Hometown: The Roch, MI (aka. The Crotch, aka. Crotchscratcher, aka. Crotchmolester, aka. Rochester)
Currently Living: Clawson, MI
Height: 5'8
Weight: Ha ha, yeah right
Favorite Color: Blue (preferably navy)
Profession: Researcher
Favorite Nickname: Trick, Sloan
Favorite Drinks:Vodka Tonic, Guinness, Diet Dr. Pepper, Dirty Martinis, red wine
Favorite TV Show: Friends, Sex & The City, Project Runway, The Amazing Race, Iron Chef America
Least Favorite TV Show: A Baby Story, I Love Lucy, Martha Stewart, Everybody Loves Raymond, every hour long drama
Favorite Books: The History of Love, Beloved, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Fight Club, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The of Being, SurUnbearable Lightness vivor, Empire Falls, The Corrections, The Bell Jar
Favorite Movies: Little Miss Sunshine, Anchorman, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Wordplay, American Beauty, Life is Beautiful, Amelie, Breakfast Club, Singin In The Rain, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sleeping Beauty, Dancer in the Dark, Duets, The Virgin Suicides, The Manchurian Candidate (1962), Austin Powers I, II & III, My Best Friends Wedding, Moulin Rouge, Tommy Boy, Billy Madison, The Shining, Gone With The Wind, Bridget Jones' Diary, Chicago, Love Actually
Guilty Pleasure Movies: Xanadu, Dirty Dancing, Overboard, Groundhog Day, Steel Magnolias, 10 Things I Hate About You, Bond movies, Footloose, Clue, Murder By Death, High Spirits, A Cinderella Story
What I Do Too Much: Check email, crossword puzzles, complain about my job to friends and family,
Obsessions: sushi, Indian food, ranch dressing, toenail polish, song lyrics, hands, awards shows, symmetry, avocados, maps, dreams, This American Life, the display in my car that tracks my MPG
Pet Peeves: loud eaters, slurping, gulping, arrogance, snoring, bad grammar, repetition, late mergers, ripping cardboard, the word "chunky", intolerance, couples in a restaurant sitting on the same side of a booth, pop-up ads, privacy manager, men that drive without shirts on, being foolish, unfairly jumping to conclusions, being made fun of, cat-calling, people who type too hard
Greatest Fear: crossing bridges
Relaxing Activites: late night drives to sing by myself, headstands, hot baths,
Wish I Was: Ansel Adams, Jenifer Aniston, in love, living alone
Prized Possessions: ring from my grandparents, flower pot of my Grandma's, electric blanket (temporarily broken), tongue scraper, my bed
Craziest Thing Ever Done: getting a tattoo, strip Jenga
Things I Eventually Want To Do: skydive, buy a guitar, learn how to play the aforementioned guitar, take flying lessons, travel to France, write a novel, learn how to play the harp, tap dancing lessons, run a marathon
Thursday, December 30, 2004 I know I don't know you....Two mysteries mysteriously solved this week. I feel like friggin' Matlock or something. Which, coinicidentally, I sat down and watched an entire episode of this week. Man, is that show bad.
Mystery #1:
On Thanksgiving, my parents received an email from my aunt and uncle who live in Kalamazoo. They have two kids (my cousins), one who recently moved to Los Angeles (my future superstar cousin Ryan), and one who had been working on cruise ships for the last 8 months, Nicole. In the email, giving my parents an update of what their family was up to, my aunt mentioned that both Ryan and Nicole, in their respective locations, had run into people who knew who I was. Say what?
Now, I only know a few people in L.A., but Ryan did meet Pnut when Suzy went out to visit. So that is a likely explanation of who knew me. But on a cruise ship? There seem to be a limited number of individuals on a cruise ship at any given moment in time, so what are the chances that two people I know are on the same one and actually figure that out?
Last Monday, Amy and I got together with two of our friends, Heidi and Holly, who were the two girls that were our first friends when we moved to Rochester. And although I have multitudes of stories that I could tell about all of the most amazing fun times we've had with these girls, suffice it now to say that most of the laughing that I did between the ages of 8-17 were with them. So we met up for dinner and it ended up being a large family affair -- parents, brother, cousins (who I haven't seen since they were about 2 years old, currently now teenagers), brother's friends. It was quite a posse. And lo and behold, the first thing out of their brother, Eric's mouth was, "Did you know that I've spent the last 8 months working on a cruise ship with your cousin?" Amy and I let out a cross between an "Ah HA!" in celebration of discovering the mystery, and an "Ahhhhh," as though it were somehow obvious and we had just over-looked it. It was a moment akin to the point in Amelie when she discovers the mysterious man in the pictures isn't a ghost, but the photo booth repair man. The light shone around and the satisfaction of discovery was wonderful.
