New Years Resolution

As I've considered what 2009 holds for me, I realized I haven't the foggiest notion what will/might/could/should occur in the next 365 days. All I can know for sure is that I am done with school, and I've got some serious school debt I need to pay back. Other than that I could find myself living in any number of locations, doing any assortment of jobs, interacting with a variety of people, so what resolution can I possibly make that will translate to all those conditions?

Well, I've decided that my resolution this year will be to bloom where I'm planted. No matter what situation I find myself, no matter how inhospitable the circumstances, I will strive to become what God intended for me. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, I will try strive to live-up to my potential.

Hopefully I can maintain this vision throughout the year, and I wish you all luck with your own resolutions.

Strange Inventions

I understand the need to develop new technologies to aid factory workers, but I think they might have taken it a little too far with these robotic legs.



I mean seriously, does that look comfortable to you?

Once upon a time I worked in a warehouse that was trying to implement the wearing of steel-toed shoes. The management was met with widespread resistance from a disgruntled workforce (I don't care how many styles those shoes come in; they still hurt your feet). After that experience, I can't even imagine the internal PR campaign that would need to be launched to try to get workers to "saddle up" as it were. ;)

Picture, Picture

I spent the afternoon in Concord and Lexington with a friend, who very kindly allowed me to play with his rather nice camera equipment. I'm not the best photographer, but I did snap some fun pictures:

My Problem As I See It

As a former psychology major, I know that self-assessment has it's drawbacks and lacks a certain validity. Keeping that all in mind I'd like to delve into why I think I am currently in mental mess right now.

A long time ago I heard this story:

Once there was a man whose house had fallen into disrepair, and needed renovations. Not knowing how to do the repairs himself, the man asked an architect if he would take on this difficult job. The architect gladly agreed and started immediately by reinforcing the foundation and structure of the house. The man was so impressed with the architect's work that he quickly agreed to let the architect renovate the interior of the house as well. The architect was granted complete access to every room of the house except a small closet under the stairs.

Again the man was impressed with the architect's work and his attention to detail. However, as the renovations were underway, the architect informed the man that he must have access to that closet if the renovations were to continue. The man refused and began to pitch a fit. How dare the architect ask to see this closet. Hadn't the man given the architect access to every other room of the house? Wasn't he entitled to have a little piece of his home to himself? In truth the man was both ashamed and a little possessive of the closet's contents. He couldn't see why the architect needed to touch the closet anyway--afterall it was tucked away in a corner and had no affect on the structure or appearance of the house.

Without access to that closet the architect had no choice but to stop work on the renovations. It did not take long for the condition of the home to again deteriorate without the assistance of the architect. After awhile the man recognized the need for the renovations to continue, and he finally let the architect back into his life by allowing him access to the secret closet. As the contents of the closet were dredged into the light, the man could finally see the mildew, mold, and poison that were contained there in. With the same meticulous attention to detail that had used in repairing the rest of the house, the architect cleaned the closet thoroughly and repaired the damage those contents had caused.

I am afraid that I have become like the man in this parable. While I try to live a Christ-like life and open my heart to the Holy-Ghost, I am in truth holding back. Deep in the recesses of my soul there are fears, anxieties, and resentments that I have tried to hide from both God and myself. Although they were hidden from sight, they still influenced my life, poisoning my soul from the inside out.

It is time that I turn my whole heart and soul over to God and allow him to cleanse this poison from my soul. I know this, yet I continue to resist, and that my friends is why I am in a bit of mental mess right now.

Why I Voted

Today, the first Tuesday of November 2008, is a day of much importance throughout the country. It is the day that we the people elect a new President of the United States.

As monumental as this event is for the country as a whole, it doesn't mean much to those of us living in a very red or very blue state. I live in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts one of the bluest states in the union. When I cast my ballot, it means nothing. Regardless of who I vote for, the election will go to the Democratic nominee. It's simply a given.

Don't get me wrong, I did vote, but it wasn't because I thought I could make a difference in the presidential, congressional, or all the uncontested city and state officials elections. It was because of the other questions they put on the ballot.

My favorite was:

Shall the state representative from this district be instructed to vote in favor of amending the state Constitution to replace the state Legislature with 100 randomly selected adult residents of the Commonwealth, each serving a one-year term, to be called the Commonwealth Jury and to have all the legislative and other powers of the current Legislature?

I nearly died laughing. There's some group out there that wants to fire the ENTIRE state legislature and replace it with people who would be FORCED to put their own lives on hold for A FULL YEAR to serve in the Commonwealth Jury. And you thought regular jury duty sucked. I suppose you can guess how I voted on this one. ;)

Charlie and The Post He Didn't Think I'd Write

disclaimer: this entry is frivolous, ridiculous, silly, and otherwise absurd. It was written for the benefit of Charlie who said he didn't think I would do it, which is kind of the equivalent of giving me a triple dog dare.

Once upon a time there was a kind elf named Tim who lived in the magical land of Somerville, which should never be confused with the 100-acre-woods or the Shire because Tim does not consort with hobbits or pants-less bears.


Tim would claim to be unpleasant, cantankerous, and pessimistic, but his kindness would shine through whenever he stopped at the nearby apartment of 4 Mormons (Sporty, Geeky, Confused, and Spicy) providing them with home cooked meals and 2 liter bottles of Diet Coke.

He even subjected himself to experimental hair-bleaching without grumbling (see he's smiling).


Then one day Geeky saw a cartoon about Charlie the Unicorn in the magical YouTube window.



When Geeky showed the cartoon to Tim, Spicy, and Sporty, they all started to laugh because Tim is Charlie the Unicorn, except Tim still has both his kidneys and isn't a unicorn.

