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12/29/2007
Aquatic Thai
Had a hot date tonight. DJ made me promise it was with Matt. Apparently if it wasn't with Matt, then the universe would fall to pieces and we'd all be utterly lost. So I suppose that was DJ's way of telling me I'm the key to the universe. Of course, if he continues to keep the hours he's keeping it won't be long before he falls to pieces himself.
Anyway. Hot date.
Thai food was on the list, but because it was cold and rainy outside and because both of us (Matt WAS my hot date, by the way, in case there was any confusion) felt like staying in. So we ordered take-out. We shared an appetizer that consisted of satay, eggroll-type things, cucumber salad (it was really yummy)I had fried tofu and green veggies (cabbage, bok choy and broccoli...yum!) smothered in a peanut curry sauce. Matt had Masaman curry with some rice. We split a bottle of nice wine and talked over dinner.
After dinner we cleaned up. We put all the containers into a plastic bag and tied it off. The rest of clean-up consisted of clearing away the plates. Yes. I know it was take-out and you can generally just eat out of the containers they come in, but two plates and some cutlery really is a far cry from cleaning the kitchen after I've cooked in it.
Case and point: last night's dinner.
But that's another story entirely.
The point is that Matt was laughing at me because I had to take the time to put the dishes in the dishwasher. He had rinsed them and left them on the counter, but I can't abide a messy kitchen at the apartment. It bothers me. Same with stuff being left out on coffee tables, dining tables, chairs, etc. So I put things in the dishwasher.
We then settled in on the sofa to watch The Life Aquatic, which I had never seen until tonight. I thought it to be quirky, if not a little sad. Luckily it was long enough that the wine had enough time to filter through my system. Well, that and I had a big glass of water. And some chocolate. Let's not forget the chocolate. Mmm...chocolate.
So yeah! That's my story for tonight in short.
Later Days,
Arty
00:00 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this
12/22/2007
Pinch This
Pinched from Nossie's blog, which was, in turn, pinched from Lily's blog. I have no idea who Lily pinched it from, but here it is anyway. I think in order to make it fresh, I'll include Nossie's answers with my own following.
1. Do you like cheese?
Only cheddar, but I eat too much of that.
- Yes. I like most cheeses, but I agree with whatever French king is it that said Brie is the king of cheeses.
2. Have you ever smoked heroin?
No, should I have done?
- I wasn't aware you COULD smoke heroin, but my answer is a solid 'no.'
3. Do you own a gun?
No, and I wouldn't want one.
- See Nossie's answer. It perfectly mimics my own.
4. Your favorite song?
Eh? I'm supposed to have a favorite song?
- Um...*thinks*...Great Is Thy Faithfulness ranked way up there. But then again, so do other hymns and countless other songs.
5. Do you get nervous about Dr. appointments?
No. I avoid them successfully, so there are no doctor appointments.
- Nope.
6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Yuck...MacDonald's isn't a healthy place to get your food.
- Personally, I prefer 'hot dogs' made out of tofu. Is anyone surprised? I think not.
7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
Do carols count? I have a strange liking for "Hark the herald angels sing" and "In the bleak mid winter".
- In the Bleak Mid-Winter. Hands down.
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Nothing.
- Tea. Or milk if the mood so strikes me.
9. Can you do push ups?
What?
- Yes.
10. Is your bathroom clean?
It's clean enough.
- Pretty good considering that 7 people use it on a daily basis.
11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
I had a necklace which I used to love, and then I lost it.
- My engagement ring. Again, hands down.
12. Favorite Hobby?
Hobby?
- Writing. Definitely writing.
13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?
I don't have one/if I do, I have absolutely no clue about what it is.
- My sultry voice...*can't keep a straight face*
14. Do you have A.D.D.?
No.
- Definitely not. I was given attention as a child by my parents.
15. Have you ever stolen anything?
No.
- Yes, but in retrospect I doubt a plastic grape from a fruitbowl display, taken when I was all of 6, counts.
16. Middle Name?
Seeing as people here don't even know my first name, I'll substitute that instead. I'm Rachel.
- Being that my first name is Greek, it should come as no surprise that my middle name matches. It's Fortulla.
17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment.
-I'm a little grumpier than normal today.
-Why don't I have three thoughts?
-Is it cheating to reread and change your answers?
1) I should really blog about Brukner.
2) I should really kick ass at the video games I'm about to play.
3) I wish Matt didn't have to go back to England. He's my home and I'm kind of lost without him.
18. Name the last 3 things you have bought?
Christmas presents, christmas presents, and more christmas presents. It's that time of year.
- Christmas presents times three. I'd tell you, really, but Matt reads my blog and I bought things for him.
19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink?
Orange juice, water, and that's about all
- Water
- Juice
- Tea
20. Your fears?
Too many—
-big cities, especially London—too many people and I'd rather not be stabbed or shot, thank you very much.
-groups of rowdy yobs
-violence. I really don't like this.
1) I fear nothing except God.
21. Current hate?
-Family. Some are pains and others are prats.
-Actually, I don't really hate anything.
1) Cauliflower is always a constant current hate.
2) Mrs. Sullivan.
3) How Mrs. Sullivan makes me feel like crying all the time.
22. Favorite place to be?
Alone.
- With Matt. When I lack him, my family. I like people.
23. How did you bring in the New Year?
Resting.
- Wilson and Lena's house with fireworks in the street! Woo!
