Coffee Table Declarations
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
I'd like to post something, but I'm so very sleepy so I will just ramble on about the things floating through my head.
I had such a wonderful and relaxing long weekend. And then last night I couldn't sleep. I was too hot and then a headache woke me up at 2 am. Then I was too hot and in too much pain. So I turned on the tv and started to channel surf. I found a show on the science channel about how the brain works. It was a good choice up until they started talking about when things go wrong and for an example a woman started explaining how for quite a while she thought that an 8 foot long black spider was telling her what to do. That didn't help me feel relaxed or any less ill.
Good things about today: a new lunch place came in with menus to promote their business and they brought me a free lunch. I'm all about free food.
Also, a girl who works at a company upstairs but sells make-up on the side came down to deliver my latest make-up order. I'm all about make-up.
I'm not all about spiders telling people what to do.
I've been tagged for another meme but I figured I owed it to the tagger not to write some lame half assed response. Pardon me for being lame and half assed today.
I had such a wonderful and relaxing long weekend. And then last night I couldn't sleep. I was too hot and then a headache woke me up at 2 am. Then I was too hot and in too much pain. So I turned on the tv and started to channel surf. I found a show on the science channel about how the brain works. It was a good choice up until they started talking about when things go wrong and for an example a woman started explaining how for quite a while she thought that an 8 foot long black spider was telling her what to do. That didn't help me feel relaxed or any less ill.
Good things about today: a new lunch place came in with menus to promote their business and they brought me a free lunch. I'm all about free food.
Also, a girl who works at a company upstairs but sells make-up on the side came down to deliver my latest make-up order. I'm all about make-up.
I'm not all about spiders telling people what to do.
I've been tagged for another meme but I figured I owed it to the tagger not to write some lame half assed response. Pardon me for being lame and half assed today.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Last night a friend suggested we go to a Mexican place I'd never tried before. She said it was very good and very "traditional". As everyone knows, I am a Mexican food connoisseur, so I was excited to try a new place.
As we perused the menu, my friend said, "the chicken tacos and the pork tacos are both really good". I was perplexed because there were no vegetarian offerings which I tend to prefer. If I could commit to anything, I would become a vegetarian but because I'm highly non-committal, I decided to give the pork tacos a try.
The types of tacos were as follows: steak, chicken, pork, and tounge. There was "tounge" just listed along side the other choices as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "yes, I'd like to order the tounge tacos please." "Hmmm... such a tough choice. Could I get a chicken taco and a tounge taco please?" "Boy, am I glad we came here because they have my favorite, tounge tacos." It just didn't seem right. My friend assured me, "well they're very traditional here." Correct me if I'm wrong but I didn't think tounge was a traditional Mexican dish. In fact, I can't picture a Mexican family sitting around for a fiesta, table full of jalapenos and corn tortillas and a big bowl full of medium-well tounge.
My pork tacos came out and I noticed the pork was very reddish in color, much like the pork at Chinese restaurants. For a minute I thought they might have mistaken my order and brought me tounge by accident. Or maybe no one ever orders the tounge so they have to slip it in. I tasted the taco and it was really good. Imagine if just then the waitress came back and said, "oh I'm sorry, you'd didn't order tounge did you? Let me just send these back."
As we perused the menu, my friend said, "the chicken tacos and the pork tacos are both really good". I was perplexed because there were no vegetarian offerings which I tend to prefer. If I could commit to anything, I would become a vegetarian but because I'm highly non-committal, I decided to give the pork tacos a try.
The types of tacos were as follows: steak, chicken, pork, and tounge. There was "tounge" just listed along side the other choices as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "yes, I'd like to order the tounge tacos please." "Hmmm... such a tough choice. Could I get a chicken taco and a tounge taco please?" "Boy, am I glad we came here because they have my favorite, tounge tacos." It just didn't seem right. My friend assured me, "well they're very traditional here." Correct me if I'm wrong but I didn't think tounge was a traditional Mexican dish. In fact, I can't picture a Mexican family sitting around for a fiesta, table full of jalapenos and corn tortillas and a big bowl full of medium-well tounge.