Mystery #2:
Everytime I've been getting into my car in the last couple weeks, I acknowledged an overwhelming smell of what reminds me of a cleaning solvent. I most certainly have not taken the time to ArmorAll my car recently, as evidenced by the fine layer of dust accumulating on my dashboard. And I just threw away most of the crap that had been collecting in my car. So I knew very well that there wasn't any nastiness hiding under any of the seats. So it was just a mystery. Maybe just the heat or something? Who knows.
Well, I went to put groceries in my trunk the other day, when the perpetrator of the solvent smell made his presence known. When I got my new car, I took everything from the trunk of my old car and tossed it into the trunk of my new car, including jumper cables, a gas tank, and a jug of windshield bug remover stuff. I had been warned not to put the bug stuff in my windshield wipers due to the fact that it wasn't designed to withstand extra cold temperatures. Well, this in fact still holds true if the liquid remains in the plastic container as well. Considering that many of the days of the last couple weeks were barely double-digit days, the fluid froze inside the container and cracked the plastic lid. So by the point I opened the trunk to put in my groceries, the only amount left in the container was a still frozen core that amounts to about 1/3 of the original jug. If anyone has any suggestions on how one would go about cleaning this mess so that my groceries don't smell like Windex, it would be greatly appreciated.
I'm hoping that I will be able to get my detective badge sometime in the near future....fat chance.
1:57 PM
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
By the way, I have this candle in my room that I bought at Pier One probably about a year ago. And I think I have a love affair with this scent. Because I could seriously stand over it and sniff in the aroma like a damn bloodhound. Hours. HOURS I could do this. It makes me want to shut my door and stuff towels under the crack so I don't share it's precious smell with the rest of the apartment. Yes, I'm that obsessed.
7:08 PM
And maybe she'd take me to France, and maybe in Spain, she'd ask me to dance in a mansion on the top of the hill....I'm trying to pretend to be inspired writer girl tonight, complete with glass of red wine. I was hoping to channel Sylvia Plath or something. Well, except without the whole nasty suicide bit. But with the brilliant witty writing part. But instead I'm whining on my blog about why I can't accomplish anything.
About 1 1/2 years ago, I submitted a piece of writing for the local hipster newspaper's "music edition", requesting music journalistic pieces. They would choose the best and publish them. I was called by the hipster paper telling me that I was one of the top 25 that they had chosen and that it was one of the funniest that they had received. Although I didn't end up being one of the final chosen ones (that sounds a litle religious cultish, like they were picking members for a new Dravidian Cult, southeast Michigan chapter), it was the only thing that I've ever submitted for any kind of contest or anything. And it was certainly ego-feeding and self-doubt-eliminating to hear that they thought it was any good, and that someone (other than my friends or family,) who has some bonafide writing clout gave me some props.
I have no excuse for why I haven't done anything since this time in the past year and a half. Other than getting to the point where I sit down at my computer with great ideas bursting from my head that I have jotted down all over ATM receipts and my little notebook. But I think that it's something about staring at a blank screen that daunts me. It's something about printed words on a screen that don't convey what is lurking in my head. I can edit like a fiend from a printed text, but I can't get it right on a computer.
And I've considered just writing it all out long-hand, but that has become limited to extra-short pieces. I can't even complete excessively long thoughts in my journal due to sheer laziness of handwriting. And I've even considered investing in a typewriter, hoping that the blank sheets of paper wouldn't have the same effect on my mental imbalance as a blank screen. But until recently, such purchase would have incurred wrath from the crazies that used to live downstairs. Which, in hindsight, makes me wish even more that I would have made the purchase. "Well I'm sorry, but it's my job to write, and when I have deadlines, I have to type in the middle of the night." Lie, and lie, but those would have been two lies that would have been worth it for those bastards.
So what's my point here? I can't seem to get anything done. I have about 10 different things in varying stages of completion, and I like rereading them, and find myself thinking, "Hey, I actually wrote that?" But I haven't been doing a very good job of adding anything additional to them. So there are just more and more blank pages on more and more half-finished things I've written. But since this is one of my New Year's Resolutions, I guess I should get on it, instead of typing away more and more garbage to fill up a blog.