24. Where would you like to go?
Scotland
- Spain. There's a list of other places, but for the sake of time, I'm not listing them all.
25 Name three people who will complete this and return.
Why should they complete this?
- I have no possible idea.
26. Do you own slippers?
Yes. And I rarely wear them.
- No, but I have socks.
27. What color shirt are you wearing?
It's a dark pink tee shirt with a lighter pink hoody on top. They clash.
- I have a pink tank top on with a black sweater over that.
28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
Satin sheets? Ours are cotton.
- If I ever sleep in satin sheets I'll tell you, but it sounds pretty nasty. Cotton is the way to go.
29. Can you whistle?
Yes, and not too badly.
- Only just.
30. Favorite color?
Sandy brown.
- Green.
31. Would you be a pirate?
Only if I get a parrot.
- Heck yes! I'd be the greatest most bad-ass pirate alive.
33. Favorite girl's name?
Rosie or Rebbecca or Kezia (yes, I once heard of someone called this and I've thought it brilliant ever since)
- Madeleine, Kathrynn (Kate), Samantha, or other such 'old fashioned' names. Funnily enough, I know someone whose name is Kezia.
34. Favorite boy's name?
Richard or Samuel or Enoch
- Matthew, Daniel, James and again, funnily enough my father-in-law-to-be is Richard, my great uncle is Samuel and my grandfather was Enoch.
35. What's in your pocket right now?
Nothing.
- Nada.
36. Last thing that made you laugh?
My grumpy, glum responses to this quiz. It's quite funny really. I've since changed some of them, thereby depriving you of the chance to laugh at them.
- Jeff sticking tape on my back while I was wrapping presents.
37. Best bed sheets as a child?
I have no clue what that question means.
- Little Mermaid flannel. Oh yeah.
38. Worst injury you've ever had?
No injuries to speak of. This is unfair. Oh, once I almost fainted. Does that count? And I fell on my head once, too. Then there's the time when I fell on my arm, and almost broke it...but not quite. It hurt for a week, though. And I gashed my knee open on a fence. I think I can still pick out the scar from that.
- I had just learned how to ride a bike. There was a big hill, with big trees with a big accident. My tire hit the sidewalk where the tree root had made it stick up, I fell over and because it was a hill, I slid down and had a huge scrape along my side from my knee to my ribs. I had to bathe in hydrogen peroxide to clean that wound. It was bad. Really bad.
39. Do you love where you live?
No. No. And no. I don't mind it, as it's rather nice; but I don't love it and if I had lots of money and could choose somewhere it wouldn't be here. I want to live in Scotland...but they keep sheep there, so maybe the English countryside would be better. I like cows better than sheep.
- Absolutely! No thought necessary! The city majorly rocks.
40. How many TVs do you have in your house?
Why did you ask? None at all. I'm deprived.
- Three. No, five.
41. Who is your loudest Friend?
I don't like loud noisy life-and-soul-of-the-party type people.
- Jeff.
42. Who is your most silent friend?
If people are silent, I never talk to them.
- My grandmother.
43. Does anyone have a crush on you?
I don't think so and I doubt it. And if they did, would I know? I don't think so.
- Don't tell anyone, but I think Matt might like me.
44. Do you wish on shooting stars?
No.
- No, I usually point at them, remark at how pretty they are and wait for the others. I then wake up the next morning hating life because I was out with my brothers in the hills near Grizzly Peak at the observatory, stretched out on the ground with blankets wrapped tightly around me and laughing at the little old ladies who are out with us drinking six bottles of wine between the five of them.
45. What is your favorite candy?
Milk chocolate. Milk chocolate. CHOCOLATE. CHOCOLATE. Chocolate...
- Peppermints. Hard peppermints.
46. Favorite Sports Team?
The football teams here are rubbish. One actually got chucked out of the Premier league, which proves my point.
- Um...San Jose Sharks. Oh yeah.
47. What do you want played at your funeral?
I shan't tell you what, but last year I actually wrote a plan for my funeral. I know it's a pretty morose thing to do, but it kept me happy. My ideas have since changed; I don't know what they are now.
- It's a bit early, isn't it?
48. Goals you would like to achieve this year?
Ideally I'd like to not eat too much chocolate over Christmas and not say that my uncle's irresponsible at the family Christmas get together. Reasons should be obvious.
- Marriage. Half of my student loans paid off would be nice too.
49. What was your favorite toy as a child?
A big (well, I thought it big) medium-brown cuddly dog, named Timmy after the dog in the Famous Five books.
- Snuffleet. Don't ask. It's too painful.
50. Do you have a favorite flower?
Never really thought about it, but I like white roses.
- Calla lilies. Or sunflowers. I love both equally.
And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go kick ass in a game and show the boys how men are supposed to play.
Later Days,
Arty
18:31 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (2) | Email this
12/20/2007
And I Quote...
Evening, loves! Yes, 'tis I, Artemis. You all know you love me. Well, it's been a few days since my kingdom of blogdom has received any news and I have a spare moment right now.
As you can probably guess, I've been a busy little beaver. A very cute, busy little beaver. The new job is keeping me busy, which is a good thing because there's nothing I hate more than being at work and having nothing to do. It's a major drag when boredom sets in at the office. I think it's somehow worse because I feel like I should be doing something when there's nothing to do. At least at home you have books and people to do nothing with, so the time passes much more enjoyably.
