I am avoiding writing by writing. I have two sketches to write for class, which is tomorrow at 1:30 p.m. I am not really much further behind than normal, because I am a professional procrastinator. My usual formula involves staying up late the night before, occasionally even taking time to go out for a drink or two, and finishing the sketches in the morning.
Last term, my class was at 10 a.m. on Saturday mornings and this was how I operated. This term, the class is later in the weekend AND the day. So that means...I push back doing the work even more. It actually is still beneficial that the class is later in the day. The extra day, however, doesn't help. I don't know how that works mathematically.
Right now, I have writer's block. Or, do I? Most of the week, I think of ideas, and throw most of them out before they even reach paper. 9 times out of 10, I settle on an idea the night before and begin writing. I'm not sure if I actually get writer's block, or if I just need the pressure. I always waited until the last minute for assignments in school and I did pretty well.
I should be a better role model, considering the news I got on Friday at work. I was actually kind of waiting to hear that I got fired. A few unrelated clues led me to believe I was being "restructured" as I was in October, more thoroughly. Instead, I found out that I am being restructured, but it involves adding something to my job responsibilities in which I'm actually interested.
As of Monday, I will be helping students who need writing support. The details don't exist yet; we will have to figure out the logistics starting Monday. I won't be able to give the students any tips on getting work done on time. I probably will, I'll just be giving them advice I don't follow. I am happy that the students are going to have more support for writing. I am thrilled to be doing this, as far as it will help my career and filling out my resume.
After getting a little rusty, I will be refreshing all of my writing skills while helping these students. Hopefully, it will also help me write something of value here and give me the ability to bust out a sketch without trying.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Rubber band man
I think I have finally kicked the nail biting habit, or at least I hope I have. Since I was a small child, probably 3 years old, I have bitten my nails. When I was much younger, I always bit them way to low, till they were freakishly short and I bled. Between that and constant hangnails, I always had bandages on my fingers in school.
As I have gotten older, I have controlled this terrible habit a bit. In most cases, when I have bitten my nails in the past few years, I at least do it neatly and cleanly, and with no bleeding. The habit has matured as I hopefully have. It's still a bad habit, and I need to stop doing it. In the past year, I usually do all right until I get stressed and bite them all off. In most cases, this has been driving around Allston and Brighton for a long time, trying to find a parking spot.
I finally found a method of controlling the urge to bite one's nails that involves wearing rubber bands on the wrist. This suits me, since at work I end up putting rubber bands around my wrists from file folders and mail. Contrary to what people have assumed when I begin to explain the abundance of bands I move from hand to hand, I do not snap myself to inflict pain as a punishment for the thought. At that rate, I might as well sniff ammonia too. When I want to bite my nails, I switch the rubber bands from one wrist to the other. The moment passes, and I haven't bitten my nails, and I am conscious of how often I want to do it, and how stupid it is. It also gives my hands something to do, which is very important.
Of course, I have invented fake reasons for why I'm wearing them. I moved locations at work recently and when a former office mate asked what they were for I told her "I wear one for each of you that I miss." There were 6 people in my old office. I was wearing 2 bands. She sulked back to her cubicle.
I haven't bitten my nails in 12 days now. I think it takes 21 days to start or break a habit. I think my new habit is collecting rubber bands, because I'm up to five. Perhaps my next project will be a rubber band ball to keep from biting my nails and wearing too many bands. Either way, after I am sure I have moved on, I'm gettin' m'nails did.
As I have gotten older, I have controlled this terrible habit a bit. In most cases, when I have bitten my nails in the past few years, I at least do it neatly and cleanly, and with no bleeding. The habit has matured as I hopefully have. It's still a bad habit, and I need to stop doing it. In the past year, I usually do all right until I get stressed and bite them all off. In most cases, this has been driving around Allston and Brighton for a long time, trying to find a parking spot.
I finally found a method of controlling the urge to bite one's nails that involves wearing rubber bands on the wrist. This suits me, since at work I end up putting rubber bands around my wrists from file folders and mail. Contrary to what people have assumed when I begin to explain the abundance of bands I move from hand to hand, I do not snap myself to inflict pain as a punishment for the thought. At that rate, I might as well sniff ammonia too. When I want to bite my nails, I switch the rubber bands from one wrist to the other. The moment passes, and I haven't bitten my nails, and I am conscious of how often I want to do it, and how stupid it is. It also gives my hands something to do, which is very important.