And that is how Tim the kind elf came to be known as Charlie.

The End

Row, Row, Row your boat.....

This last weekend was the 44th Head of the Charles Regatta. People come from all over the world to compete in crew races in the Charles River (aka Dirty Water).


For my friends and family who are unfamiliar with crew, if you'll watch any movie about prep schools on the east coast (Dead Poets Society, Skulls, With Honors, School Ties, etc.), at some point you'll see in the background six guys on a boat rowing in unison. That's called crew. You can also row alone on a similar boat and it's called sculling.

Anyway back to Head of the Charles. I've lived here for a few years now, and I had never actually been to the race. It's pathetic, I know, so I made darn sure that I went this year, and I was ready for the excitement and energy that accompanies any race. I have to admit that I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

When we showed up on the banks of the Charles, boats were in the water, people were rowing, but there was a lack of yelling or cheering as well as side-by-side competition, so to quote my friend Brad "When do the races start?" As it turns out the races are timed trials as to discourage 6 boats going neck to neck down the river. I guess that makes it easier for the crews to focus on avoiding things like rocks, bridges, and geese, but it's not terribly exciting.

So why do so many people attend a race that isn't much of a race because you can't really see who's in the lead? According to my friends it was the free samples. All along the river there were tents set up. Some were selling pizza, other's t-shirt, but the one's that had the longest lines were the one's that were giving away free things like freshly baked cookies, juices, and kashi cereal.

My theory is that the Head of the Charles simply provides yet another excuse for New Englanders go outside and enjoy the autumn weather before we are all driven inside for the duration of the frigid winter. All in all, the day was beautiful, the people were wonderful, and I had a nice time, so I would have to say that it's an event worth experiencing.

It Came to Pass

When asked for my favorite scripture, I simply say:

"And it came to pass"

It occurs over 450 times in the standard works, and whenever I come across it, I'm reminded that the sad, bad, unpleasant, boring, intolerable times in life will pass--sometimes like a kidney stone--but they pass none the less.

Winston Churchill once said, "If you are going through Hell, keep going." Every story is a tragedy if stopped at just the wrong place, but if you can keep yourself going in a forward direction, your story could become anything from an inspirational drama to a romantic comedy.

My problem is that I'm one of those pesky people who likes to read the last 10 pages of a book before I'm half way through the story. I simply prefer knowing what sort of ending to expect before I get there, so I find it annoyingly frustrating that I can't look ahead to see the exciting conclusion to my own life story.

*sigh*

I know it's really a blessing. Since I don't know the ending, I get to experience a life that is more of a "choose your own adventure " story. I make choices and witness how those decisions mold and shape the plot.........

Hey, maybe that means I get to choose the genre too. I'm hoping for a bittersweet romantic comedy (cue romantic theme music). Let's see I'll need a handsome gentleman or better yet, a sweet, kind, slightly geeky guy friend who is in the right place at the right time, to catch my eye and capture my heart. You know maybe my story will turn out just fine and perhaps my happily ever after is just waiting to happen, if I can just move past the disappointments and complications I'm facing today.

"In three words I can sum up everything
I've learned about life: it goes on."
- Robert Frost

"The best way out is always through."
-Robert Frost

Punked Out Saturday - and why I love Boston.

On my way home from apple picking yesterday, I decided to cut through Davis Square, (which parenthetically is not actually a square but a place where 5 roads intersect). The traffic was worse than normal due to crowds of pedestrians dressed for either a punk concert or a "What Not to Wear" convention.


That of itself is not terribly unusual. but the man on stilts directing traffic was.



But really it was the funky street band music and dancing that finally got me to park my car and check out the festivities.

So it turns out it was the third annual Honk! Festival, which according to the website is a time and place for mobile street bands to ".... arouse fellow travelers, to warn of danger, to celebrate milestones, and just plain have fun." In other words, have an excuse to get dressed up, get out of your house, dance, laugh, and just enjoy the autumn weather. Yet another reason I love Boston--random festivals.

I took a bunch of pictures of the crazy costumes and bands. If you'd like to check them out they are on my picasa page.

Stay tuned for next week's "Reason I love Boston" with my Head of the Charles coverage. It's going to be wicked awesome. ;)

Pick a Peck of Apples

When the leaves turn gold, red, and orange, and the morning air is brisk with a chilly crispness, it's time to go apple picking. Here in New England it's not only a tradition, I think there might even be a law requiring all persons over the age of 2 to spend at least one hour each autumn picking apples.

In the spirit of following this tradition, me and two of my roommates went apple picking today.........each with a different group of people. We really should have discussed this before hand because we now have 87% of bushel sitting on our kitchen counter.

(If you have an apple recipe you'd like to share, this would be a really good time to do so.)

My favorite part of apple picking is that you get to taste test as you go, so you don't pick a peck of putrid pomes. And if you come across an apple you don't particularly like, well you just toss it on the ground. Now that's something you can't do in a grocery store. ;)

Why I'm not a Librarian

I took an aptitude test when I was in 5th grade that stated quite clearly that I should become a librarian, which would be totally awesome if I had any interest in such a career. Unfortunately, I'd rather die than be a librarian, so I ignored the test and went on with my non-librarian life until a few weeks ago, when I got called as the meeting house librarian. Just more evidence that God has a wicked sense of humor.

I am trying to make the most of it, and I've discovered a task that I enjoy. Most librarians call it weeding. I call it, "Let's find stuff to pitch." You see a lot of people like to donate items to the library, which pretty much means they clean off their own bookcases and we get all the extras. Since we haven't had a librarian in a few months those donations have gone unchecked.

So for your reading enjoyment, I've prepared a selection (and display) of some of my favorite items to discard.