My pork tacos came out and I noticed the pork was very reddish in color, much like the pork at Chinese restaurants. For a minute I thought they might have mistaken my order and brought me tounge by accident. Or maybe no one ever orders the tounge so they have to slip it in. I tasted the taco and it was really good. Imagine if just then the waitress came back and said, "oh I'm sorry, you'd didn't order tounge did you? Let me just send these back."
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
I just finished reading "Surviving Saturn's Return". The fact is, it takes Saturn exactly 29 and a half years to complete one rotation around the sun. Therefore, when you are 29 and a half (or thereabouts) Saturn is in the same spot that it was in when you were born. This means big changes.
I found the book in a new age book store where I specifically asked if they had anything about Saturn's return and was immediately reassured by the kindly saleswoman, "oh yes, that's a big deal." I started the book and felt as though it was speaking to me personally. There was all this stuff about tumultuous upheaval in the form of moves, break ups, career calamity, life decisions, etc.
Then it got a little more specific by saying which sign Saturn was in during different dates (Leo for the day I was born) and then describing the life lesson associated with that sign. It made a whole lot of sense. It would seem that my Saturn lesson is about creativity and learning to know and love myself. As I look back over the last couple years (supposedly anytime during your late 20's can count as the time of your Saturn return) I can see that being true. A lot of what I read was meaningful to me.
However, here's my problem with the whole thing. Saturn stays in each sign for about two years so that means that every person who was born in the same two year period as me is experiencing dramatic changes regarding embracing who they are and who they are becoming? That describes just about everyone I know. Also? I am the one out of my same-aged peers who is still unmarried, without kids, wandering aimlessly through life without career ambition or purposeful direction. Except for my one good friend who is pretty much in the same boat and we have the exact same birthday so that at least makes sense. All my other friends who are my age seem to have it all figured out. How can we all be facing the same issues at the same time?
I love astrology but there are some loopholes. I once knew two girls who were identical twins born only minutes apart and they were like night and day. How could only a few minutes make such an extreme difference in terms of the cosmos?
On an astrological side note, several years ago I knew a guy who was 29 years old (saturn return), born in the sign of Capricorn (ruled by Saturn), drove a Saturn, and loved to play video games on his Sega Saturn. Weird.
I found the book in a new age book store where I specifically asked if they had anything about Saturn's return and was immediately reassured by the kindly saleswoman, "oh yes, that's a big deal." I started the book and felt as though it was speaking to me personally. There was all this stuff about tumultuous upheaval in the form of moves, break ups, career calamity, life decisions, etc.
Then it got a little more specific by saying which sign Saturn was in during different dates (Leo for the day I was born) and then describing the life lesson associated with that sign. It made a whole lot of sense. It would seem that my Saturn lesson is about creativity and learning to know and love myself. As I look back over the last couple years (supposedly anytime during your late 20's can count as the time of your Saturn return) I can see that being true. A lot of what I read was meaningful to me.
However, here's my problem with the whole thing. Saturn stays in each sign for about two years so that means that every person who was born in the same two year period as me is experiencing dramatic changes regarding embracing who they are and who they are becoming? That describes just about everyone I know. Also? I am the one out of my same-aged peers who is still unmarried, without kids, wandering aimlessly through life without career ambition or purposeful direction. Except for my one good friend who is pretty much in the same boat and we have the exact same birthday so that at least makes sense. All my other friends who are my age seem to have it all figured out. How can we all be facing the same issues at the same time?
I love astrology but there are some loopholes. I once knew two girls who were identical twins born only minutes apart and they were like night and day. How could only a few minutes make such an extreme difference in terms of the cosmos?