Of course, I have invented fake reasons for why I'm wearing them. I moved locations at work recently and when a former office mate asked what they were for I told her "I wear one for each of you that I miss." There were 6 people in my old office. I was wearing 2 bands. She sulked back to her cubicle.
I haven't bitten my nails in 12 days now. I think it takes 21 days to start or break a habit. I think my new habit is collecting rubber bands, because I'm up to five. Perhaps my next project will be a rubber band ball to keep from biting my nails and wearing too many bands. Either way, after I am sure I have moved on, I'm gettin' m'nails did.
Hot Doctors: An Unfortunate Unreality
Since it has always been difficult for me to draw a line between reality and fantasy, I always had this completely incorrect notion that being a doctor came hand-in-hand with being handsome. I don't think I am the only one. A smart, handsome doctor is to a late twenty-something as a Disney prince is to a seven year old.
Imagine my surprise when a while back I asked a friend in the medical profession if she had any cute doctor friends and she said no. Apparently, the hot doctor is mostly a myth, and when he does come around, he has a huge ego, and therefore by the law of personality trumps face, he gets uglier every second you get to know him. My hopes of meeting/dating/marrying a hot doctor were dashed.
I wondered what caused me to believe doctors were handsome and nice and amazing and wonderful in the first place? I realized it could all be explained by my Gradual Change Equals Normal theorem.
Gradual Change Equals Normal (GCEN) is something I came up with back when I first got glasses. Like many sixth graders, I had no idea I needed them and was content to squint at the chalkboard (remember those?) confusing 5s for 6s for the rest of my life. It wasn't until I put my brand new spectacles on for the first time when I realized what I had been missing out on. I could see so many details! Leaves on trees. The menu at McDonald's. The word "STOP" on the stop sign. Because my vision had been gradually deteriorating for the previous 11 years, I had no idea it wasn't normal to struggle to recognize your friends' faces in the hallways.
In order to apply the GCEN theorem to my inaccurate belief that all doctors are hot, I have to blame TV. Right after I graduated from Disney channel movies,I hopped onto the couch in front of shows like E.R. I think we can all agree that the first few seasons of E.R. were the best. Also, if you think back, the ratio of good-looking to not-so-good-looking was almost normal. Sure you had the dreamy pediatrician and the cute intern, but then there was the bald guy with glasses and the crippled Attending.
As the show continued and the cast started changing, the doctors and nurses got better and better looking, and younger and younger. The change was so gradual, I bet most viewers didn't notice (myself included) which led to us believing that it was still just as realistic as it started out, and that all doctors and nurses are above average in their physical appearances.
Right around the time E.R. started tanking, everyone turned to Grey's Anatomy to get their medical TV drama fix. Grey's didn't even try to include ugly people in their cast (although now there is a token geek resident who appears every once in a while to have a panic attack about something or another but no one really cares). In fact, they use cute nicknames (McDreamy and McSteamy) to pretend as though it was a realistic and funny coincidence that their top notch neuro- and plastic surgeons were so good looking. By this point, the viewers didn't care or even think twice about it. We had already been brainwashed by the Gradual Change in E.R.; we thought that if Emergency Room doctors could look like that show, this MUST be what surgeons and future surgeons looked like.
As much as I am always thrilled to live in a fantasy world, I was happy when Mercy came along. Watching Mercy is like putting on your glasses for the first time- you realize nothing you saw before was even remotely accurate. But you don't mind, because in some ways, it's better.
This is how I segue into my review of the new TV show on NBC- Mercy. If Grey's is the borderline blindness of 6th grade, Mercy is my first time putting on glasses. At first I was annoyed that there was a new show about people in the medical profession. I thought it was a cop-out that the focus was on nurses to make it seem like it would be a different show than the other hundreds that are out there. Come on. Can we be any less creative?
But now that I have started watching it, I've jumped on the Mercy bandwagon. It's not all hot nurses and doctors; it's a show of average-in-a-good-way people. They didn't have to add a token nerd in, because everyone on the show has a little bit of a token nerd in them. It reminds me of how E.R. used to be, before it got tainted by the Young and the Beautiful. My only hope for this show is that it doesn't go down the path of Grey's, what with its ghosts and 'dark twisty moments' and missing wives.
You might have thought this post was some sort of a rant about how TV has ruined my life by making me think I'd marry a neurosurgeon that everyone called McDreamy, but it's actually to get you to watch Mercy. It's good, I promise. And if you have watched it and you don't like it, well then we are not friends. So go away.