First we have the Charlie Brown decorated Pringles cans. While I can think of a few creative purposes for such, I cannot imagine a single scenario where a teacher comes running into the library demanding I provide such.

Then we have the self help section which includes the "Self........Acceptance" tapes and the "Someone Special Starring YOUth" book. I'm going out on a limb with this, but I'm fairly certain that anyone seeking self-help materials is not going to start at the church library.

My personal favorite is the collection of cheesy church related fiction that seems to have accumulated on the shelves. For example: "Captain Matrimony," which is about a math teacher who must break the anti-marriage curse in a small Utah town. Okay seriously, have you ever gone to your chucrh library and asked for the latest Jack Weyland book? Didn't think so. I haven't yet decided what to do with these books. Should I give them away or simply recycle them? Speaking of which, would anyone like to borrow "Captain Matrimony" when I'm done? ;)

I've saved the best for last, the instructional VHS tape titled:

The Computer Museum
"How Computers Work: A Journey into
the Walk-Through Computer"
10/90

Nothing like an 18 year old VHS tape to open your eyes to how those new fangled machines work. Unfortunatly, I can't let anyone check this out until they've first viewed the DVD on how to use a VHS player.

I obviously have my work cut out for me as a meeting house librarian, but who knows, maybe this calling will make me change my mind about becoming a career librarian. If that day ever comes you'll want an umbrella. There will after all be pigs flying about, and I hear they make mess. ;)

Spider Dilemma

This morning I awoke to discover a spider on the blinds above my bed.


Though my mother always encouraged catch and release of the household spider, I have come to prefer the squish and flush method. The precarious placement of this arachnid was the only reason it's fate was not so quickly decided.

It was going to be difficult to kill it in the first attempt due to the odd angle of the blinds. Since my bed is directly below the blinds, I definitely wanted to avoid having an arachnoleptic fit (n. frantic dance performed by one who has dislodged a spider) when it escaped into my bedding. Instead I considered for a moment what to do.

I decided the best thing to do would be to take a picture of it. The flash would startle it enough to get it moving, and with any luck it would move into a more appropriate squishing location, then BAM!

What I discovered instead is that this particular spider wasn't going anywhere since it was enclosed in a web.


I was suddenly stuck with a moral dilemma. Killing this helpless creature was like shooting fish in a barrel. It couldn't very well run away or escape if it had wrapped itself in a web. This spider had obviously chosen this location to hibernate for the winter because it thought it safe from any danger. Could I really do in a spider when it was in its safe place? A place where it could lay its eggs.............with that thought, a vision danced in my head of 100's of 1000's of tiny spiders swarming all over me as I slept.

BAM!
dilemma solved

Get a Life

As my roommate was heading out to the store this morning she asked me if I needed anything. I said, "Could you pick me up a life?"

And she walked back in the door with a whole box of Life for me.

Since you are what you eat, I'm thinking that a bowl of Life everyday might just lead to something good. That something might only be a happy tummy, but I'll take that. ;)

Thanks Michelle for the Life.

Blog Tag - I'm it

I have to admit my first exposure to the game of blog tag was when I got tagged this week. Since it's always interesting to share little odd tidbits of who you are with your friends, I welcomed this opportunity. The only regret I have is that for one of the questions I have to tag six more people. I don't want any of you to feel obligated to continue this game of tag so I'll tell you what. If you read my blog, have a blog of your own, and would like to be one of my six tagees please write a note in the comment section simply saying, "I'm it." That only seems fair. So here we go:

A-Attached or single: Single
B- Best Friend: Don't have one. I'm holding that position for my future husband, but I have many, many wonderfully awesome friends.
C-Cake or Pie: How might peach cobbler fit into this?
D-Day of Choice: I make my best choices on Thursdays.
E- Essential Item: unfortunately Diet Coke, but I've started a 12 step program for the 6th time.
F- Favorite Color: Shades of lavender
G- Gummi Bears or Worms: I really dislike binary questions. Swedish Fish anyone?
H- Hometown: Midvale, UT
I- Indulgence(s): Diet Coke and Stargate SG1
J- January or July: Those have got to be the two worst months of the year. One is way too hot and the other is way too cold. I'll take the other 10 months.
K-Kids: Issac Connor and Taiya Bryn. They just haven't been conceived yet.
L-Life is incomplete without: Laughing
M- Marriage Date: If I choose, will it come? Let's go with August 10 of 20??
N- Number of Siblings:4 (2 bros and 2 sisters)
O- Oranges or Apples: Fuji apples hands down, but I love clementines too. Do those count as oranges?
P- Phobias or Fears: I have this issue with germs. If I share my spoon, fork, or soda with you, you can assume 1 of 3 things
1) I have kissed you
2) I want to kiss you
3) I've gone through a 3 min. internal argument to convince myself that your germs are okay and there is no reason I shouldn't say, "Sure you can use your spoon to take a taste of my icecream sunday."
Q- Quote: "On my world are the people are ponies, and they eat rainbows and poop butterflies."
R- Reason To Smile: Smiles are contagious. Whenever I see one I want to smile too.
S- Season: The Christmas Season
T- Tag Six: (see opening paragraph)
U- Unknown Fact About Me: Uh, how can I answer this? If I tell you something, then it's known and is no longer the answer.
V- Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animal: Dude who wrote this question? I do indeed eat meat, although my family has occasionally accused me of going vegetarian.
W- Worst Habit: using the words, "marvy," "awesome," "brill," and "lovely" far too often
X- X-Rays or Ultrasounds: What is this? My superpower of choice? The superpower of Ultrasound would be different. I'll go with that.
Y- Your Favorite Food: florentine canolis from Mike's Patries. I only get it a maximum of once a year, and it takes me two days to eat it, but I looooooove it.
Z- Zippers or Zebras: This has got to be the weirdest questions thus far. I think I'll create a campaign called zippers for zebras where people can donate their old zippers to save the zebras. If it is a question of which I would rather wear. Zippers are more useful and zebras are too heavy so I guess I'll say zipper.