Ya know what though? That one piece that I submitted? I actually really like it.
6:35 PM
Tuesday, December 28, 2004 These are the days that bring you meaning, I feel the stillness of the sun and I feel fine....Quite a few days to catch up on here. I'll pull the "I wasn't at home for three full days, living out of my car and sleeping on other people's couches, and therefore blogging was far from my mind" excuse. I think that should suffice.
There were mulitple moments on Christmas Eve and Day and the day after that one or more of my family members would turn to each other with their hand over their heart, and emit an "Awwww," in a sweet, bursting with love kind of way. Like when my nephew gave his gift to his mom and the excitement and happiness of giving and receiving was equally overwhelming for both of them (or like my mom said, if someone would have said "Boo", we all would have started crying). Or when my other nephew brought his newly constructed ferris wheel down for everyone to see. Or when one of the munchkins got a spare when bowling, they would all have a big jumping up and down group hug at the end of the lane. There was just so much cuteness, I couldn't even stand it!
So yes, my Christmas was excellent. I always used to kind of think Christmas was such a chore because it was always such chaos. And it always seemed like so much work to try to get everything actually working, between food and giving gifts. It was just mayhem. But somehow, I don't care anymore. Or maybe, it's just less chaotic. It seems more enjoyable now to just kind of sit back and take in the crazy, funny moments as they unfurl and enjoy those just as much. Some of my favorites of the last couple days:
~ When Suzy and I were driving out to Amy and Dave's on Christmas day, there's one house in her neighborhood that is the requisite "crazy person" house. Ya know every neighborhood has one. But one of the hallmarks of this house, is their fondness for lawn decorations. Every holiday brings about a new flock of inflatable Easter bunnies, or anything that can be used in conjunction with a garden stake. They clearly spend more money per month on lawn crap than I fork over for rent. So as we approached the house, in anticipation, Suzy and I had a drum roll and Clark Griswoldesque, "Joy to the World!". And when we rounded the corner, it was more gloriously hideous than we could have imagined. And we sat in the car in front of their house for a full couple minutes laughing at the Santa seated on the porch sans head. But as Amy pointed out later, although he's headless, he still has a beard. Go figure.
~ We had the 2nd annual family bowling fest on Sunday. And much like last year, I swear that others watching our family would likely think that we're all a little crazy. Because in the final frame, Suzy had the opportunity to steal the title away from Kevin. And after getting the strike on her first throw, all 14 of us seriously went crazy. We're talkin' every-person-in-the-bowling-alley-looking-towards-our-lane-with-a-look-on-their-face-conveying-a-"what-the-hell-are-they-screaming-about?"-moment. And inspite of Suzy picking up the spare, she was still 2 points shy of claiming the trophy. Yes, the trophy that we have. Lisa has some serious practicing to do next year to 1. break 80 and 2. to make sure her arm doesn't feel like it has been ripped out of the joint the following day.
~ My nephew Jake has a CD player that he loves and listens to non-stop. So he got a whole slew of new CDs from his aunties and Santa, and on Christmas Eve was singing along, unable to "control the VOLUME OF HIS VOICE!" So we were all privy to his renditions, consisting largely of, "Don't be so quick to, walk away."
~ Warning: always check the temperature of a hot tub before hopping in. Especially if it's only ~15 degrees outside. Because cold water in a hot tub makes it that much more miserable to get out.
~ My niece Emily got a Prince and the Pauper Barbie doll from her auntie Suzy for Christmas. And when you push a button on her, she sings a song. And lemme tell ya. I'm sure that Suzy and I were ready to rip that damn thing off the doll by the end of the weekend. I'm sure it's magnified by about 100 for her parents by now.
~ I think Catchphrase is a game designed to create hilarious moments. Especially when your mom is yelling out the answers from the other room. Especially when you're playing with an 8-year old who can come up with better descriptions for words than you. And even smart, inside joke descriptions too.
Well, I hope everyone had a lovely holiday, and is enjoying their days off. It's nice when the only things on your to do list consist of things like, "take a nap". Or "finish reading my book." It's a beautiful thing. Kisses.