I'm into the full swing of things at the office now. Granted, there's an on-site review the end of January that we have to gear up for, but the everyday (some would say mundane) things are well under control. Now, you have to understand that when I say 'well under control' I really mean the action of doing what needs to be done is done fluidly. There is not, however, just a normal day at the office.
For those who don't know what I do or where I do it, I'm an executive director of a government agency that controls immigration...
Okay, so that isn't what I do, but it sounds impressive, no?
Seriously, though, what I do is far more worthy of my time than stopping people who want a better life and want it here in my country. I work for a non-profit school site that serves special needs kids from various districts around the Bay Area. The people I work with are THE most dedicated and THE most loving people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing (apart from my family, of course). It's hard work. Tremendously hard work that we all do, but it makes the burden much lighter because we all know we're all in it together to serve the greater good. To serve the kids that everyone else would leave behind. To stand as one and say, it's not okay to forget about the poor, the needy or the widowed in life just because it's the 'cool' thing to do.
I work with Pat. She and I run the business end of things for the school. I interact with the teachers on a daily basis as well as some of the students, but the core of my work is related to running the school as if it were a business. Which it really is, I suppose. We've got bills and expenses and compensation just like every other business out there. The business I help run is just more fun.
Suffice it to say that I work heavily with numbers, which is odd since I hold a degree that says I'm better with words. Still, I'm no stranger to numbers. I love the things to death. There's a calmness and sense of order about them that you can't find with words.
Today has been kind of a rough day. I was up most of the night reading and being uncomfortable because I made the mistake of eating roasted peppers and onions past a certain time. My body rebelled against me. The vegetables were insanely yummy, but my misery last night wasn't worth it. I love food, but there's a limit to how much I love it. Unlike Matt. There's no limit as to how much I love him. And he knows that too. The lucky dog.
So, this morning after getting up late still wishing I was in the world of blissful unconsciousness, I wandered into the kitchen to behold my youngest brother, Jeremy, feasting on breakfast. Now, I wasn't much in the mood for eating this morning after the night I had. I'm only now, towards the end of the day, beginning to want food.
But I digress.
Jeremy was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed for school, but still bleary-eyed. His hair was a mess (but to be fair it always is). His glasses were kind of crooked and he was surrounded by the tins we keep our Christmas cookies in. If any of you have read Uncle Benny's blog, you won't be surprised that there are cookie tins everywhere. But what surprised me this morning was that Jeremy had before him a cereal bowl into which he was placing various cookies, saying (and I quote):
'This is a nutritious breakfast. These cookies have eggs. Milk. Wheat from the flour. Cinnamon (for the Snickerdoodles), which you say is good for the cardiovascular system. Nuts, which everyone knows have amino fatty acids in them. You know, those are good for you too.'
Don't you hate it when things you say come back to bite you in ways you never thought they would? It was amusing, though, I must admit.
Once at work, I did my thing for a while before P.G. (Patrick...or Pat II...or Pat...or Patty Mae...or etc.) was informed by Linda that Christine (an old teacher) was stopping by to see him because she heard he was leaving (which he is...for Oregon to join his wife and live happily ever after). Linda then said this:
Linda: 'Gee, Pat, all the ladies are calling you now.'
Pat: (Enter Amy[another teacher]) 'I know. I should leave every year.'
Amy: 'What's going on?'
Pat: 'All the ladies are coming out of the woodwork. What are you going to do once I'm gone, Amy?'
Amy: 'Live by glancing at a picture of you.'
Me: (laughing) 'Now all you need is to get your guitar, find a stage and just wait for the ladies to throw their panties at you.'
Pat: 'I dunno, Arty, I might not like that.'
Me: 'It's the thought that counts.'
I also made a new friend today. Her name is Camille. Camille Grace. She's Allan's daughter (he's a teacher). She's three years old and very precocious, not to mention brave! She walked into the darkened boiler room all by herself because her curiosity compelled her to. She became my friend because I had 'magic' crackers in my desk.
Now, I've mentioned that my desk is older. Well, I've discovered that if one of the drawers is closed tightly, none of the others will open. So after giving Camille a couple crackers, she came over and asked for more, which I gladly gave her. After all, saltines were my bread today and green tea was my water. Upon asking me a third time for crackers, I said:
Me: 'I dunno, Camille, they're magic crackers and are harder to find than regular crackers.'
Camille: 'Magice crackers?'
Me: 'That's right. My desk is a magic desk and there might not be any more magic crackers left.'
Camille: (trying to open the drawers to look for the crackers she didn't believe were magic, but instead finding it wouldn't open).
Me: 'Uh-oh. I think my desk doesn't like you very much. Maybe if you asked it to 'please' open its drawers it would let you look inside.'
Camille: (looking at me, then at the drawers) 'Open please.'
Me: (opening the control drawer just a bit).
Camille: (successfully opening the drawer) *laughs*
Me: 'See? My desk likes nice people that say please.'
We then continued the game with the other drawers only to find that Camille and I had eaten all the magic crackers it had to offer. It was also towards the end of this game that Allan came in to collect his daughter and after a smile and a hug goodbye, Camille left me to my work. And believe you me, after she was gone, my work seemed mundane indeed.