On an astrological side note, several years ago I knew a guy who was 29 years old (saturn return), born in the sign of Capricorn (ruled by Saturn), drove a Saturn, and loved to play video games on his Sega Saturn. Weird.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Let's say your company received a piece of mail in the daily delivery that was addressed to someone you'd never heard of, but looked important. Let's say that instead of just tossing it into the trash along with the usual junk mail and mail for former employees, you thought "gosh, this looks important". And then let's say that you took a red pen and wrote on it "return to sender, not at this address" in large letters and then you circled the return address and drew a big arrow pointing to it and with the same red pen, drew a huge "X" over the intended recipient's faulty address. Let's say you did all this and then put the mail back into the outgoing bin only to find the very same piece of mail returned to you again in the daily delivery of incoming mail a few days later. What would you surmise about the US Postal Service? Something unkind, I'll tell you that.
Sorry, that's all I've got right now. This unending rainy, 40 degree weather is draining my will to write. I'm serious - it's been cold and rainy for days and at least the past 5 weekends. Don't believe me?
Sorry, that's all I've got right now. This unending rainy, 40 degree weather is draining my will to write. I'm serious - it's been cold and rainy for days and at least the past 5 weekends. Don't believe me?
Thursday, May 19, 2005
I got six inches of my hair cut off on Saturday. Six inches! And it's still generously past my shoulders. I like it like this but I will be letting it grow long again. I just needed a change.
After my haircut, I also got my eyebrows done. The lady doing them was chatting with me and she asked where I was from and I told her that I grew up in the town we were in but that I now lived in my new town. I told her my mom and sister come to that salon often because they still live in the town. Then I was randomly babbling and said how I had just moved into my apartment a month ago. She asked if I had roommates and I said yes. Then she asked how I liked living on my own. "Oh, I love it!" I replied.
Then I lay there wondering why she asked me that. I had just told her I had roommates so she wasn't asking how I liked living alone... on my own...what did she mean? Why would you ask an adult who has lived in various apartments for the past five and a half years how she liked living on her own? And then I realized what she meant. If the realization had been a dog, it would've bit me. She interpreted the fact that I look like really young and the fact that I said how my parents still lived there and I just moved into my apartment a month ago, to mean that I just moved out of my parents' house for the first time!
Honestly, this is the kind of craziness I have to deal with. It is nice to look young but it is really frustrating having people take me less seriously at work or talk down to me like I'm just a kid fresh out of college or worse, to have people recoil in shock when I tell them I'm 29. Sometimes they even argue with me, "You are not!" Yes, I really am. Do you need to see my id now?
The funny thing is, I still feel young too. When someone is say, 30 or 32, I still think they are much older than I am. I have to remind myself they are only a little older. I also expect people to be older based on certain clues. One of the realtors who showed us apartments dressed very professionally and talked about her husband and the house they owned. She was pretty and sophisticated and married with a professional "career". She asked us how old we were and then when we asked her she said "guess". (Side note, why the heck do people say that? When people ask me I simply say, "I'm a lot older than you think I am" and then I tell them.) I thought this realtor had to have been older than me so I thought about how old I was and then added a smidge. "Um... 30?" I asked thinking she was probably more like 31 or 32 and she would feel complimented. She was 23 and she was insulted. The fact that she was insulted by 30 made me feel insulted. All of this insult could've been averted if she had simply told me her age.
After my haircut, I also got my eyebrows done. The lady doing them was chatting with me and she asked where I was from and I told her that I grew up in the town we were in but that I now lived in my new town. I told her my mom and sister come to that salon often because they still live in the town. Then I was randomly babbling and said how I had just moved into my apartment a month ago. She asked if I had roommates and I said yes. Then she asked how I liked living on my own. "Oh, I love it!" I replied.