Now you know my ABC's next time won't you sing with me. ;)

Feeling a Little Blue

I woke up this morning feeling a little blue. Okay a lot blue. No need to fear though, I subscribe to the Sesame Street podcast and if anyone could cheer me up it would have to be Sesame Street. I didn't have much hope in today's episode until I got to this segment with Bert and Ernie, and then I couldn't help but laugh.

And just remember if you are having a less than special day, run your fingers through your hair and remember that no one else has hair like yours. Hmmm, that sounds less insulting when coming from Bert and Ernie. ;)

Evil Sticky Tree

My street is lined with trees, which to the casual onlooker appears to provide shade and beauty to the neighborhood. However, those of us that must park our cars on this street can tell you that these trees are pure evil. In fact I call them the Evil Sticky Trees.

All summer long a fine sprinkling of stickiness fell from the leaves, coating anything and everything underneath with a layer of honey-like substance. If you happened to leave your car under one of these trees for a day or two you may discover it difficult to see through the windows.



And if you leave it under a tree for a week or more, you may have trouble opening the door because your car is completely covered from hood to trunk with icky, sticky, grossness.



For awhile I held the opinion that these trees were in actuality carnivorous plants. In their natural habitat, they drip their venom upon passing creatures, pinning them to the ground. I figured the venom also contained some sort of digestive enzyme (evidenced by my car's ruined paint job) which would break their prey down into vital nutrients that could then be absorbed into the tree's root system.

A pretty good theory if I do say so myself. If I hadn't wanted to know when the stickiness would end, I probably would have let it go at that, but no, I had to dig a little deeper. As it turns out these are Linden trees, and........


...they are not carnivorous.:( According to treehelp.com these trees are often "plagued by aphids." The aphids suck the trees sap and excrete "a clear, sweet, sticky substance known as "honeydew." So guess what my friends, my car has been smothered in disgusting bug excrement, poop, crap, feces, etc. I think I liked the venom idea better.

Internship Reflections

My internship ended over two weeks ago and while I search for a new job, I can't help but reminisce about what I will miss most. As you read, perhaps you will understand why this was the best summer ever, and why it might be difficult to incorporate it into my resume.

1. Friends and Coworkers.All the inside jokes will live on in infamy. I will never again think of CPR, velociraptors, or turtles without laughing my head off.

2. FETCH! Kids
I really wish I could tell you all about these six fabulous kids, but I'm afraid I cannot. Since these episodes will not air until next September, I can only tell you that I'm going to miss everything about them.

3. Nicknames and Public Service Announcements
One of the FETCH kid's nicknamed me Allyoop. Whenever he saw me, I was treated to the following public service announcement:

Allyoop, score. Hey kid's basketball is fun, but do you know what isn't.......drugs.

and

Step on a crack, break your mother's back.
Turn around and smoke the crack, break your mother's heart.

and

Smoking causes cancer so don't.... smoke.......tumors.

4. Unusual Errands
When I signed of for this internship, I could never have imagined I'd hear these words:

"Please zip over to Dave's Soda and Pet City to purchase a scorpion"

5. Unique Tasks--Chicken Guard and Personal Assistant

Goal: "Do whatever it takes to keep this chicken sitting right there."

This included:

• - Sitting on a barrel for 3 hours
• - Overcoming a fear of bird beaks
• - Making friends with the chicken and naming her Henrietta
• - Hand-feeding her corn on the cob
• - Overfeeding her to the point of complete exhaustion
• - Running interference between curious children and Henrietta
  

6. Seeing New England upclose and personal
Before this internship I had seen much of the Massachusetts coastline, but not much else. After 12 short weeks this summer, I can honestly say I've seen Massachusetts.


7. Incidental Art
This was simply a piece of poster board that was used to absorb the extra paint while I modified a costume for one of the FETCH kid's.

Please indulge my internal psychologist and tell me what you see in this ink blot. (if you say Easter Egg, we can no longer be friends.) ;)


Conclusion:
Walking out the front doors of WGBH after the wrap party was one of the hardest thing I've ever done. With all honesty I can tell you this job was by far the most work and the most fun I've ever experienced. Like I've been telling all my friends all summer, the only way it could have been any better was if I got paid. ;)

Kibble Crunch Cookies - Part 2

Armed with my kibble of choice (Cocoa Puffs and Corn Pops),

I developed three Kibble Crunch Cookie prototypes.

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PROTOTYPE #1

First I started with my favorite oatmeal and peanut butter cookie recipe. After replacing the oatmeal and chocolate chips with cereal kibble the recipe looked like this:

Cream together:

• 1/2 c. white sugar
• 1 c. brown sugar, packed
• 3/4 tsp. salt
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 c. peanut butter

Add:

• 1 c. Cocoa Puffs
• 2 c. Corn Pops

Mix well. Drop on cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees until lightly browned about 10 to 12 minutes.

Result: Typical cookie with little crunch surprises in every bite. Not bad as a first attempt, but I wasn't sure it would appear kibble-esque enough for the TV cameras, so time for attempt number 2.

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PROTOTYPE #2

This time I modified my mom's Rice Krispy treat recipe. Since it worked with one cereal, I figured it would work for another.