So now, as I sit here in our apartment on the sofa, the tree twinkling to my left and my music softly filtering out through the speakers I allowed Matt to have, I think of all this. I should probably go stick my French fries into the oven. They've been sitting it flavorful goodness the last half hour and should be good to go. All in all, I've had a strangely magical day, what with Jeremy pointing out the nutrition in cookies and justifying them as breakfast food and Camille searching my desk for magic crackers.
Here's hoping you all find some magic while it's still the Christmas season.
Later Days,
Arty
17:10 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (1) | Email this
12/14/2007
Teary
I'm at home now. I'm at home and although it's been a day where time has gone by really quickly, it's been a day of moments when I was near to tears. I'm caught between the sounds of my dad watching a documentary on WWII on television and Jeremy practicing his trumpet. Being near tears should really be self-explanatory here.
My mother was violently ill last night. I was up with her and on the phone with an advice nurse on her behalf. She's feeling better, if not a bit sore. She and my grandmother were near my workplace this morning. They were going to stop by and drop off a spinach salad for me. Because I'm a spinach whore. They also brought with them a vase (cheap, I'm guessing because I had mentioned wanting to get a cheap one for the office) and flowers (roses and wildflowers with some evergreen pine thrown in to make my desk area smell like Christmas.
I almost cried.
Today I got my first paycheck. Naturally I won't go into details about how much I make since that's of a personal nature, but this too has made me weepy. I'm proud of myself and humbled by God's perfect timing come to fruition. It's an odd feeling to have, really. It makes me want to tell everyone that I got my first paycheck and then retreat into a corner to savor my lack of control in the world and marvel at how I am kept and sustained despite that which I ultimately lack.
So all in all, it's been a full day. I got to work a few minutes late because traffic, even on the surface streets today was horrendous. I arrived to no messages, which was nice. There are normally messages that are left in the central voicemail box overnight about things and it's part of my job to listen to them and send them wherever it is they go.
After that it was an hour straight of non-stop phone calls that Linda and I had to tag-team on. It was a miracle I got the lunch orders in. After said hour of madness, I was put to work on creating a filing system for Ed-Code stuffs, which took the majority of my morning. I had to do everything times two because we have two different sites, one elementary school site and then the middle/high school site (which is where I'm based).
I also sorted toxic wastes (i.e. old printer cartidges, used batteries, old mobile phones, etc.). Everything before had been thrown into one big pile near my desk and when it comes to work things, I like order. And when I say order, I really mean if someone touched my stuff and didn't leave it the way they found it, I'd declare war, fight, and win. And by win, I mean destroy the opposition.
After a quick, but completely thorough wash, I was back at my desk all of ten minutes before my mom and grandmother came by with the aforementioned eats and beauties. After a quick gabbing session during which they met Linda, they were off and I was left to arrange my flowers as I saw fit, which I did. I then sat back and smiled, relishing the question of 'where the flowers came from' from curious co-workers. I smiled each time I looked at them, which is rather the point I suppose.
As a side note, I brought them home with me so that the automatic furnace wouldn't wilt the lovelies over the weekend.
It was at this point of the day that I sat back to eat the leafy greenery that had been gifted me. It was very good. As are most spinachy things.
My afternoon consisted of running errands to and fro across the island. My errands included, but are not limited to:
- Making a bank deposit. This transaction whenever it occurs is made especially interesting since the majority of my memories of banks include my dad. I would always go with him to the bank as a child.
- Buying printer paper.
- Buying color/black ink cartridges to replace some that had gone out.
- Going to the post office.
- Going to the UPS Store to drop off several packages of used toner rollers for recycling purposes.
- Buying six mousetraps.
- Buying myself some Vitamin Water. It was yummy and much needed.
By the time I got back to the office, it was after three. I gave Pat all the receipts from everything and retreated to my desk where I tallied the lunch counts for this week, wrote Margaret a check (she runs the lunch program for us) and gave the check as well as a copy of the week's tally to Linda to mail and pretty much checked out for the afternoon and weekend.
This was not, however, before I gave Linda a bowl of eats I had prepared. You see, P.G. (Pat the Guy) at the office is leaving for Oregon next week and there was a get-together tonight after work for him. Since my mother was so ill and isn't feeling up to par just yet, I made the stuff and sent it along with Linda.
Now here's the part of the blog Cat will both hate and love me for.
I made buckwheat soba noodles (they're Japanese). Mixed with it was some shredded chicken that had been roasted, scallions all cut up, soy sauce, sesame oil and a dressing made of honey, jalapeño, cilantro, salt, pepper and a little water.
I tested it out on Matt last night. He seemed to like it, so I gave it the green light. And I sent it with Linda.
And now comes the part of my blog Cat will really hate me for. It's the time I'm going to mention that I'm going to end said blog and go away to cook. What I'll cook has yet to be determined, but I reckon a quick rummaging session through the pantry and cupboards will yield something quite edible.
Later Days,
Arty
17:34 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (3) | Email this
12/13/2007
Lunch Break Lyrics
So I'm here at the office. At my desk. With my newly purchased 17" LCD flat screen monitor. With my post-it notes across the bottom of the monitor. They have various information on them. Passwords. Extensions. Reminders to order testing booklets. A running list of things to order and/or to pick up from the store. It includes partition hooks. A calculator. Duct and masking tape, but I've already gotten those.