Imagine my surprise when a while back I asked a friend in the medical profession if she had any cute doctor friends and she said no. Apparently, the hot doctor is mostly a myth, and when he does come around, he has a huge ego, and therefore by the law of personality trumps face, he gets uglier every second you get to know him. My hopes of meeting/dating/marrying a hot doctor were dashed.
I wondered what caused me to believe doctors were handsome and nice and amazing and wonderful in the first place? I realized it could all be explained by my Gradual Change Equals Normal theorem.
Gradual Change Equals Normal (GCEN) is something I came up with back when I first got glasses. Like many sixth graders, I had no idea I needed them and was content to squint at the chalkboard (remember those?) confusing 5s for 6s for the rest of my life. It wasn't until I put my brand new spectacles on for the first time when I realized what I had been missing out on. I could see so many details! Leaves on trees. The menu at McDonald's. The word "STOP" on the stop sign. Because my vision had been gradually deteriorating for the previous 11 years, I had no idea it wasn't normal to struggle to recognize your friends' faces in the hallways.
In order to apply the GCEN theorem to my inaccurate belief that all doctors are hot, I have to blame TV. Right after I graduated from Disney channel movies,I hopped onto the couch in front of shows like E.R. I think we can all agree that the first few seasons of E.R. were the best. Also, if you think back, the ratio of good-looking to not-so-good-looking was almost normal. Sure you had the dreamy pediatrician and the cute intern, but then there was the bald guy with glasses and the crippled Attending.
As the show continued and the cast started changing, the doctors and nurses got better and better looking, and younger and younger. The change was so gradual, I bet most viewers didn't notice (myself included) which led to us believing that it was still just as realistic as it started out, and that all doctors and nurses are above average in their physical appearances.
Right around the time E.R. started tanking, everyone turned to Grey's Anatomy to get their medical TV drama fix. Grey's didn't even try to include ugly people in their cast (although now there is a token geek resident who appears every once in a while to have a panic attack about something or another but no one really cares). In fact, they use cute nicknames (McDreamy and McSteamy) to pretend as though it was a realistic and funny coincidence that their top notch neuro- and plastic surgeons were so good looking. By this point, the viewers didn't care or even think twice about it. We had already been brainwashed by the Gradual Change in E.R.; we thought that if Emergency Room doctors could look like that show, this MUST be what surgeons and future surgeons looked like.
As much as I am always thrilled to live in a fantasy world, I was happy when Mercy came along. Watching Mercy is like putting on your glasses for the first time- you realize nothing you saw before was even remotely accurate. But you don't mind, because in some ways, it's better.
This is how I segue into my review of the new TV show on NBC- Mercy. If Grey's is the borderline blindness of 6th grade, Mercy is my first time putting on glasses. At first I was annoyed that there was a new show about people in the medical profession. I thought it was a cop-out that the focus was on nurses to make it seem like it would be a different show than the other hundreds that are out there. Come on. Can we be any less creative?
But now that I have started watching it, I've jumped on the Mercy bandwagon. It's not all hot nurses and doctors; it's a show of average-in-a-good-way people. They didn't have to add a token nerd in, because everyone on the show has a little bit of a token nerd in them. It reminds me of how E.R. used to be, before it got tainted by the Young and the Beautiful. My only hope for this show is that it doesn't go down the path of Grey's, what with its ghosts and 'dark twisty moments' and missing wives.
You might have thought this post was some sort of a rant about how TV has ruined my life by making me think I'd marry a neurosurgeon that everyone called McDreamy, but it's actually to get you to watch Mercy. It's good, I promise. And if you have watched it and you don't like it, well then we are not friends. So go away.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Since I have no money right now, because I am at that point that happens every few months where all of my bills are due before I get my paycheck, and I may finally find out how my overdraft protection works, but I still need to eat, I did some inventing in the kitchen tonight.
I knew that I had the following: turkey cutlets, various soups, frozen vegetables, taco seasoning. More specifically, I reasoned out that I have cheddar cheese soup (which I bought on sale for a dollar. Holler), frozen peppers (also a dollar. Holler back). What would I make of this? Dinner, of course. It did require buying a bag of chips, though, because I could only think of fashioning this into some sort of dip. I took a trip to CVS and hoped that Halloween candy would be on sale. It was, but more the Mike and Ike's and not so much the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups I wanted. Peanut butter was on sale for 3 for $5 which was a steal! I am officially old or poor, because I get excited about sales and love telling everyone about them. At that price, I can eat one jar tonight which is what I always have to fight the urge to do.
