08-30-05
It always sounds like English is my second language.
In addition to writing disorganized, commariffic entries here, I am now also writing disorganized, commariffic entries for the library blog. They usually have about five sentences in them and take me about six hours to write, because I am bad at it and have to do about 1000 rewrites on every one (and that does not even count the time I spend trying to decide on a topic). And even when they're done, they are still bad. I manage to make things that I really like sound entirely unappealing.
Sometimes I email them to the roommate to critique before I post it, and she'll be like, "This is fine. I don't know why you're so worried about it." And I'll write back something like, "IT SUCKS AND YOU ARE A LIAR," in extra-large red letters. Today I started entries on summerteeth, Picnic and Seconds, and they all started out terrible and then got worse ("If Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is Wilco's OK Computer then summerteeth is their The Bends (the album with better songs on it that is unjustly ignored in light of the band's later success).").
To make to make things worse, I actually worry about the blog entries while I'm not at work. And the whole point of having a job like mine is that it interferes minimally with your real life. Although I guess the real whole point of having a job like mine is making money. But minimal interference is also important.
Unrelatedly, my dad just called to say tell me that the rain we're getting is hurricane-related. That was his whole reason for calling. It was weird.
08-29-05
Productive and dedicated, but in no useful ways.
I currently own seven boxes of cereal. Over half of them are some variation of Cheerios. Only one of them can be open at a time because I can't face any sort of decision in the morning.
Recently I made a schedule of two weeks worth of clothing in order to do the least possible amount of laundry before going to my parents' house for Labor Day while still having clean(ish) clothes every day. My mornings are humming along at a speed that I couldn't previously even have imagined. I don't usually work until 1, and before I would stay in my pseudo-pajamas* and think about how I hated all of my clothes until about 12:30, at which point I would just grab something out of my closet and hope that it didn't require ironing. Now, though, I look at my schedule and think, "Today we are wearing the stripey shirt and the denim skirt. All RIGHT!"
Yesterday I didn't want to wear what was on the schedule and I thought about switching yesterday's clothing with Thursday's. And then I thought, "No. The schedule does not work if we don't stick with it!" And I put on those clothes that I didn't want to wear and I went to work. And I felt puffy and ugly all day, but at least I didn't mess with the schedule.
It is weird that I can be so organized and dedicated about this when I haven't balanced my checkbook since 1999. I usually just look at my account online and think, "Well, everything seems to be in order. . ." And then I close the window before my poorness can fully sink in.
Today I didn't have to work, so there were no clothes on my schedule which didn't mean that I didn't have to get dressed. It did mean that I didn't have to wash my hair or shave my legs and could make origami balloons and watch tv all day. And download microsoft office for free thanks to liberry school. And, upon downloading microsoft ofice, immediately make the most annoying powerpoint presentation ever. And clean and decorate my room, which has been almost completely without adornment since I moved in a year ago. Also, my head cyst exploded again (the fact that I didn't mention the first time my head cyst exploded is amazing, since I only like my body when it is doing something gross). It was actually an unusually productive day for me.
*pajamas which I do not wear to bed, but which I wear around the house post-shower, while I'm eating breakfast and drying my hair
**I don't think that I actually own a stripey shirt, but the real schedule is written in my very own cryptic shorthand***.
***Kim's very own cryptic shorthand=messy printing+improper english+nicknames for clothing that don't really make any sense. (Do you think you could identify my 'cult shirt?' I don't think that you could.)
08-24-05
Why I don't generally update (or talk or do anything where I need to make logical sense) in the morning.
Every day I am incredibly surprised that I'm able to squeeze more toothpaste out of this tube. I think that it might be magic toothpaste. A neverending fount of toothpaste. Enough toothpaste to cleanse the teeth of a nation.
08-23-05
A dead end road means you end up dead.
When I was little, my friend Beth and I rode our bikes all the way to the end of my dead end road. There was a path through the woods that continued from the end of the road and we decided to ride to the end of that, too. When we got to the end, there was a rickety old gate, lots of no trespassing signs and ominous-looking trees. We made up stories about what could be beyond that gate until we were both good and scared, and rode our bikes back to Beth's house, quite a lot faster than we had ridden on the way there.