Then I lay there wondering why she asked me that. I had just told her I had roommates so she wasn't asking how I liked living alone... on my own...what did she mean? Why would you ask an adult who has lived in various apartments for the past five and a half years how she liked living on her own? And then I realized what she meant. If the realization had been a dog, it would've bit me. She interpreted the fact that I look like really young and the fact that I said how my parents still lived there and I just moved into my apartment a month ago, to mean that I just moved out of my parents' house for the first time!
Honestly, this is the kind of craziness I have to deal with. It is nice to look young but it is really frustrating having people take me less seriously at work or talk down to me like I'm just a kid fresh out of college or worse, to have people recoil in shock when I tell them I'm 29. Sometimes they even argue with me, "You are not!" Yes, I really am. Do you need to see my id now?
The funny thing is, I still feel young too. When someone is say, 30 or 32, I still think they are much older than I am. I have to remind myself they are only a little older. I also expect people to be older based on certain clues. One of the realtors who showed us apartments dressed very professionally and talked about her husband and the house they owned. She was pretty and sophisticated and married with a professional "career". She asked us how old we were and then when we asked her she said "guess". (Side note, why the heck do people say that? When people ask me I simply say, "I'm a lot older than you think I am" and then I tell them.) I thought this realtor had to have been older than me so I thought about how old I was and then added a smidge. "Um... 30?" I asked thinking she was probably more like 31 or 32 and she would feel complimented. She was 23 and she was insulted. The fact that she was insulted by 30 made me feel insulted. All of this insult could've been averted if she had simply told me her age.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
The other night in the bathroom I encountered a bug that makes spiders seem like cuddly puppies. And you know how I feel about spiders. I am going to post a link to what the bug looks like but I want to warn you that the picture is quite graphic. People who are sensitive to the sight of grotesque bugs should proceed at their own risk. Here is the visiting arthropod. I warned you.
I was about to take a shower and I pulled back the curtain to see one of those bad boys sitting in the tub. His body was an inch long but add the legs to that and we're talking a serious problem. I was frozen in fear for a good two minutes while my brain tried to process the situation. Of course no one else was home so I had to deal with it myself. I recently was gifted by my parents a sort of "bug vacuum" which has a long clear tube and looks somewhat like a light saber. You push the button and the offending bug gets sucked into the tube. Of course, then you have to take him someplace and let him out again. I have tried this once so far with a spider and even though there was a thick piece of plastic between him and I, it still felt a little too close for my comfort.
I couldn't bring myself to use the bug vacuum on our multi-legged friend. For one thing, I don't think he would've even fit into the tube without contorting in some horrific way. I opted instead to try drowning him. I turned the shower on until he stopped moving. Then I turned it off, went in the kitchen and made a cup of tea. When I returned to the bathroom I found him crawling around once again. I turned the shower on again and he slid toward the drain (not actually into the drain - he wouldn't fit). Then I ran the water for several minutes directly onto him while loudly muttering "why won't you die?" Doesn't this sound like a gruesome scene from a horror movie?
When the beast was sufficiently waterlogged, I turned the shower off and went about my business. One roommate finally arrived home, but she is just as squeamish as I am. I showed her the result of the carnage and she had to turn away. When our other roommate, the calm environmental loving scientist came home, we assaulted her. The first roommate explained that she had periodically been checking to make sure the bug was still there and he had been twitching. Apparently he had a profound will to live. We dragged my other roommate into the bathroom and gasped to find the bug missing. This cannot be good news for future showers.
My scientific roommate explained that centipedes do not come up from the drain (as I previously thought) but fall into the tub and are unable to get out. The ones people see are the ones that have had the misfortune of falling into the tub... but there are ones people don't see because they RUN REALLY FAST. If that isn't the best news I've heard lately I don't know what is. Yikes!
I don't know why my new apartment is like the nature channel, but it did give me a good idea for a reality show. Instead of making people eat bugs like that (ewwwww, go ahead, take another good look at that picture and then tell me how much I would have to pay you to eat one of those), how about getting bug-phobic people to live in a bug infested apartment for one month. Can you envision the drama?