While cooking I took the time to take a picture only because it made me think "We are eating peppers and chips!"
This led to my roommates and I saying "We are eating peppers and chips!" over and over for the next five minutes.
Along the way I decided that I was going to throw in some refried beans, for why nots. Actually what I think I said was "Hey, refried beans, you're gonna join the party."
Recipe:
1 turkey cutlet, cut into small pieces
1 can of Cheddar Cheese soup
1 can refried beans
1 cup (I am lying I don't measure things that aren't premeasured) of frozen pepper strips
I think that was it.
Directions:
Thaw the peppers in the microwave. Cook the turkey cutlet in a bit of olive oil in a saucepan on medium high heat. Once the turkey is cooked on both sides, add the vegetables to cook them a bit. Next, add the cheddar cheese. Add the refried beans and mix them all together. Done and done.
Serve:
I threw the mess that looked like dog food in a bowl, topped it with some plain yogurt (I stole it from my roommate--if you don't have one of these, you will have to buy more food). I drizzled on some enchilada sauce and edged the bowl with baked scoops.
I will get at least one more meal out of this. I am kind of a pig, you could get two. If you are one of those people who has no roommates, you can eat it all right out of the saucepan in one night. No one has to know.
I knew that I had the following: turkey cutlets, various soups, frozen vegetables, taco seasoning. More specifically, I reasoned out that I have cheddar cheese soup (which I bought on sale for a dollar. Holler), frozen peppers (also a dollar. Holler back). What would I make of this? Dinner, of course. It did require buying a bag of chips, though, because I could only think of fashioning this into some sort of dip. I took a trip to CVS and hoped that Halloween candy would be on sale. It was, but more the Mike and Ike's and not so much the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups I wanted. Peanut butter was on sale for 3 for $5 which was a steal! I am officially old or poor, because I get excited about sales and love telling everyone about them. At that price, I can eat one jar tonight which is what I always have to fight the urge to do.
While cooking I took the time to take a picture only because it made me think "We are eating peppers and chips!"
This led to my roommates and I saying "We are eating peppers and chips!" over and over for the next five minutes.
Along the way I decided that I was going to throw in some refried beans, for why nots. Actually what I think I said was "Hey, refried beans, you're gonna join the party."
Recipe:
1 turkey cutlet, cut into small pieces
1 can of Cheddar Cheese soup
1 can refried beans
1 cup (I am lying I don't measure things that aren't premeasured) of frozen pepper strips
I think that was it.
Directions:
Thaw the peppers in the microwave. Cook the turkey cutlet in a bit of olive oil in a saucepan on medium high heat. Once the turkey is cooked on both sides, add the vegetables to cook them a bit. Next, add the cheddar cheese. Add the refried beans and mix them all together. Done and done.
Serve:
I threw the mess that looked like dog food in a bowl, topped it with some plain yogurt (I stole it from my roommate--if you don't have one of these, you will have to buy more food). I drizzled on some enchilada sauce and edged the bowl with baked scoops.
I will get at least one more meal out of this. I am kind of a pig, you could get two. If you are one of those people who has no roommates, you can eat it all right out of the saucepan in one night. No one has to know.
Secrets, secrets, are no fun. Secrets, secrets, hurt someone
Lately, I've taken to checking out job listings on craigslist. The most fun ones to read are the ads for reality TV casting calls. One was for a spot on a hunter/gatherer tribe on an island where you can participate in polyamorous relationships and experience life as humans did back in the day when everything was wild and free. I'd post details here, but I'd like to keep this blog family friendly.
Then I found this one:
“Secrets," the CW's new documentary series, will follow the lives of professional woman ages 22-27 who cannot keep their rage under control.
For more information or to APPLY, check out www.cwsecrets.com.
I checked out the website and it is legit. Unfortunately, I don't actually qualify because I doubt my days spent wearing yesterday's pajamas scouring the internet for new and interesting craigslist posts qualifies as living a secret/double life. You all know that is what I am doing- it's no secret. I did have to think twice about the rage, though. I can call upon rage like it's my superpower. Things I have forgotten about for years, months, weeks, can quickly and easily come to the surface at a moment's notice.