Beth's dad was at Beth's house and we told him where we had been.
He said, "Oh, that's Ludema's Sod Farm."
And we were both pretty crushed. Because there is nothing that is more boring than a sod farm.
(This entry was brought to you by the fact that I had kid food for dinner. Food made from kids.)
(It was macaroni and cheese and cookies.)
(The mac and cheese had zucchini and yellow squash and tomatoes in it, but it was still mac and cheese. And the cookies had zucchini in them, but they were still cookies.)
(Later adventures with Beth included a picnic in a cemetary and almost getting hit by a train.)
08-20-05
I am usually fueled by cereal and turmoil.
Yesterday I went to new student orientation for library school. It was more successful than my undergrad orientation in that I didn't call my parents and cry. Also, there was pizza (instead of bad cafeteria food) and it was over in only five hours (instead of three days).
I patted myself on the back for remembering to figure in rush hour traffic and gave myself 45 extra minutes to get to Detroit. I arrived at the school exactly 45 minutes early, because either there is no rush hour in Detroit or I somehow managed to miss the whole thing. I sat in my car and angrily thought about how much longer I could've slept, but then decided that it didn't matter because I probably wouldn't have slept much anyway, since I kept having nightmares about the whole orientation thing (my undergrad orientation was incredibly unpleasant (hence the crying)) and waking up. So, I arrived very early, filled with turmoil and corn Chex and left five hours later whistling The Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song and wondering why I'd been so worried. Usually the things I worry about turn out to be not really worth it, but knowing that never stops me from worrying about them.
08-17-05
At last! A post about what I think about while showering!
I get really bored in the shower. I've streamlined my showers for maximum cleanness/least water wastage/shortest time, but I still get bored and if I shave any more time off of anything I wouldn't actually be clean. Plus, I'm not sure that there is an area where I could take time off. My feet need pumicing like people need food and shelter and a good night's sleep. The repeat part of my lather, rinse, repeat cycle was abandoned months ago, and until winter I will stick with my intensive leg shaving plan (no stubble in 2005!). So instead I've been picking topics to focus on for the duration of my shower. Topics have included:
- The dismal fate of civilization if I had been in charge of human development. Even beyond the fact that I don't have the technical knowledge to create most things, there are lots of really useful things that I never would have thought of, like hair dryers (a machine used solely to dry hair? crazy!), tampons and light bulbs. And there are all kinds of foods we wouldn't be eating. I would never look at a watermelon and think, "Hey! I bet there is something sweet and pink and delicious in there!" I would look at a watermelon and think, "Hmm, maybe I can stand on that weird green tube in order to reach the apples growing on that tree." And then I would fall off of it and break my arm, which would heal crookedly because I wouldn't have thought of using a splint.
- Television theme songs that explain the show's backstory.The Beverly Hillbillies is pretty much the ultimate example of this, and maybe Gilligan's Island, but I haven't seen it for a while and can't really remember the theme song. Also, Green Acres sort of does it. And Mr. Ed (it's not as detailed as the others, but it does really emphasize the whole talking horse thing). And The Brady Bunch, which I've never actually watched but still somehow know the theme song to. Then I started to wonder if this phenomenon is limited only to old tv shows, and I know I thought of a modern show (at least more modern than any of these), but now I can't remember what it is.
- Why don't the Lockhorns just get a divorce already? Is it some kind of insurance or green card issue? They've repeatedly gone to counseling, and it seems like at some point they would just be able to admit to each other that their marriage is really not working out.
- I don't read books the way that I used to. I used to find a new author that I liked and read everything they wrote right away. Now I think, "Well, if I don't read them all right now I'll have something to look forward to later," except then I never actually get around to reading them. Basically now I am reading many more books than I used to read, but I never read the same author twice (not actually true, since I like Cloud Atlas so much that I'm now reading Ghostwritten (of course, I did read Cloud Atlas three or four months ago and the old me would've read all three of David Mitchell's books by now). Also, I must've started reading Haruki Murakami at approximately the same time that I began switching over from the old me to the new me, because I read about half of his books and then just stopped. And it's not because I don't want to read them. It's because I want to know that they're always available for me. It is a weird way to live.
It is ugly and fascinating and has given me a reason to look forward to September 13. I think a preorder may be just around the corner.