My nature-loving roommate reminded me that I am bigger and smarter than any bug. But maybe that's the problem isn't it? I mean if the bug had more intelligence and I encountered it as I did, maybe it would say, "Why hello Katie, I was just hanging out here in your bathtub. Sorry if I startled you. Oh were you thinking of taking a shower? Pardon me, let me just get right out of your way" and I would reply, "no please, after you" and there would be harmony throughout the animal kingdom.
I was about to take a shower and I pulled back the curtain to see one of those bad boys sitting in the tub. His body was an inch long but add the legs to that and we're talking a serious problem. I was frozen in fear for a good two minutes while my brain tried to process the situation. Of course no one else was home so I had to deal with it myself. I recently was gifted by my parents a sort of "bug vacuum" which has a long clear tube and looks somewhat like a light saber. You push the button and the offending bug gets sucked into the tube. Of course, then you have to take him someplace and let him out again. I have tried this once so far with a spider and even though there was a thick piece of plastic between him and I, it still felt a little too close for my comfort.
I couldn't bring myself to use the bug vacuum on our multi-legged friend. For one thing, I don't think he would've even fit into the tube without contorting in some horrific way. I opted instead to try drowning him. I turned the shower on until he stopped moving. Then I turned it off, went in the kitchen and made a cup of tea. When I returned to the bathroom I found him crawling around once again. I turned the shower on again and he slid toward the drain (not actually into the drain - he wouldn't fit). Then I ran the water for several minutes directly onto him while loudly muttering "why won't you die?" Doesn't this sound like a gruesome scene from a horror movie?
When the beast was sufficiently waterlogged, I turned the shower off and went about my business. One roommate finally arrived home, but she is just as squeamish as I am. I showed her the result of the carnage and she had to turn away. When our other roommate, the calm environmental loving scientist came home, we assaulted her. The first roommate explained that she had periodically been checking to make sure the bug was still there and he had been twitching. Apparently he had a profound will to live. We dragged my other roommate into the bathroom and gasped to find the bug missing. This cannot be good news for future showers.
My scientific roommate explained that centipedes do not come up from the drain (as I previously thought) but fall into the tub and are unable to get out. The ones people see are the ones that have had the misfortune of falling into the tub... but there are ones people don't see because they RUN REALLY FAST. If that isn't the best news I've heard lately I don't know what is. Yikes!
I don't know why my new apartment is like the nature channel, but it did give me a good idea for a reality show. Instead of making people eat bugs like that (ewwwww, go ahead, take another good look at that picture and then tell me how much I would have to pay you to eat one of those), how about getting bug-phobic people to live in a bug infested apartment for one month. Can you envision the drama?
My nature-loving roommate reminded me that I am bigger and smarter than any bug. But maybe that's the problem isn't it? I mean if the bug had more intelligence and I encountered it as I did, maybe it would say, "Why hello Katie, I was just hanging out here in your bathtub. Sorry if I startled you. Oh were you thinking of taking a shower? Pardon me, let me just get right out of your way" and I would reply, "no please, after you" and there would be harmony throughout the animal kingdom.
Friday, May 13, 2005
So here's something weird: I forgot to set my alarm last night but I woke up right on time. What a difference it makes to have a regular sleep schedule and to stick to it. I may not want to do it every day, but I am gaining confidence in my inner clock.
Have you ever sat at a red light for so long that your mind starts to wander and you forget why you're there in the first place? That happens to me a lot on my new route to work. There are a lot of long lights. All of a sudden traffic will start moving again after being stopped since the dawn of time, and I'll think "Where am I? Where am I going? Why am I here?" Yes, the drive to work can be a great chance for some existential reflection.