One thing you shouldn't mention to me if you don't want to witness me fly off the handle is Comcast. Don't ask me the best way to return a cable box. I won't tell you how I was told 7 pieces of misinformation and sent through 5 different website links and talked to 8 different people and one online robot, only to find out that to return a piece of equipment would involve driving to Roxbury between the hours of noon and never on a weekday. Since you didn't ask, I wouldn't have to explain how ridiculous it is that if you cancel your Comcast service for no good reason, you can have someone stop by to pick it up (for free), ship it back to your payment center (for free), or drop it off at a local payment center (for free). However, if you have moved out of state last minute to an area where Comcast does not serve, your only option is to return it to your old location's payment center which is two hours away and keeps inconvenient hours. Fortunately, if you avoid mentioning Comcast to me, you will also avoid hearing about how much they suck, how much I hate them, and how even if I move back to an area that ONLY has Comcast as a cable option, I will personally install Dish Network on my apartment's rooftop or sign up for netflix or buy a new computer that would allow me to watch Hulu, instead of dealing with them again. F-ing Comcast.
Now that that hasn't been said, I am wondering if I should apply for that TV show.... if that happens, please be sure to watch me on the CW, Tuesdays, 10/9 Central, 2011.
Then I found this one:
“Secrets," the CW's new documentary series, will follow the lives of professional woman ages 22-27 who cannot keep their rage under control.
For more information or to APPLY, check out www.cwsecrets.com.
I checked out the website and it is legit. Unfortunately, I don't actually qualify because I doubt my days spent wearing yesterday's pajamas scouring the internet for new and interesting craigslist posts qualifies as living a secret/double life. You all know that is what I am doing- it's no secret. I did have to think twice about the rage, though. I can call upon rage like it's my superpower. Things I have forgotten about for years, months, weeks, can quickly and easily come to the surface at a moment's notice.
One thing you shouldn't mention to me if you don't want to witness me fly off the handle is Comcast. Don't ask me the best way to return a cable box. I won't tell you how I was told 7 pieces of misinformation and sent through 5 different website links and talked to 8 different people and one online robot, only to find out that to return a piece of equipment would involve driving to Roxbury between the hours of noon and never on a weekday. Since you didn't ask, I wouldn't have to explain how ridiculous it is that if you cancel your Comcast service for no good reason, you can have someone stop by to pick it up (for free), ship it back to your payment center (for free), or drop it off at a local payment center (for free). However, if you have moved out of state last minute to an area where Comcast does not serve, your only option is to return it to your old location's payment center which is two hours away and keeps inconvenient hours. Fortunately, if you avoid mentioning Comcast to me, you will also avoid hearing about how much they suck, how much I hate them, and how even if I move back to an area that ONLY has Comcast as a cable option, I will personally install Dish Network on my apartment's rooftop or sign up for netflix or buy a new computer that would allow me to watch Hulu, instead of dealing with them again. F-ing Comcast.
Now that that hasn't been said, I am wondering if I should apply for that TV show.... if that happens, please be sure to watch me on the CW, Tuesdays, 10/9 Central, 2011.
30 Gremlins in 30 days
I find myself pondering the situation where I started a post before midnight and posted it after midnight, as was the case with my last entry. It's similar to the case of the Mogwai and Gremlin. One wonders, as a character did in the sequel, if they start eating before midnight, but get a piece of food stuck in their teeth, will the friendly, furry, little dinkers turn into their scaly, mischievous, though often entertaining alter egos?
Do I have to write a post on every day? Or will 30 posts in 30 days fulfill the requirement? Here is my answer, see if you can follow the logic. You could turn one mogwai into a gremlin every day for 30 days. Or, you could turn 30 mogwais into 3o gremlins overnight. Either way, you have 30 gremlins to deal with. I know that one gremlin at a time is much easier to deal with than dozens upon dozens. Luckily, in this situation, it just means you'll have to read more at once and you probably won't end up going through your window when they rewire your chairlift.
Do I have to write a post on every day? Or will 30 posts in 30 days fulfill the requirement? Here is my answer, see if you can follow the logic. You could turn one mogwai into a gremlin every day for 30 days. Or, you could turn 30 mogwais into 3o gremlins overnight. Either way, you have 30 gremlins to deal with. I know that one gremlin at a time is much easier to deal with than dozens upon dozens. Luckily, in this situation, it just means you'll have to read more at once and you probably won't end up going through your window when they rewire your chairlift.
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