• 3 cups Cocoa Puffs Cereal
• 6 cups Corn Pops Cereal
• 1 cups brown sugar
• 1 sticks of butter
• 1/2 cup Karo syrup
• 1/2 can condensed milk

Pour cereals into a large bowl. In a separate pan combine brown sugar, margarine, and Karo syrup. Boil 3 minutes. Add condensed milk. Boil three more minutes. Stir into cereals. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax or parchment paper. Wait until cool and eat.

Result: Tastes a lot like a caramel popcorn ball, but it's definitely more kibble looking than last attempt, though one observer said it looked more like dog vomit.

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PROTOTYPE #3

I wanted to improve the flavor of attempt number #2. I also wanted to see how it would look if it was made entirely out of Cocoa Puffs. So say ba-bye to the butter and condensed milk, and say hello to chunky peanut butter.

• 3-4 c. cocoa puffs
• 1/3 c. Karo syrup
• 1/2 c. brown sugar
• 1/2 c. chunky peanut butter

Pour Cocoa Puffs into a large bowl. In a separate pan combine brown sugar and Karo syrup. Boil 3 minutes. Add peanut butter. Stir into cereal. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax or parchment paper. Wait until cool and eat.

Result: By far the best tasting of the attempts, but it truly looks disgusting.

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I brought all three of my attempts into the office to let the powers that be decide which one deserves the spot light as THE Kibble Crunch Cookies for the episode. Any thoughts about which ones you think are most appropriate for the spotlight?

Kibble Crunch Cookies

Kibble: coarsely ground grain in the form of pellets (as for pet food)



Have I mentioned how awesome my internship is? Seriously it's the best. My assignment this weekend is to create Kibble Crunch Cookies, which should appear to have been made using Kibble, yet must be edible, delectable, and generally agreeable for a child's discriminating pallet.

Quite a tall order, yet one I will gladly take on. After all I am after the person who attempted making Peanut Butter Bacon Bread. If anyone could do this it would be me.

It's recommended that I use cereal as the kibble which makes sense. I mean referring to the basic definition above cereal is kibble, but I wouldn't recommend you telling your kids that. Coco Puffs and Kiks are probably my best bets as stand ins for kibble. The recipe itself needs to be light on the flour because I don't want anything masking the kibble texture, and flour might make it look cakey.

Someone suggested marshmallow treats, but I think I need something more transparent than marshmallow. I'm toying with something akin to my mom's rice krispy treats that are made using karo syrup. I'm also thinking peanut butter might be a nice touch. Well off to the store I go to buy a ton of cereal, karo syrup, and peanut butter.

I'll let you know how it goes. If the end product is edible I'll post the recipe. Wish me luck.

Boston Driving "Customs" vs. "Laws"

Within 5 minutes of driving on Boston streets, you will realize that all those rules you learned in traffic school simply do not apply here. Let me give you a few examples

Problem: Driver in right hand turn lane realizes that he/she needs to turn left.
Solution: When the light changes, driver guns engine, cuts everyone off and turns left.

Problem: Driver needs to go the wrong way on a one-way street to get to desired destination.
Solution: Back up the road so that your car is at least facing the correct direction.

Problem: Driver wants to make a left hand turn, but there are no breaks in traffic.
Solution: Inch out slowly until traffic stops for you and your left turn.

And all this is done with such prevalence that you might forget that common driving practices are not the same as driving laws. In fact, you might suppose that the only tickets that are issued here are for parking, speeding, and failure to get your car registered. As it turns out that is not entirely true as I learned just yesterday.

I was parallel parked on one side of the street, but I needed to head in the opposite direction. I did a proper lookout. Since there was plenty of space, I simply pulled out across the street and headed the correct direction. I of course did not think anything of the cop across the way who was out of his cop car writing a ticket for someone, but my passenger noticed when the cop signalled for me to pull over. That caught me off guard and I tried to pull over but that's hard on a busy road. While I sat there double parked, waiting for the cop to do something the following conversation went through my head.

"This is crazy," I thought. "I didn't do anything wrong. That cop isn't even in his car. I didn't see him wave me over. Maybe my passenger misunderstand the cop's signal. If I continue to sit here I'm going to get hit by another car. The cop's not even coming. He's like a half a block away. Besides, since when do I stop for cops who are standing by the side of the road just writing out tickets? This isn't Europe you know. "

So I started to drive away because obviously my stopping had been a mistake. Unfortunately just enough time had passed for the cop to get into his car and he came up behind me. At least he waited until there was actually room for me to pull over before he turned on his lights.

As it turns out I did an illegal U-turn. Is there such a thing in Boston? He says there were signs everywhere, but I was parked and couldn't see a sign. Then there's the whole issue of my crossing a double yellow line, which I thought just meant don't pass. I didn't realize it means you should make left turns or U-turns.

Fortunately I made it through with just written warning, but now I'm left wondering if is it possible to drive in Boston by following the driving laws instead of the driving customs. Perhaps the world will never know.

Oh ye plaques of Boston

I have many reasons for loving Boston, but my favorite is the historical plaques. You can go pretty much anywhere and find a plaque commemorating anything from Paul Revere's famous ride to the Great Molasses Flood.

Until recently my favorite has been the "Here once stood a tree" plaque in Cambridge Commons:


I'm still trying to figure out if it's commemorating the elections or the tree.

Then recently I found this plaque in Brighton:




I love it. So they are saying, somewhere.......not here.........perhaps within the surrounding 20 miles, there were some cattleyards that were important to our national/local history.

Someday, I halfway expect to stumble across a sign that says something like:

Here, beside this fence post,
General George Washington's dog Sweetlips*
relieved himself daily.
1773-1775

While I await that absolutely perfect plaque displayed for all see, I will simply have to enjoy the plaque my friend gave me to proudly display in my own home:


* According to my extensive and in depth research (I google searched it) this is the actual name of Gen. Washington's dog during that time period. Talk about a lame name. Why couldn't he have gone with something like Pepperjack, Spitfire, Alvin, Simon, or Theodore?