And speaking of existential reflection, as I was driving, that Alanis Morissette song, "you oughta know" came on the radio. I started thinking about how great that song was when it first came out and how I recently read someplace that the song was written about Alanis' old boyfriend, Dave Coulier and that really just ruined it for me. I don't want to here Alanis singing about going down in a theater and scratching her nails down the back of the goofy guy who did Bullwinkle impressions on Full House. I wish she had never let out that piece of information. On the other hand, look at Carly Simon - she still hasn't told us who "You're So Vain" is about* and you know why? It's because we really don't want to picture Dave Coulier** when we're listening to an angry-girl-ballad about sex and intrigue and indiscretion.
*Spookily enough, I was engaged in this comparison between the two songs when "You're So Vain" came on the radio. As in - I was thinking about it before it came on. Is it possible that I made that happen?
**No offense is intended to Dave Coulier. I enjoyed many an episode of Full House during the 80's and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Have you ever sat at a red light for so long that your mind starts to wander and you forget why you're there in the first place? That happens to me a lot on my new route to work. There are a lot of long lights. All of a sudden traffic will start moving again after being stopped since the dawn of time, and I'll think "Where am I? Where am I going? Why am I here?" Yes, the drive to work can be a great chance for some existential reflection.
And speaking of existential reflection, as I was driving, that Alanis Morissette song, "you oughta know" came on the radio. I started thinking about how great that song was when it first came out and how I recently read someplace that the song was written about Alanis' old boyfriend, Dave Coulier and that really just ruined it for me. I don't want to here Alanis singing about going down in a theater and scratching her nails down the back of the goofy guy who did Bullwinkle impressions on Full House. I wish she had never let out that piece of information. On the other hand, look at Carly Simon - she still hasn't told us who "You're So Vain" is about* and you know why? It's because we really don't want to picture Dave Coulier** when we're listening to an angry-girl-ballad about sex and intrigue and indiscretion.
*Spookily enough, I was engaged in this comparison between the two songs when "You're So Vain" came on the radio. As in - I was thinking about it before it came on. Is it possible that I made that happen?
**No offense is intended to Dave Coulier. I enjoyed many an episode of Full House during the 80's and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Over the weekend an MIT student hosted a time traveler party. You can read about it here but the gist of it is that he put invitations in places that people from the future might find, including the coordinates for locating MIT, just in case. If the people in the future got the invites and were able to travel back in time, they were welcome as long as they could bring proof that they were from the future - in other words, a cure for AIDS, a nuclear cold fission reactor, or something similar.
I wanted to go to the party so bad because it was close by, and they were having lectures about physics (I know, that sounds like a heck of a party, doesn't it?) Unfortunately due to the huge amount of present time attendees, they weren't allowing anyone else from the present to go.
As it turned out, there was no one who admitted to being from the future at the party. But there's still time isn't there? Maybe more invitations can be planted in other places and people from the future will still have a chance to go. After all it is relative. Some people believe that no futuristic folks showed up because time-travel is not possible. I have to wonder, what if they simply didn't get the invitations? What if by the time time-travel is invented any form of invitation that was "sent" has long since ceased to exist? How would you go about sending a message to the future anyway?
My roommate's theory was that no one showed up because they couldn't prove they were from the future. She said, "if I was a regular citizen from the future, what are the chances I could get my hands on the cure for AIDS and bring it along to the party in a little glass vial?" Indeed. Another good point is, what if the people from the future knew about the party, and were able to travel back in time, and were able to prove it, but didn't want to change the future by changing the past? Hello?
This is all very complicated but one thing is for certain: MIT is so cool! Maybe someday I will travel back in time and go to school there.
I wanted to go to the party so bad because it was close by, and they were having lectures about physics (I know, that sounds like a heck of a party, doesn't it?) Unfortunately due to the huge amount of present time attendees, they weren't allowing anyone else from the present to go.
As it turned out, there was no one who admitted to being from the future at the party. But there's still time isn't there? Maybe more invitations can be planted in other places and people from the future will still have a chance to go. After all it is relative. Some people believe that no futuristic folks showed up because time-travel is not possible. I have to wonder, what if they simply didn't get the invitations? What if by the time time-travel is invented any form of invitation that was "sent" has long since ceased to exist? How would you go about sending a message to the future anyway?
