hear him talking! Pretty funny.
Well, I must go and interview the subject for my upcoming, hard-hitting investigative feature story--a local woman who won a year's supply of cheese in a national recipe contest! How did she do it?? Stay tuned!
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Sunday
A quiet day today, sunny but not hot. Strange for August, really. But I'm not complaining.
I am about to go to my brother's house and have dinner. Later tonight, we may try to see a meteor shower. It will be quite late. It's a good thing I don't have work tomorrow, though I do have an article to write before Wednesday.
Almost finished reading Babel Tower, which is a difficult book. Beautifully written, occasionally redundant or perhaps self-indulgent, a little dangerous. I suspect it may be brilliant, but we shall see how it ends first.
I am about to go to my brother's house and have dinner. Later tonight, we may try to see a meteor shower. It will be quite late. It's a good thing I don't have work tomorrow, though I do have an article to write before Wednesday.
Almost finished reading Babel Tower, which is a difficult book. Beautifully written, occasionally redundant or perhaps self-indulgent, a little dangerous. I suspect it may be brilliant, but we shall see how it ends first.
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