Graduated......sort of

I know, I know. I haven't posted in awhile, but in my defense I've been just a little busy. For instance I graduated............well, sort of.

It had all the telltale signs of a graduation.

1. My family came into town.

(The cardboard men in the background are stand-ins for my brothers. I'll let them fight over which one gets to be the one with the sword.)

2. I got decked out in my fine looking black robe and awesome hat.


3. I walked across a stage and got handed a really big diploma cover


4. And even received a t-shirt from the alumni association.

(which I promptly tie-dyed)

But alas the diploma cover is empty because I'm not quite done with school.


That is of course because I am completing a summer internship with the PBS kid's show FETCH! with Ruff Ruffman.

For those of you who don't know, FETCH is a wicked awesome gameshow where children are sent on all sorts of crazy fun challenges, like learning how to windsurf or building a successful lemonade stand. Since we are currently in production, I'm limited on what I can tell you, but I think it is safe to say that this is best internship ever. The only thing that would make it better is if I actually got a paycheck. ;)

hiccup hangup

"Is there a pig in the office?"
"Was that a sneeze?"
"Did someone fall down?"

"No, Aleigh just has the hiccups, AGAIN."

Have you ever heard me laugh? It's hardy, jovial, belly laugh that can be heard over great distances and above a crowd. When I see a funny movie, people often end up laughing more at my laugh than the movie. Now imagine all the sound and energy packed into an intense 1 sec burst--that would be my hiccup.

It's so ridiculously loud that people are concerned for my health when they hear it the first time.

"What's wrong?"
"Are you choking?"

It wouldn't be so bad if I only got the hiccups once a year. Unfortunately, I get them once a week, and with no warning. I've tried all the cures. Drinking upside-down, being startled, a spoonful of sugar, eating bread, holding my breath, beating my head against a wall. Nothing works.

Instead, I try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. If possible I keep my mouth shut which makes the hiccup sound more like a muffled squeak. Since it can still be heard across the room, it's only slightly less embarrassing. This is also how I pick up flattering nicknames like: guinea pig.

There are of course times when I have no choice but to speak and the hiccups, in all their glory, can be heard far and wide. The worst is when I'm on a phone with an important individual.

"I will be send**hiccup**ing that memo, ri**hiccup**ght now."
"Gesundheit"
"Oh it's just the hic**hiccop**cops. I'll be fi**hiccup**ne in just a **hiccup**"
"Why don't you give me a call again after lunch?"

Depending on the day the hiccups will vanish after a few seconds or minutes, and I count myself lucky that I am not the next Charles Osborne ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Osborne) .

Until ne**hiccup**xt time.

Weird Imagery

I ran across a literary metaphor that disturbed me terribly. Actually, it made me laugh, especially since there is a good possibility that I've used this metaphor myself.

The metaphor is:

Giving birth to an idea or concept

Perhaps, it's just me but the visual imagery far outweighs and overpowers the intended concept.

Imagine if you will:
A nurse smiles as she wraps a blanket around a roll of soiled documents, which she hands to the doctor. Cradling the swaddled documents in his arms, he approaches the woman exhausted and covered in sweat, lying on the table.

"Congratulations Mrs. Quagmire, it's the theoretical sketches for the Turbo Vacu-tattoo."

The beaming dad takes the documents from the doctor and brings it closer for his wife to dote on it.

"It's beautiful," he says.

"Isn't it? I want more pain meds" she says.

"Just think, just a few minutes ago it was growing inside you, and now...." he says.

"Did I mention that I want pain meds?" she says.

"This baby is going places. Just think of all the fun we'll have shaping it and helping it grow."

"Actually, I was hoping to sell it," she says.

"Sell it? No way, this is a labor of love," he says.

"I just went through labor, so I think it's got all the love it needs from me," she says

I could go on for hours with this one, but I'll spare you, and just skip to the point. This is a dumb metaphor. Giving birth is a terribly difficult process and it's extremely messy. The labor alone takes hours.

In contrast coming up with ideas isn't difficult. Anyone who's participated in a brainstorming session can attest to the ridiculous number of ideas which can be produced in a single hour. Granted most of the ideas are ridiculous, but the usability of the ideas is irrelevant. The fact remains that idea production is very easy and therefore cannot be accurately compared to giving birth.

A more accurate metaphor for the whole "idea" thing should be laying an egg. I don't know how easy it is to lay an egg, but considering that the price of a dozen eggs is cheaper than a gallon of milk, I'm going to assume that egg laying is fairly common place for chickens. And maybe we should reserve the birthing metaphor for something a little more complicated, like taking an idea through all the challenges, frustrations, and set-backs and actually making it happen.

Springtime Blues

It's springtime in New England. All the signs are here. Trees don't look quite as dead as they used to. Brightly colored WWII amphibious assault vehicles (aka Duckboats) carry tourist around to all the sights. You can even shed your heavy winter coat (provided you replace it with a heavy fleece jacket).

But the most telling sign that it is spring is that I wake up at 6:00 AM. Since mid-March, without any help from my alarm clock my body shouts, 'wakey, wakey' a good hour earlier than I would like. Some people may find this wonderful. I find it down right annoying. I like sleep. I particularly like staying asleep.

So imagine my surprise this morning when I woke up and saw the giant red numbers 7:03 on my alarm clock. I had slept an hour and 3 minutes past my automatic wakeup call. This obviously was going to be the best day ever. I rolled out of bed and carried out my normal morning routine, and headed out the door.