My roommate's theory was that no one showed up because they couldn't prove they were from the future. She said, "if I was a regular citizen from the future, what are the chances I could get my hands on the cure for AIDS and bring it along to the party in a little glass vial?" Indeed. Another good point is, what if the people from the future knew about the party, and were able to travel back in time, and were able to prove it, but didn't want to change the future by changing the past? Hello?
This is all very complicated but one thing is for certain: MIT is so cool! Maybe someday I will travel back in time and go to school there.
Monday, May 09, 2005
I think of him at odd, unexpected moments. Reaching for a paper towel in the kitchen, turning the key in the lock as I'm leaving, drinking wine in a crowded room and suddenly feeling melancholy and alone. Honestly these are not the moments you might assume like eating at the salsa bar or driving by the museum every day or realizing I'm wearing his old sweatshirt. It's the day to day, while doing simple things, when suddenly it hits me in a flash and I feel like I want to cry. I've long since mourned the distant past and I'm o.k. with that. I'm o.k. with this.
But I miss the daily chats and the inside jokes and the silly things that no one else would understand. I didn't think I was the only one our friendship meant something to but the days pass and we don't speak and I'm not sure why. I hate how he's slipping away from me and I hate how I pick up the phone when I want to share something and it just rings and rings forever. Three years is a long time to be so insignificant. Mostly I hate how most of the time I am perfectly fine and barely give any of it a passing thought, like it doesn't matter and I am forgetting.
But I miss the daily chats and the inside jokes and the silly things that no one else would understand. I didn't think I was the only one our friendship meant something to but the days pass and we don't speak and I'm not sure why. I hate how he's slipping away from me and I hate how I pick up the phone when I want to share something and it just rings and rings forever. Three years is a long time to be so insignificant. Mostly I hate how most of the time I am perfectly fine and barely give any of it a passing thought, like it doesn't matter and I am forgetting.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
It seems I've been tagged! Thanks Cindy! O.K., I need to pick 5 items from the list (at the end of the post) and finish the sentence with what I would do in that scenario. I can't pick things I already am so I guess that rules out world-famous-blogger right?
If I could be a farmer... I would grow healthy nutritious food that was specially formulated with herbal supplements and vitamin goodness and would also taste delicious. My food would heal the sick and end world hunger.
If I could be a painter... I would fill rooms with my fabulous paintings. They would be full of color and people would be happy just looking at them. And all the animals and people I painted would be smiling.
If I could be an athlete... I would participate in every possible competition for every possible sport. I would swim, run, pole vault, and maybe even get a sneaker named after me. It would be purple.
If I could be a writer... I would write my thoughts and opinions on all possible subjects and people would buy my books just to see what I had to say because people will buy anything. (Chapter 1: People Will Buy Anything)
If I could be a llama rider... I would ride my llama all over town and save money and energy by not using my car. Also, I would take my llama to the dentist just like I remember seeing once on an episode of Sesame Street when a girl had a pet llama who she took to the dentist. They even rode the bus and everything. Because hey, oral hygiene is important. My llama's name would be Billy.
Now I get to tag three of you lucky readers and you get to pick 5 items from the list. I am tagging Pinky, Flavia, and Martziotta!
And here is The List:
If I could be a scientist…
If I could be a farmer…
If I could be a musician…
If I could be a doctor…
If I could be a painter…
If I could be a gardener…
If I could be a missionary…
If I could be a chef…
If I could be an architect…
If I could be a linguist…
If I could be a psychologist…
If I could be a librarian…
If I could be an athlete…
If I could be a lawyer…
If I could be an inn-keeper…
If I could be a professor…
If I could be a writer…
If I could be a llama-rider…
If I could be a bonnie pirate…
If I could be an astronaut…
If I could be a world famous blogger…
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world…
If I could be married to any current famous political figure…
If I could be a farmer... I would grow healthy nutritious food that was specially formulated with herbal supplements and vitamin goodness and would also taste delicious. My food would heal the sick and end world hunger.