10:21 AM
Wednesday, December 22, 2004 I used to worry about the future, but then I threw my caution to the wind....Recommended song for driving home on your last day of work for the year? "Canned Heat" by Jamiroquai. It'll do the trick, I promise. When walking to my car in the parking structure yesterday, I was tempted to envision my life as a musical, and it was clearly the moment that I would have been pulling out the big tap dance number with plenty of open-mouthed smiles, and jazz hands galore. Or at the very least, some clicked heels or skipping. But instead, I saved all that rocking out for the comfort of my car.
I was looking forward to last night for about 2 full weeks. It was our girls night out with my mom and my sisters, which we try to do on a semi-regular basis. But now that my mom is home for the next week, we all set aside any other things we had planned for all of us to go out to dinner together. Suzy and Amy came over early where we watched Oprah (here's me crying), and had some munchies. And appropriately when Laura and my mom showed up, the three of us hid in the bathroom to surprise them. We were the biggest little kids ever, as we were all giggling and trying not to laugh as they were coming up the stairs. We were debating what to yell when we popped out, and instead of my suggestion of, "Hey bitches!" we went with the standard "Welcome home!" But don't worry, the "hey bitches" was used later when Amy and I were pulling the car around. Right before we pulled the, doors-locked, them-trying-to-open-the-door, me-moving-the-car-a-couple-inches-forward move. (I share this paragraph with you to get a general idea of how goofy and immature we can sometimes be. But I assure you that we all laughed a hell of a lot more than any given Tuesday would normally call for).
Well, considering that I haven't started any of my Christmas shopping yet, it seems that I have a very daunting day ahead of me. I'm envisoning the shelves of Toys-R-Us barren, with the salespeople smirking at me, oozing with sarcasm, saying, "You thought you were going to buy that 3 days before Christmas??!!" Hopefully I won't have to resort to buying them socks. Wish me luck. XOXOXO
10:20 AM
Monday, December 20, 2004 I really must go, but baby it's cold outside....How can you not love the fact that the day my parents return from Florida to Michigan is clearly the coldest day of the season so far, by a long shot? I spoke to them yesterday when they were still making their way through Ohio, and my mom didn't want to say that she wasn't look forward to this visit, so as to not offend me, but it seeped through the conversation anyway. Or it could have been the straightforward response of "Yes and No," to the question, "Are you looking forward to the visit?" That may have betrayed her too.
My last exam is in roughly 4 hours. And although I made every effort to study until I could recite the assumptions for running MANOVAs in my sleep, there were two main reasons that I was not as productive as I had planned on being:
1. The exam is open note and book. So whenever I would get frustrated or bored or tired or distracted, the first words out of my mouth? "Well, I'm gonna be able to look it up anyway." Which may turn out to be a bad approach when blank stares at the page can't even guide me in the proper direction.
2. It's that good old time of year where the television is blissfully chock full of everything in countdown form. Which is one of my weaknesses. Anything numbered, listed, or with the words, "Best", "Most", "Worst", "Outrageous", "Littlest", or "Project Runway", in the title, I'm likely to sit down and watch from start to finish. And if you think I'm kidding, I would like to draw your attention to the fact that I have once watched the 25 Greatest Coaches countdown on ESPN before. I don't watch ESPN people! And I even made it a point to look up online the numbers that I had missed. And I think that all of the cable channels yesterday coordinated their schedules so I could just switch from channel to channel without a pause in my number-obsessive tv viewing pleasure. I'd hesitate to say that it was a waste of time. Oh no. Because now I know that God had a really good year, Kanye West was MTV's best vid of the year, and President Bush Sr. yarfing at a State dinner in Japan is certainly outrageous.
And in the spirit of yearly countdowns, here's Lisa's list of favorite CDs for the year ie. the ones that I've played the crap out of:
10. Jet, "Get Born" and Joss Stone, "Mind, Body and Soul"
9. The Shins, "Chutes too Narrow"
8. Wilco, "A Ghost is Born"
7. U2, "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb"
6. Jamie Cullum, "twentysomething"
5. Garden State Soundtrack
4. Toby Lightman, "Little Things"
3. Franz Ferdinand, "Franz Ferdinand"
2. Jem, "Finally Woken"
1. The Postal Service, "Give Up"
Honorable Mentions (mostly because I don't actually own them yet, which isn't entirely fair because some of the top 10 I don't own either, but sssshhhh, don't tell anyone that I may have downloaded some of the songs): The Killers, "Hot Fuss", Diana Krall, "The Girl in the Other Room," Keane, "Hopes and Fears," Elliot Smith, "from a basement on the hill," Rufus Wainwright, "Want Two," Norah Jones, "Feels Like Home."