As I walked into my office, I noticed there was no one at the front desk. Since it appeared that I had also beaten the two other assistants into the office, I knew I'd need to cover for the receptionist until she got in. As I quickly went to my desk to drop off my things, I was stunned to see my boss in his office typing away on his computer. He's usually teaching when I get in on Tuesdays.

My mind raced to figure out why he was here, until I looked at the phone on my desk, where the clock blinked 8:00 AM.

"NO WAY!!" I said. My boss jumped out of the chair, and nearly died of shock.

So how did it happen? My alarm clock was off by an hour and I had never bothered to correct it since I don't use it much anymore.

Moral of the story: don't let mistakes go uncorrected, or you too could be early for work.

Mediation on the Go

Going back to the multi-tasking storyline, I forgot to mention another exercising snafu.

Due to an excessive amount of stress in my life, I decided that I needed to do some meditation. You know, clear my mind and release all of the built up tension. So I found a decent meditation album on itunes, and added it to my ipod. The only problem now was finding the time to actually do the meditation.

After an extremely brief contemplation, I decided that my mind is basically unoccupied while I'm on the treadmill, so I'd figured that would be a good time to mediate.

Imagine the following (my thoughts are in blue, mediation instructions are in red):

I stepped up on the treadmill, adjusted the speed and incline. Put on the headphone and began the mediation.

First find a comfortable place to sit or recline.
Uh-oh.
Now close your eyes.
I better hold on to the handles (remembering the last exercise snafu).
Tense your feet, and release. Let all of the stress flow out of your body.
I'll just pretend I did that.

The tensing and releasing continued for the entire body. It became a little easier once we got to the upper extremities. Then we move onto breathing.

Breath in deeply. Feel the air sink deep into your lungs. Hold the breathe....
I'm going to die.
Then breath out slowly.
Air, I need air.
Now breath in again, allowing the air to fill your body with energy.
Wonderful beautiful oxygen! Oh how I've missed you.
Hold the breath again....
This was a really dumb idea.

Oddly enough I did finally figure out a way to control my breathing while walking briskly on the treadmill.

Then I got curious about my heart rate. I looked at the heart monitor on the treadmill. My heart rate was about 15 bpm slower than normal. At first I was impressed that I could slow my heart rate while exercising, then it hit me. Why is heavens name would I want to slow down my heart rate! I'm exercising to get my heartbeat up!

And that was the end of my attempt at mediation on the go.

Verizon is Stalking Me.

4 months ago: Stopped Verizon service and signed a 2 year contract with AT&T

3.5 months ago: Received letter from Verizon saying they missed me and wanted me back.

3 months ago: Started getting annoyed with AT&T dropping my calls.

8 days ago: AT&T cell phone vanished.

7.5 days ago: Tried calling AT&T service for help. No customer service reps on Sunday.

7 days ago: Called AT&T, got annoyed with the rep, and asked about canceling contract.

6.5 days ago: Called AT&T got a different rep and ordered replacement phone. Purchased a piece-of-crap AT&T Go Phone to use until my replacement phone came in the mail.

6 days ago: Verizon Wireless called to do a survey about my service with Verizon and why I chose to leave.

5 days ago: Received replacement phone in the mail. Turned it on. Instantly hated phone. Instantly got another call from Verizon. This time with a survey of the politeness of previous surveyor.

4 days ago: Discovered that I could not retrieve my address book from my lost AT&T phone. Annoyed with AT&T service and AT&T phone.

3.5 days ago: Went into Verizon Store and switched back to Verizon.

3 days ago: My old Verizon contact list appeared on my new Verizon phone.

It could be a simple coincidence that Verizon contacted me so soon after my phone vanished. It might be chance that Verizon called again just as I considered tossing the AT&T replacement phone out the window. Or (and I like this theory best) it might be a conspiracy.

Perhaps Verizon has been stalking me for months waiting for the opportunity to win me back. If that's the case my phone was never "lost" it was taken by a Verizon Wireless operative who purposefully made me think that a small child had mistakenly picked it up. That same spy had been monitoring my conversations with AT&T and watching my mail and knew exactly when to contact me in order to catch me when I was at the height of frustration with AT&T.

I don't normally subscribe to conspiracy theories, but this one was a lot of fun to develop. ;)

RIP cell phone

"In memory of my cherished cellphone
along with the cherished phone numbers,
cherished pictures, and precious bejeweled game."

January 2008 - March 2008

Today, while on my way to church I lost my cellphone. I'm not sure how it happened. My only guess is that it fell off my lap and onto the ground as I got out of my car. I searched high and low, emptied my purse, ransacked my car, and still no sign of the phone. I had already borrowed a friend's phone to try calling my own phone, but I thought I'd try again with the hopes that someone, a kind, friendly soul would answer it.

Much to my surprise the ringing stopped, and I could hear voices in the background. I tried calling out to the voices I heard. I yelled and screamed so someone would hear. That went on for about 5 minutes until the phone hung up. I tried again, and the same thing happened. I hollered into the phone pleading for a response and then the phone hung up for the last time. I've called again repeatedly, and I've sent text messages, to no avail.

I know that I need to cancel my service, but I'm just hoping upon hope that the phone is actually in the posession of a small child and their parent will find it at any moment and try to return it to me. If I cancel my service, then that hope will be completely dead because there will be no way for the parent to call me back.

I'm not yet ready to face the fact that the phone is gone, and purchase a cheap replacement. But when in do, rest in peace my Sony Ericsson.

Somebody is Watching You

So I got this ominous email this morning:

As a courtesy, we are notifying you that Spokeo users have found the following accounts for you:

(username) on Flickr
(username) on Picasa

If you would like to make these accounts private, please
change the privacy settings on the original network and
Spokeo will update its search results to reflect your changes.