So I'm here at the office. At my desk. My clean, clear desk. It's old. And you have to open the pencil drawer to open any of the other ones. It's a trick I learned all on my own. To my right is my phone. The computer tower. The electric pencil sharpener. A much-used box of facial tissues. The holder for my post-it notes, empty because the post-it pad is elsewhere. I use that a lot.
Also to my right, my commuter mug with just a drip of cold green tea left in it. My sunglasses beside it.
Behind my flat screen monitor, the three-hole punch, my stapler and my tape dispenser. Hollis uses all three a lot. I like it when she comes over to my desk to use them. She is careful to put everything back where I had it. I think that when I came here and took over for Arielle (the girl whom I took over for) that my sudden two-day cleaning spree scared her a little. She can tell I'm very particular about where I keep things. And she doesn't want to upset me.
To my left a pile of old student information. I've named it the 'shred pile.' It contains information pertinent to past and gone students. It's the information that could be used to steal identity, so it sits in a pile waiting to be shredded. Above that, my desk organizer. Three black metal trays, stacked one on top of the other. In the bottom tray, a pile of newly-printed Ed-Code documents. In the center tray, testing files. In the top, the lunch files. They are organized, top to bottom, in the order I use them most.
Beside my trays to the right, a box of PUR water filters. More are needed and I just took the box to get the model number. I've read more information than I ever want to know about water borne diseases on this box. Seriously. It puts me off tap water. And I dread to think of all those times I took a sip from the garden hose as a child.
Lastly, beside that an invitation for a Christmas party. My first ever staff Christmas party. It's going to be at a yacht club. Swanky. There's going to be an open bar. I'm kind of curious to see how many some people will knock back. I'm debating whether or not to go. I've only been here two weeks. There's a chance I'd have no one to talk to. But I suppose I should seriously consider going.
So I'm here at the office. I got to drive a hyrbid car today. My dad had my car to do some tests on it, so he dropped me off. Pat wanted me to run errands for her, but without a car there was only so far I could go. She gave me her car keys and I drove her hybrid car for the errands. It's amazingly quiet.
So I'm here at the office. Biding my time until four o'clock. I reckon I'll have to run another errand. This one is to the hardware store. For mouse traps. I'm not all together pleased. Pest control sections in stores give me the willies. It's not that I want the mouse to stay here. I don't. It needs to go away. But to poison it...I think that's what gets to me and makes the hair at the base of my neck stand up. I can't abide cruelty to animals.
Okay, so that's a bit of a lie. If I'm alone and in a pinch, I have no qualms about killing a spider. But if I'm at home, I have Matt trap it inside a teacup and take it out. Perhaps not so good an idea now that there's a huge tiger spider that's set up shop outside the French windows. I won't even pretend to be heartbroken that the wind two days ago destroyed its web. It does beg the question, though: where's the gigantic tiger spider gone if not in its web?
Linda is in the office with me. It's quiet right now. The only sound is me typing away at the keyboard and the fax machine. I forgot to mention the fax machine is next to my desk on the left. So is my garbage bin. And some containers I'm not sure about. I have no idea what's inside. Noise will be back. It always comes back with Pat (the guy, Pat this time). He's a lively character. I'll miss him when he's gone to Oregon.
There's a Christmas tree in the office. It's made entirely of plastic and looks as though it was born in the 50s. This might be true considering Linda said it used to belong to her mother. I helped her decorate it. It's not much, but it's ours and we like it. I want some flowers for my desk too. But I don't have a cheap enough vase that I want to bring to work. I have three of them. One is a Waterford crystal vase that Matt gave me our first Valentine's Day together. He sent a dozen pink roses with that. The second is a lead crystal vase that Phil and Carolyn gave me as an engagement gift. The last is a sand glass vase from Cathy that she got in Sweden.
The reason I don't want one of those here is that it's a school and no school is thief proof. I don't care how much money goes into security measures. It always happens. It's inevitable. So I want to get a cheap glass vase to keep here. That way if it gets stolen or broken I won't have any regrets about it. Furthermore I won't have any memories that are tied to it either.
So I'm here at the office. Wondering when Matt and I will be going to wherever it is we need to go in order to finish off the furnishing process for the apartment. Our last vestige of empty space is the spare room. We're going soon to fix that. We're off to buy a rug, a sofa, a TV stand, some lamps and perchance a desk. Matt is still unsure about the desk.
We have a bunch of art to get framed. In the mix are a Kandinsky, an O'Keefe, a Picasso and a few others that are really cool. I like the O'Keefe. She went to my college. Way back when. Still. She went to my college. The O'Keefe will go in the bedroom. It's ablue painting, you see, and the bedroom is green and blue. They're soothing colors.
So I'm here at the office. On my lunch break. Composing for you this gibberish. Rumors are forming that I will be featured on a CD soon. My uncles and my mother and I. We're planning on cutting a CD. Of what, I'm not sure. But I do know that I'm going to turn to my attention to lyrics and try to compose some for you. We'll see how it goes.
Later Days,Arty
13:49 Posted in Blog | Permalink | Comments (5) | Email this
12/10/2007
Zinc
Hello my loves! Yes, 'tis I, Arty. I thought I'd take some time this afternoon to blog some. Once again I'm doing it with the sole purpose of staying awake in mind. Why am I so tired? Well, work tends to do that to a girl. But I'm also sick with a cold. I think I'll break this blog down into easy-to-follow categories. Thanks to Morts for this idea!
LIFE
Life is settling into a routine. It amazes me how quickly I've been able to adapt myself to a work environment. But that's a separate section in and of itself.