Any disagreements to this list should not be directed to me. They should be held internally until you change your crappy taste in music and see the light. Then we can talk. Kisses. XOXOXO
1:03 PM
Saturday, December 18, 2004 Messing with the flavor oh the flavor that you savor, saving me for last but you better not eat me at all....Having fondue for a dinner party is a good idea for the simple reason that, the following day, you have scores of bread and cheese leftover to help quell the hangover. Especially when there 7 1/2 bottles of wine down. Actually 5 1/2 bottles of wine and 2 bottles of champagne. Although the drawback of fondue being that if you leave the scene in a hurry without properly cleaning or soaking, you'll wake up the next morning to a pot of solid chocolate (with the spoon securely locked into place), and congealed cheese on everything that you'll need boiling water to remove. And you'll definitely be throwing away the entire scrubby brush when you're done too.
My roommate and I have been periodically laughing throughout the morning about randomness from last night: calling our wooden spatula a "spanker", our crazy crazy neighbor who wanted us to "come up to his apartment" after we got home from the bar, the nice people at Woodruff's getting a little too much of an earfull with loud drunk girls with some pretty offensive language, and leaving people voice mail messages inquiring about the sexual orientation of another individual (I would die to hear that message by the way).
Last night was such a blast. I forgot how much fun Friday night dinners are. All of the usual suspects were in attendance (Pnut, Brian, Deb, Mike) and two new victims (two Stephanies). When we used to live in the red house, we used to have "sharing time" where everyone would go around the table and say what they did that day (both mine and my roommate's included locking ourselves out of the apartment). So we all went around the table, in a fun little sharing time that ended up taking probably close to an hour. Because we would all get a little rowdy and get incredibly off track. But I loved hearing about everyone's great days. I would highly recommend it for your next party.
The entire group mosied to Woodruff's for a drink after dinner -- like we needed anymore. But I guess when you run out of wine, you don't have much of a choice. We met up with Amy and my favorite teachers and Suzy. Where things got a little nutso. And just in case you're curious, you can pretty much get me to tell you anything if I've been drinking. Any little secret? Just pump me full of wine, and out it comes! Like who I chose for my secret santa. I pride myself on not telling anyone that dammit! Why just blab? Oh yeah, it was the wine. Hopefully a good time was had by all -- I know that I definitely did.
And I'll leave you with the story that I concluded my sharing time with, just to prove what a remarkable dumbass I am:
Yesterday I had to run down to work for a meeting. And the shoes I wear to work are always incredibly loud on the tile hospital floors. You can usually hear me coming from a couple hallways away. And on a pretty regular basis, people will comment how noisy my shoes are. So yesterday, I was in a huge hurry because I was running late, so the heels pounding were especially loud. To get to our lab, you have to go through the radiology waiting area. So I had gone through once and there was one guy waiting there. So when I was going to leave, I had to make another pass through. And the same guy was waiting there. So when I went by the second time, he said, "Is that you making all that noise?" My response? "I definitely can't pull a sneak attack in these shoes." As soon as it was out of my mouth I instantly thought, "Who the fuck says that to a veteran??!!" If there is only one demographic of people that would be offended by such an innocuous comment, it would probably be a veteran. And of course I'm the dumbass who said it. Way to go Lisa. Way. To. Go.
1:47 PM
Friday, December 17, 2004 It's the most wonderful time of the year....Yesterday couldn't have turned out any better than if I had actually willed it to happen the way it did. And I think it's fair to say, I'm completely smitten.
He's been mentioned here before: eye candy in my department, hair that I'm crazy about (more about that in a sec), Orlando Bloom's long lost twin (more on that in a second), having a fun crush, assuming I'd never actually have a conversation with him? Yup that's the one.
Yesterday we had our department holiday potluck. Which in and of itself would have made it one of my favorite days of the year. And it's always a popular event where there's never enough room in the lounge where we have it to seat everyone. So Orlando showed up late and they were pulling in more chairs trying to find extra space to put them. So from across the room, our administrator yells, "Lisa, is there some extra room next to you?" If not, I was about a fraction of a second away from offering up my lap. So Orlando sat throughout all of lunch and chatted with me and my other two co-workers. Did I mention smitten? If he looked good from far away, now after talking to him he looks even better. I had to blame my slightly trembling hands on the air conditioning. He's incredibly friendly and personable (but not in an ADD kind of way), and I swear that it was everything I could do to not lean over and run my fingers through his hair. It's the kind of curly that separates into thick locks. Yummy. We joked about middle names (me strategically withholding my nickname that combines my middle name with fruit), getting along with our co-workers, getting the mean cashier lady fired. We were one of the last few people to leave the lunch well after 1pm.