So first I googled Spokeo to know what I was dealing with. Once I was convinced that it is a legitimate website, I signed up for it to find out really what it was all about. SCARY.

After Spokeo took a look at all the email addresses in my contact list it told me exactly what my friends had added to the shopping cart at Amazon, what pictures they've added to Picasa and Flickr, what profile updates they had made to Friendster and My Space, and what new radio stations they've added to Pandora.

The problem is that this information is accessible to ANYONE who's address happened to be in my contact list. People I had only emailed once or twice. People I would rather not remember. And this of course means the reverse could be true. People who happen to have my email address from various places could see my blog entries and look at my pictures. This is not good.

If this information were only accessible to my good friends, I would love for them to be able to check out what I've been up to, and share with them my photos and profiles, but the general population need not be browsing my Amazon shopping cart. So sorry all you Spokeo users, I'm going to change my privacy settings on my accounts for Pandora, Amazon, Flixr, Picasa, etc so that they are unsearchable and I will no longer be visable on Spokeo.

Multi-tasking Disaster

or "How to fail at multi-tasking without even trying. "

When I arrived at the gym a couple days ago, I jumped onto my treadmill. Starting with a brisk walk at 3.5 miles per hour, I turned on my ipod to listen to some Russian Techno music for a good exercise beat. At my gym all the treadmills, stairmasters, and other repetitious exercise machines of boredom face a wall lined with TV's. Since I had nothing else to look at, I soon found myself alternately watching a movie on one TV and a television show on the other.

I was well engrossed in this media overload, when I accidentally knocked my ipod off and onto the treadmill track, where I promptly stepped on it and then watched it fall to the ground behind me. By this point, I had stopped walking and also fell to the ground behind my machine, again stepping on my ipod.

I picked up my ipod and **surprise** it still worked. I was so happy that I stepped right back onto the treadmill, and immediately crashed to my knees. That's what happens when you step onto a treadmill that's still going 3.5 miles per hour. I must have made quite a spectacle of myself with this fall since gym employees rushed over to see if I was all right and offer helpful advice like "maybe you should slow it down."

And that my friend is how I sustained two skinned knees and a battered ego, and an entertaining story of how multi-tasking brought me to your knees. ;)

Off the Wagon

Darn it. Two weeks. Two weeks without a Diet Coke, and I had to throw it all away. You know it's amazing how little self-control one exhibits in a complete melt down. I'm in the middle of my 4th can, and if someone were to try and take it away from me right now, they'd do so at the risk of losing a limb.

I guess I get to start all over again tomorrow. At least I know that I can make it at least two weeks.

Diet Coke Detox

I decided last week that I needed to kick my Diet Coke habit. The back of my throat was scratchy and raw from the large quantities of artificial sweetened battery acid I was consuming. I even had sores in my mouth. I was up to about 3-5 cans a day, and I simply needed to be done with the stuff.

I’ve tried kicking this habit before to little avail, but this time I had a plan. I was going to use a “patch” for when the headaches hit or I had an overwhelming desire to drink a two-liter bottle. I bought a bottle of No-Doz which I would only use in emergencies. A half a pill contains about the same amount of caffeine as 2 cans of Diet Coke. With this patch in my arsenal I figured I was well on my way to recovery.

I quickly discovered a couple problems. One there is something else in Diet Coke that I’m addicted to. Perhaps it’s the artificial sweetener or it’s a psychological dependency. Regardless, I find myself sitting at my desk—my mouth watering for a DC and that’s after taking a No-Doz “patch.” Problem two—exhaustion. I am a night owl. I stay up until at least 11 PM, but without the large quantities of caffeine I’m dying at about 10:30 PM. It was so bad last night that I honestly contemplated sleeping on my floor half naked because I was too tired to clear off my bed and finish changing into my pajamas.

Well I’m only on day 4 so maybe this will get easier.

Fortune-Telling

I have 3 or 4 baby name books. No, I’m not pregnant. There’s just something I find fascinating about names and their meanings so I collect name books, my favorite being a reverse name dictionary where it is arranged by meaning instead of name.

One day while flipping through the book I decided to play a game. I closed my eyes, opened the book randomly, pointed to a name, and that would be the name of the man I will marry. I nearly died with laughter when I opened my eyes and saw the name under my finger. It was that of my current and frustratingly persistent crush. Let’s call him Frog.

Frog is not a realistic option for me, so I set about debunking this fortune-telling fluke. First I played a round of MASH, a game normally played by elementary school children to predict their spouse, type of home, number of kids, and car they will have the future. Although it didn’t have me married to Frog (thank goodness), it had me married to a former crush living in a shack with 7 kids yet somehow we could afford a BMW. Obviously MASH lacked validity

So then I decided to visit the dictionary to play a variation of the game that got me into this whole fortune-telling mess. Here you ask the dictionary a question, close your eyes, open the dictionary randomly and point at a word. You do this three times and that should somehow answer your question. I decided to do some test runs first.

What is the meaning of life?

Answer: Jock, disdain, offseason.

Describe my personality:

Answer: fun, Shaker, circumnavigate

Describe my next love:

Answer: prove, patient, capitalize

I didn’t bother asking the dictionary about Frog since its answers weren’t making any sense, so I resorted to the Magic 8 ball.

Will I marry (name of a different boy I find mildly amusing)?

Answer: Maybe

Will I marry Frog?

Answer: Absolutely

Will Frog and I be happy together?

Answer: Absolutely

Still unwilling to succumb to my fate of marrying Frog, I returned to the name dictionary and tried the fortune-telling one more time. I closed my eyes.....................

opened the book randomly,...............

pointed to a name,....................

and the name was.....................

Norbert
(aka not Frog)