I spend some time on Saturday out with my mom and grandmother. We all did some shopping for Christmas. It helped that all the boys were gone. My dad was with Jeff, Jeremy and Matt all day and they were doing shopping at Valley Fair (a big ass shopping center!) in San Jose. They didn't get back until after dinner time. This, of course, meant the three of us girls were left to our own devices as to food.
The day started with a trip to the salon. My mother goes to get her nails done every couple weeks and sometimes, though not often, I tag along and pamper myself. I've got a funy French manicure going on right now and some Christmas red toenails. It was a lot of fun.
Once we were done at the salon, my mom and I went to pick up a medium pizza and a salad to bring home. The three of us all nibbled on that and I was brave enough to try eating beets again to see if my palette had changed at all. It hasn't. I still loathe the taste of beets. So that goes on the very short list of foods I don't like. It goes right up there near cauliflower. In fact, those might be one of the only two things I'd refuse to eat. I like most every other food.
But I digress.
After lunch, the three of us (remember we're talking my mom, my gran and myself here) went out to do some shopping. It was fun. We came home tired, but happy. I was made even happier when I got to sprawl across the living room floor and wrap some presents. The boys, once they returned went crazy and being the big kids they are, they immediately made a B-line to see which ones were theirs. They're far too smart to even ask if any of them are theirs. They just automatically know that at least one belongs to them. Cheeky gits.
Life also has dealt me a cold. It sucks eggs. Jeremy was sick late last week (and still is) and so was Matt, so between the two of them I stood no chance. As it is I'm sprawling in the chair near the Christmas tree wishing for death. Okay, so that's an exaggeration. It's not that bad, but I've spent the better part of the afternoon trying to scratch my eyes out. When I get a cold it's like I have reeeeeeeeaalllllllly bad allergy symptoms. It's not fun, that much I'll tell you.
I've been Zycam-ing myself. Zycam is a drug here stateside that's got a majority of zinc in it. It comes in various forms, most of them cherry, which makes me want to vomit. Literally. When I was younger, I was really sick and my mom gave me a cherry cough drop to see if it would help my throat. But I threw up instead, so to this day I associate cherry flavored stuff with vomiting. It's horrible.
That said, I stay away from the cherry flavored stuff as though it were the plague. Zycam also comes in little orange flavored tablets that dissolve on your tongue. The thing about it is you can't bite it and it's just nasty to let it sit there. Option number three is the option I went for. That's right. I went for a mint flavored oral spray. They've also got nasal spray and some nasal swabs, but they were out when I went to buy the stuff. So spray it is!
Now I've got an extra boost of zinc-y goodness, but I've got minty fresh breath to boot. The spray goes on the inside of the cheeks, the roof of the mouth and under the tongue. Four sprays and you're done. I love it. No hassle, non-drowsy relief.
WORK
Section two cometh!
Work is grand. I love being gainfully employed. I'm beginning to think that I was mildly depressed whilst looking for a job. It was tremendously discouraging to not see common knowledge (that being that to get anywhere in the world, you need a degree) not line up with reality. It truly is a world of who you know, not what you know. I sincerely think that mediocrity is, in many ways, a direct result of 'knowing the right people' to land a job they aren't qualified for. And so the vicious cycle in perpetuated and retained for the generations to come.
It was discouraging looking for a job because my credentials didn't impress anyone. I was just 'another college graduate' looking for work. And because I applied myself so adamantly to schoolwork (the idea and purpose behind my manic approach to classes being an October wedding) I didn't know anyone. Thus I was caught in the cycle. A genuinely clever girl capable of nearly anything she gives her attention to and I couldnt' find a job. No one wanted me because I wasn't known.
It's funny how God's timing works out. I had just about given up all hope when a job offer crossed my path. I'd been offered several jobs beforehand so I didn't think this one would be any different. They'd ask me in, have their secretary make small talk with me in an attempt to make me feel welcomed, I'd be thrown into an office, asked questions point blank and then ushered out with an 'it was nice to meet you, we'll be in touch.' It's a routine they have. And they're good at it. I'll give 'em that.
So, this place I interviewed was different. It's a school for kids who have varying degrees of behavioral, emotional and mental problems. The majority of them have some degree of autism. I knew going in that this had to be a special place. I mean, it's a place where all the kids no one wants go. The people who work there are extraoridnary individuals. They're dynamic and defiant and soft-hearted. They are the ones who truly care enough to say 'wait, this isn't right' when the rest of us see a problem seemingly too complicated to fix and move on, leaving them behind to fend for themselves in a world that has show that it doesn't want them.
These people, all of them, are heroes.
And I wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to make a statement of faith by standing with them instead of against them, or worse yet (I think) indifferent to them. It's one thing to claim genuine ignorance, but when the facts are laid bare and you still claim indifference, something needs to be assessed. Mediocrity doesn't foster a renaissance of the human spirit, nor will it if at least one person doesn't defy and slay the beast named average. I wanted to make a change in the world, to be part of something that I could look back upon and be proud of. And that's what I'm doing. I'm helping to educate kids that will be and define the future of all of us.
Besides, education, like death, is an equalizer. If everyone is highly educated there will be no need to 'know' people in order to be a shoe-in for a job. You'll get it based solely on merit and retain it based on dedication.
So, to make a long story short, my interview went well and when offered it, I took the job.