After recounting this story to my roommate last night, she freaked when she found out that he looks exactly like Orlando Bloom, due to some massive obsession with him. And equally with Lord of the Rings movies. So she told me that I had to hook her up with a brother or something. Which, considering that he has a twin brother, works out well. She freaked out even more when I told her that. But I swear I'm not over-imagining our comfortable, happy future together. It was just a damn fine way to spend a Thursday afternoon.
On that note, my roommate and I are hosting a Friday night dinner tonight in honor of Parini's return to MI. So I should probably get-a-cleanin'. Those dustbunnies under the table aren't going to hop their own little asses over to the garbage can. Have a lovely Friday night. XOXOXOXOXOXOX
8:34 AM
Wednesday, December 15, 2004 I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out....I spent an hour and a half this morning in the bathtub contemplating some of my immediate moves for the next couple months, (note: I've become obsessed with taking baths lately. It provides me with the feeling of "doing something," even something a little special for myself. Something different than not getting out of bed or not getting off the couch. Somehow, not getting out of the bathtub feels more productive. Especially if one is contemplating life or coming up with wonderful phrases that will eventually find their way into a story sooner or later. I would share these wonderful phrases with you, but I should probably copyright them first). And yes, I take baths in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Which figured into part of my action plan. Because if I have enough time in the middle of the day to be lounging in freakishly hot water, then certainly I have time to be doing something else that doesn't have the illusion of being productive, but in fact actually is.
Immediate prospects: get another job. I'm considering leaving my job all together. You heard it here first. Not that I'm unhappy, but it's 100% (maybe 90%) for financial reasons. And I now know that I will not be able to function on my salary for the next year and a half (my yearly pay increases are about half that of inflation). It's a fact that I've been in denial about for the past year or so, but now that both of my credit cards are maxed out and my checking account has been overdrawn more in the last 2 months than I'd care to mention, it's drastic measures time. My stupid main reason for not leaving my job is the perk of having my tuition for school paid for. But there are a few alternatives to this:
1. Find a job that pays enough to cover those costs. And hopefully enough more to not put me into the exact situation I'm in now. 2. Find another job that still covers tuition but pays more.
The obvious problem with both of these, is that I don't have my degree yet to make me a more marketable candidate and push me into another salary bracket. Although if you knew how much I got paid, it seems impossible to go any lower, short of licking the floor clean at Church's chicken for pennies. So there's the next option:
1. Finding a part time job that doesn't involve folding shirts, smiling, trays, or anything nasty enough to require me to wear gloves while performing. Ideally flexible hours, and preferably related to my future degree.
So while soaking in Pear Glace scented bubbles, I had a brilliant idea. Since I was meeting with my professor to pick up my quiz, I could ask him if they were looking for any part time help. This satisfies all above said requirements. And the professor has always been very complimentary to my prowess, if it's possible to associate that word with math. Problem solved! I was mentally rearranging my current work schedule to facilitate my new job. I was thinking about being able to do statistics stuff all day long. I was decorating my new desk. So I sat there psyching myself out and plotting out exactly what I would say and how to best inflect my voice to make it sound casual and unrehearsed.
So what did I do when I went to go see him? Took my quiz, thanked him politely, and left. Maybe I was deterred by the fact that there was no extra chair in his office for me to sit down and have a chat. Maybe my brain was going wild with processing the leaning piles of crap that occupied every available space of shelf and floor. Maybe internally, there's something wrong with this brilliant plan. Maybe I'm still just a big fat friggin' wimp when it comes to job hunting and marketing myself in any way. Maybe there are still deep seeded traumatic issues that I've buried from my previous job-seekeing experience that perhaps still need to be dealt with. And here all along, I've been so sure I've matured into the best interview candidate ever! (I could make witty jokes! Be so well-spoken! Smile with the perfected look-and-nod of respectful understanding of my interviewer!).
But this isn't over yet. The situation is too dire for me to be a be overcome by intangible, inexplicable reasons. Maybe it's a cue to best articulate myself through everyone's favorite medium of email. In the meantime, it's time to start tweakin' up the resume kids, because Lisa's on the dismal hunt once again.