08-16-05
Not being able to focus on problems for an extended period of time makes them stop being problems.
I don't like to focus on money problems too directly. Today it's gone something like this:
"I have to spend $100 on Microsoft Office? (I have tried to avoid the inevitable, but I now have to face the fact that library school will not let me hand in papers written in notepad.) I might as well just buy a whole new computer*! Plus it's not like I want to be seen in public with my piece of junk laptop. It would not hurt to look at the Dell website. Hey! I can almost afford one of these! I would rather have an iBook, but I think that looking at the Apple website right now would cause nothing but heartbreak."
(Time passes as I leave work, eat a BLT, and get the mail.)
"Hey! Mail for me! I love getting mail. Although it is from the school. And it does sort of look like it might be a bill. And oh my, it is a bill. And hey! I can afford to pay it! But I can't afford to go on living after I pay it. And where is my financial aid? And,um. Will I even be able to afford to get my hair cut on Thursday? Oh man, the next step is ice cream. Ice cream now."
(I go to get some ice cream** and return home. Ice cream made me happier.)
"Whatever, I'll just have more loans to pay. It would totally not hurt to look at those iBooks now. Wow, I was wrong. Browsing iBooks is depressing even while I have a healthy attitude towards poorness. But I do always say that I would rather pay a little more for something that I really want rather than paying less for something that I don't like as much. But I don't need a new laptop. I never take this one anywhere anyway, but is that because I hate it? And because it sometimes makes those noises? Other people look so happy out in public with their computers. And OH! I nearly forgot that the stupid CD drive only works with programs that it wants to work with. Will I ever be able to back up all of the pictures on here? Why didn't I back up the pictures before, while the drive was actually working? Why do I have two folders full of pictures of cows? Why do I have a picture of pie that wasn't even mine?"
(Time out while I brush my teeth and remember that money was the original source of my worry. While looking in the mirror decide:)
"The no haircut option is officially not an option. Like the ice cream, haircut money will make no major difference toward my bill, and I will feel 100 times better if I don't have dried out ends of hair hanging on my neck all the time. I mean, I'll feel better as long as I don't go overboard on the shortness. And I definitely will go overboard on the shortness unless I find a picture of how it should look and I can never find pictures of hair when I need them! Can I use this one? That doesn't seem that much shorter than my hair now, but it has a better shape . . ."
etc. I think my point was that I manage to distract myself every time money problems arise. Sometimes (usually) the point I am trying to make is unclear even to me.
*I realize that the logic on this is completely wrong, because even if I bought a new computer I'd still have to buy Microsoft Office. But whatever.
**The ice cream step is also illogical in that I had to pay money for the ice cream. But the thing is, when you have a bill like the one I had, spending $2 on ice cream seems completely inconsequential.
08-15-05
Lard and bacon grease and Bob Andy pie.
This weekend I had more family festivities, which was ok because now I don't have to see anyone again for long time. There was a cookout and something called Bob Andy Pie made by my grandma. No one would tell me what Bob Andy pie is, so I assumed it was made from people and didn't eat any until someone was talking to someone else and said, "It's a custard pie! With nutmeg!" So I tried some. It was really good and I said that I liked it. Liking the pie seemed to make everyone think that I wanted the recipe, because someone said that it is in the Mennonite cookbook (which I don't have) and someone else said that it is in the Zook cookbook (which I do have), and then someone else said that since most of the Zooks are Mennonites, can't we just call the Zook cookbook the Mennonite cookbook (only if you want complete anarchy)? Then I said that I don't know how to make a pie crust anyway, so having the recipe doesn't really do me a lot of good.
My mom said I could get my grandma (my other grandma. not the one that made the pie) to teach to make a pie crust, because she is a legendary maker of pie crusts. I'm pretty sure she uses lard, though. I'm also fairly sure that if I asked her if she could teach me to make a pie crust not using lard, the following conversation would happen:
"Hey grandma, can you teach me to make a pie crust that doesn't have lard in it?"
"Do you want to make a good pie crust?"
"Yes, but-"
"THEN YOU NEED LARD!"
So I guess what I'm saying is, if anyone has a good, lard-free pie crust recipe, you should share it with me so I can make a Bob Andy pie.