PEOPLE
I have several people coming into my life. Needless to say, the majority of them are from work. New job equals new people, after all.
Allan - Terrific guy. He's a loud one too. I can hear him from across campus talking to his classroom full of boys. He's always the first one to say good morning to me (I start earlier than other office people).
Bren - This guy is inquisitive. He asks me questions all the time, mostly pertaining to supplies, but like Allan, he always say hello to me.
Linda - My office buddy. She's older, but what she lacks in youths he makes up for in spades of sweetness. She's amazingly affectionate towards students and staff alike. She's like a mother to everyone and she welcomed me to the workplace by making me feel at ease.
P Diddy - Her real name is Patrica, but we call her Pat for short. Problem is there's another Pat that works there and he's a guy. Thus P Diddy. She's my boss and also in charge of all the financial/business things. That said, I'm rekindling my love with numbers as each day passes. I forgot how fun numbers can be.
Pat - This guy is surprisingly sentimental. He's got a great laugh and he'll be leaving in two weeks to move to Oregon. He told the kids today that he's leaving to be with his family (they've been in Oregon for quite a while now) and I had trouble seeing him do it. I almost lost it when Ryan (one of the students) stood up after being told and said, 'as far as people here go, Pat, you're my best friend.' And he offered his hand. Pat gave him a hug and I nearly cried. Pat nearly did as well.
Gus - The executive director of the school. I've had a hard time gauging him. He's definitely committed to running a tight ship, but he's a good guy deep down. That much I can tell from his interaction with staff and students.
Hollis - Teacher in Rm. 104 and laugh-bucket extraordinaire. This girl has got a better laugh than Pat. You can hear her clear across campus after school lets out.
Tracy - Best smile ever. No competition there. She's always saying hello to me when she comes into the office and she's one of the only ones, so far, that'll talk to me just for the sake of talking. It's not always work-related, which I love.
Now, I also have a college friend of mine coming home from school this week. She went straight to a masters program in the midwest somewhere and will be in town. For how long, I'm still not sure, but plans are going to be made to get together. Her name is Catherine and she's a math major. She's the kind of girl all the other people hate because she' good with numbers.
CHRISTMAS
Decorations have been up for two weeks. They're pretty, just like always. My mother has insisted on putting her little nativity sets in between my teacups on the hutch, which drives me up a wall. I hate it...HATE...when she puts things near my teacups. Some of them are far more expensive than all her nativity sets put together. It makes me absolutely crazy.
Of course, Christmastime also brings with it, pet peeves that come around every year. Here's a short list:
1) People leaving the front door open when they go outside for a little while. To take out the garbage, the recycling, to move cars...it just doesn't matter to me. It makes me crazy when they don't close the door behind them and this is made more irritating when our front door has the capability of being unlocked so that the door will open from the outside for you.
So, on a scale of one to ten of how much this makes me want to pull my hair out, #1 ranks about an eight.
2) Nativity sets. Don't get me wrong. I like them and I've actually borrowed a couple from my mother fort he apartment this year, but the woman has ten million of them. So to accomodate her freak-like love of them, she turns the house into a no-touchy museum.
As mentioned earlier, there are tiny ones on the hutch amongst my teacups. Irritation numero uno, my friends. There's one under the tree, which totally takes up space that we need to nestle gifts there. The entire hearth is consumed with them as is the only side table we have out (we put the second one away for Christmas and it makes its home quite happily in the attic). There's one on top of the speakers in the living room, one on the floor between the brick hearth and the foot of the side table, which has at least two on it.
Scale rating = 6 or 7 depending on my mood that day.
3) Cold v. Heating issues. That's right. A paradox in the making. I have a loft bed, which puts me about three feet from the ceiling. In order to sleep comfortably and not wake up in the middle of the night feeling as though someone is choking me, I need a window open some. My mother, however, does not believe in this, so she and I are always at odds with one another over an open window at night.
The argument inevitably will go something like this:
Mom (coming into my room and closing the window when I'm still semi-awake): *tuts*
Me (half dazed): Leave it open, mom.
Mom: It's too cold to have the window open.
Me: No it's not.
Mom: Yes it is. It's too cold for the boy (I still share a room with my brothers).
Me: They'll be fine.
Mom: They'll get sick.
Me: No they won't.
Mom: Yes they will.
Me: No, the won't. I'm telling you they won't.
Mom: But Jeremy is already sick and it's not good for him. He'll get worse.
Me: No he won't! Leave the window open!
Mom: I'm closing it.
Me: No! It has to stay open otherwise it gets to be a like a furnace in here for me and Jeremy (he sleeps on the top bunk and therefore is close to the ceiling too).
Mom: He'll get sicker.
Me: Don't close my window!
And this is the point where my mother closes the window and storms out . I always wait a while before reaching over and opening it again anyway because I'm right about the whole thing. If the window isn't open for the night Jeremy and I always...ALWAYS...end up waking up in the middle of the night trying to cool off. It's a necessary function of the room at night.
And even as I write about sleep I find it hard to stave off slumber much longer. I must away with myself now and nap. Goodnight, my loves. Talk soon.
Later Days,
Arty
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12/08/2007
Kooza
Saw Kooza last night. It was amazing.
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12/04/2007
Descript
Hello. Yes, I know 'descript' isn't a word. It's part of one. And I'm okay with that. I like the way it sounds. So yes, I did make up a word, but no, I didn't do it ignorantly. It's purposely made up to prove a point.