If I could be a painter... I would fill rooms with my fabulous paintings. They would be full of color and people would be happy just looking at them. And all the animals and people I painted would be smiling.
If I could be an athlete... I would participate in every possible competition for every possible sport. I would swim, run, pole vault, and maybe even get a sneaker named after me. It would be purple.
If I could be a writer... I would write my thoughts and opinions on all possible subjects and people would buy my books just to see what I had to say because people will buy anything. (Chapter 1: People Will Buy Anything)
If I could be a llama rider... I would ride my llama all over town and save money and energy by not using my car. Also, I would take my llama to the dentist just like I remember seeing once on an episode of Sesame Street when a girl had a pet llama who she took to the dentist. They even rode the bus and everything. Because hey, oral hygiene is important. My llama's name would be Billy.
Now I get to tag three of you lucky readers and you get to pick 5 items from the list. I am tagging Pinky, Flavia, and Martziotta!
And here is The List:
If I could be a scientist…
If I could be a farmer…
If I could be a musician…
If I could be a doctor…
If I could be a painter…
If I could be a gardener…
If I could be a missionary…
If I could be a chef…
If I could be an architect…
If I could be a linguist…
If I could be a psychologist…
If I could be a librarian…
If I could be an athlete…
If I could be a lawyer…
If I could be an inn-keeper…
If I could be a professor…
If I could be a writer…
If I could be a llama-rider…
If I could be a bonnie pirate…
If I could be an astronaut…
If I could be a world famous blogger…
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world…
If I could be married to any current famous political figure…
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Want to hear something scary? O.K., it's not spider-in-the-bedroom scary, but it's mildly disturbing anyway. When I got home yesterday there was a piece of mail for me on the table. It was hand-addressed to my last apartment with a post office sticker on it indicating my new address. The return address was simply a first initial, last name, and the city and state.
I opened the envelope to find one of my old pay stubs! Although I usually hang onto them, I must have thrown one away during my move and the trash bag broke or desperate people dug through it for recyclables (it happened all the time in that neighborhood) and the next thing you know, papers were probably blowing down the street all willy nilly.
This is upsetting because that pay stub (although not a "live" check) has all kinds of information on it: my salary, my place of employment, my social security number... and if that got out into the world somehow, what else is blowing around in the back alleys of my old neighborhood? Grocery lists? Receipts? Journal entries? Yikes. What an icky feeling to think of my personal life being spewed onto the streets like so much trash.
The benevolent sender did not include a note, but I am grateful that they took the time to return my pay stub. I joked to my mom that first they probably copied down all of my information. Then I got serious and asked her, "Mom, is someone going to steal my identity?" And with the sad state of my financial situation in mind, my mother replied "well good luck to them if they do!"
I opened the envelope to find one of my old pay stubs! Although I usually hang onto them, I must have thrown one away during my move and the trash bag broke or desperate people dug through it for recyclables (it happened all the time in that neighborhood) and the next thing you know, papers were probably blowing down the street all willy nilly.
This is upsetting because that pay stub (although not a "live" check) has all kinds of information on it: my salary, my place of employment, my social security number... and if that got out into the world somehow, what else is blowing around in the back alleys of my old neighborhood? Grocery lists? Receipts? Journal entries? Yikes. What an icky feeling to think of my personal life being spewed onto the streets like so much trash.
The benevolent sender did not include a note, but I am grateful that they took the time to return my pay stub. I joked to my mom that first they probably copied down all of my information. Then I got serious and asked her, "Mom, is someone going to steal my identity?" And with the sad state of my financial situation in mind, my mother replied "well good luck to them if they do!"