Last night we ate BLTs for dinner (it makes me sad to think about how many BLTs I missed out on eating during all of those years that I didn't like tomatoes), and as my mom was throwing out the bacon grease she said, "You can use this to make popcorn." And I was like, "EWWWWW!" And she said, "My mom (the lard pie crust lady) used to make us popcorn in bacon grease sometimes. It's good. It's just popcorn with a little bacon flavor." And I was like, "EWWWWWW!" But now that I think about it, I'm not sure why I was so horrified. I like bacon. I like popcorn. Why wouldn't I like bacon-flavored popcorn? (I think that if I was actually looking at some bacon grease right now I would go back to being horrified.)
08-09-05
Family reunion days 2 and 3: Making a weekend seem like a lifetime.
I think my entire family reunion experience can be summed up in writing that one time my dad caught me hiding almost underneath the car. I said, "Uh, I came out here to get something to drink." But, like I said, I was almost underneath the car. So I don't think that he believed me. (Three days is a LONG time to spend with a bunch of people that you don't really know that well. And there was nowhere to go where there wasn't someone else around that would see me trying to avoid being around people. Which is why I was nearly under the car.)
In addition to familial overexposure, the reunion also involved old people singing about being old and an unattended soft serve ice cream machine. Also, somebody greeted me with "You look like someone who doesn't get out in the sun very much." I explained that I spend plenty of time in the sun, I just wear SPF 45. And sometimes a hat.
After the reunion was over, my aunt and uncle and cousin and grandparents went to my parents house and we ate pizza. My grandpa exclaimed over the diet grape Faygo and said something about how he hasn't seen diet purple grape soda in years. I kept saying, "It's new! They haven't been making it very long!" but no one was listening to me, even though I was probably the leading authority on diet grape soda in that room. It bothers me when one of my very few areas of expertise is unappreciated.
08-06-05
Family reunion day 1: Lessons learned from name tags.
I am 24 years old, and tonight was the first time that I ever realized that I have both a great-aunt Marcella and a great-aunt Marzella. I always thought that people were just pronouncing one name in slightly different ways. Which is weird, since I've seen both of them before. And I knew that one of them is my grandma's sister and one is my grandma's brother's wife, so I didn't think that they are the same person. So I don't know why I never came to the realization that I was hearing two different names.
Also, even though I know what her name is, I am always a little surprised that my great-aunt Joan's name is pronounced "jo-ann."
08-03-05
Today: ants. Friday: aunts!
The D & W people replied to my pretzel email within 30 minutes. It was actually nice to have proof that my emails to people are actually being delivered, because lately I feel like everything I think I send just vanishes into oblivion. Because 'email malfunction' is a nicer thought than 'nobody likes me.' (And, to venture further into the realm of self-pity, I've only been writing emails of the congratulatory type to these people, not emails that blather on and on about myself (I have a diaryland for that.). And it seems like the least they could do is write back and say, "Thanks for your email. My [birthday/event/move] went [well/badly/was cancelled due to inclement weather]. Please do not email me in the future because I do not wish to have anything to do with you anymore." I'd at least like a clean break. I am not good with fuzzily-defined relationships.)
Anyway. Tonight I made zucchini oatmeal walnut chocolate chip raisin cookies. They have a shorter name, but I did not get where I am today by calling things by their shorter names. I dropped the first pan of them on the floor, which made me sad, then I picked up the pan from the floor without realizing that it would still be hot from the oven, which made me injured. And if food/money waste and minor burns weren't enough, the cookies aren't even that good. I could've used that zucchini for other delicious purposes (although I would probably just have eaten it raw, since I'm usually very lazy) (actually, I should have skipped the cookies entirely and made zucchini pineapple bread for my family reunion this weekend (everyone is supposed to bring a loaf of bread Friday, for reasons that are unclear).
Now I have to put my cookies away before ants crawl all over them (ants have probably already crawled all over them).
08-03-05
I totally did not really intend to hit send.
I just wrote a disgruntled email to D & W about the fact that their store-brand pretzels now contain 1.5 grams of fat (even though the package still says fat free on the front) and partially hydrogenated soybean oil.
When did I become a crazy lady with way too much time on my hands?
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