So I'm sitting in my favorite chair at the moment curled up into a somewhat tight ball. My legs are tucked under me and I'm generally just lounging about having done my time today. For those of you who don't know, I think the time has come to share the news that I am now gainfully employed. Yes. It's true. Sadly my days of plotting evil are over, which I'm sure some of you more than others are thrilled about.
So yes. Gainful employment is pretty good, really. It so nice to fall asleep at night because I'm tired rather than stay up until all hours of the night thinking and/or reading just because sleep eluded me. Yesterday was my first day, which is pretty nice considering that I won't have a weird check cut to me come the 15th (I get paid twice a month). By the time December is over I'll have put in a full month of work and that makes everything circular. And circles are good things. For more than one reason. I won't go into the reasons circles are good now because I really do lack the mental capacity to face the deep philosophy that's bound to come up somewhere in the conversation.
And yes, I realize it would be a one-sided conversation since, after all, it is my blog and no one is conversing with me.
I'd tell you what my job is, except I'm not aware of the full scope of what it is I do yet. Yesterday, being my first day, was really just a big blur. Literally, I could not tell you what I did yesterday, except clean my desk, to save my life. I felt as though people just came to me, at my newly cleaned and tidy desk, and passed papers in front of my eyes for me to look at and somehow understand. Words were also strangely jumbled up to sound like the adults in Charlie Brown cartoons. In fact, I spent most of my afternoon wishing I was Snoopy. After all, he gets a house of his own and gets to sleep all day. And as we all know, Snoopy rules.
I've been pinched once again by my muse for writing...
(Aside)
As an aside, I have to add the disclaimer here in case any of you missed it in the comment I left on the last posting. The poetry, beautiful as it is and as much as I'd love to claim it, is not mine. It belongs to someone else far more talented than I and due credit should be given to him, not to me. I am an avid believer in the criminality of plagiarism and I don't want to be found guilty of so heinous an offense.
(End of aside)
I've been pinched once again by my muse for writing. It's extremely funny that once I graduated school my writing really just went into hibernation. I had nothing to do. No school. No reading. No required writing. No job. I had nothing and yet my will to write disappeared, or at least it seemed so. I think perhaps my creative spark was required to burn too brightly there for a time and just died out and smoldered for a while before gaining the strength to come back and do what it does.
Since I have been itching to start writing again, I've gone back to several projects that had to be pushed aside for the purposes of papers pertaining to heteronormative homosexuality (I'm not even making that one up either), the role of women in medieval, early modern and 19th century literature and whether or not public executionary tactics worked as a deterrent for crime 500 years ago. Don't get me wrong, I had fun writing on those things (well, all except the last one right there at the end of the thesis it was...seriously, I was sick of looking at manifestos and court transcripts from trials in Winchester from their archives). Still, the fact remains that there were other things I had been pulling together before then.
My writing is a closely guarded secret known only to a select few. And even to those select few, very little of the real core of what I'm writing is revealed. Here are some hints as to what some of my writing is about:
Project 1:
Involves pirates, revenge, deeply lying bonds of unbreakable friendship and hardship, finding a place in the world and figuring out what your purpose is.
Project 2:
Also involves a bit of pirating, but this one is much more grounded in vein of wanting to avenge one's father. Main character is the daughter of a famous man and therefore a living legend herself. She sells herself into bondage, is wrongfully treated, escapes, finds the true meaning of letting someone close to you and letting them love you. Finding out what family is and what it means is also a big part of this one.
Project 3:
Historical fiction. Based just before the Revolutionary War. I think I really do require being in places like Boston or Philadelphia to see them and touch them before I go further with this one.
Project 4:
Also historical fiction, but set during the French Revolution. I spent a semester of school, whilst doing my general ed, studying the French government and believe me when I tell you that in order to understand the modern one, you have to understand the previous ones. And you have to intimately know the revolutions. All of them.
This one has betrayal and a superior change of heart from my villian. That doesn't stop him from dying, though.
Project 5:
A departure from true historical and psuedo historical writing, is a fantasy. Utterly and completely. We're talking magic, supernatural powers, etc. I think of all my writing this has been the one that has stretched me the most. It forces me to think outside the box so indeed the freedom I have had to create anything...anything at all...is a restriction for me in a weird way.
Project 6:
A revisting of my English thesis. Some of you might remember that I planned on writing five short stories, but only got a chance to do three of them completely. I'm seriously considering going back and finishing it off.
And now I must go away. I have things to do, people to see and things to write about!
Later Days,
Arty
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12/03/2007
La Rósa de Bethlehem
There's a rose in Bethlehem
With a beauty quite divine
Perfect in this world of sin
On this silent, holy night
There's a fragrance much like home
That is sends upon the wind
Reaching out to every soul
From a lowly manger's crib
O rose of Bethlehem
How lovely, pure and sweet
Born to glorify the Father
Born to wear the thorns for me
There's a rose in Bethlehem
Colored red like mercy's blood
'Tis the flower of our faith
'Tis the blossom of God's love
Though its bloom is fresh with you
Surely what will be He knows
For a tear of morning dew
Is rolling down the rose
O rose of Bethlehem
How lovely, pure and sweet
Born to glorify the Father
Born to wear the thorns for me
Born to glorify the Father
Born to wear the thorns for me
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