3:52 PM
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Update: I'm now in constant full body shivers. In spite of wearing everything wool that I own, gloves, scarf wrapped around my head, and a pot of hot coffee consumed (I assure you the full body shivers are not related to the influx of caffeine), which looked like I was drinking cups of fire because of the temperature differential between the air and my beverage. Plus, I was supposed to be at work 20 minutes ago, but I'm chillin' (no pun intended) with the furnace repair guy who has been working for close to an hour with no change in furnace status. When I called my co-worker to give her the update, I actually used the phrase, "I'm so fucking cold," and I do not ever swear around my co-workers, but I'll just have to blame it on the shivers. Have I ever actually desperately wanted to be at work for the simple fact of blissful, warm heat? Maybe if I just lean over my computer, I can absorb some of the little waves coming out of the back. Or rest my hands on the underside to absorb waaarrrmmmth.
1:18 PM
I'm so chill, no wonder it's freezing....Well, it wouldn't be a frigid winter if the heat in our apartment actually worked. I wouldn't appreciate the modern marvels of heating and cooling technology until all I hear is the useless whirring of a furnace that just can't kick itself on. And I made the mistake of being out from underneath the covers in my bed long enough for any heat that I had been squandering and carefully saving overnight to flee and rejoin the rest of the frosty air. I think an invention I'm going to start working on patenting is a nose warmer. The intuition of gloves. The brilliance of earmuffs. So why is it that my nose is not given the same kind of loving, I-want-to-keep-you-warm attention? Because that's really the only part of me that's significantly cold right now. I'm weighing the option of wrapping a scarf around my head, but I haven't figured out the whole breathing thing yet. An obstacle that the nose warmer would surely address. Note: current apartment thermostat reading: 51 degrees. Insert expletive here!
Tuesday weekend recap: word of the weekend? Low key. Or lowkey. There. Lots of pretending to study for exams that are this evening. Lots of getting sucked into America's Next Top Model marathons. Babysitting nieces and nephews. Attending a get together with a friend to watch the Lions lose in classic last-half-of-the-4th-quarter style. Other than that, it was actually really nice to sleep and be very relaxed.
Well, back to that studying for exams thing. I don't know if I've ever been more sick of being in school than I am lately. It will probably be compounding itself with each passing semester. Ugh. Alright. Have a warm and toasty day!
9:01 AM
Saturday, December 11, 2004 Do you dream about music or mathematics or planets too far for the eye....Now I know that work dreams suck because they remind you that you spend too much time executing tasks that you don't particularly enjoy. And by manifesting themselves in your subconcious and reappearing when you're supposed to be dreaming about sexual fantasies or flying over beaches while eating ice cream sundaes with warm carmel sauce on top, you can realize that there are too many little neurons being occupied by what you do at your job. But what do you suppose dreaming about writing your blog means? I'd be willing to bet that in those "what does it all mean?" dream dictionaries, that there wouldn't be any entry for "writing blog" that would indicate what the innards of my mind were really trying to tell me. I'm open for suggestions.
I even remember what I was trying to write in my blog, and it's this: Ladies and gentlemen. After much prodding. Bothering. Hassling. Pestering. Harassing. Threatening to withhold compliments about hot bods. Chris has finally succumbed to the allure of the blog and started his own!! Finally, after all these years (years I've been doing this? geesh), someone I know has actually decided to start writing about themselves and allowing me to manically check in on each and every detail of their own lives. Bitchin'. You'll soon see Chris, how censoring yourself will come into play. Unless you have bigger balls than I do....oh wait. In the meantime, Chris's blog will be added to the "Worthwhile Reading" section, and because apparently this was important enough for me to dream about it, I'll even put him at the top.
Thursday, December 09, 2004 Don't feel sorry for me....Much to my surprise on the MSN homepage today was an article staring me straight in the face that may as well have been written directly to me, as it has been an issue PLAUGING my mind for the last week. Young Americans are drowning in debt. Not that I'm losing sleep over the financial well-being of the 20-somethings of America, but because I'm so staunchly in that category, I would be tempted to hyphenate my name with it. It's easy to sometimes think that I'm the only person in the world with problems and sometimes I can allay my mental freak-out status with the argument that "it could be worse." But today was the day that I responded to my own bolstering with a, "not by much."
It's sad that so many people I know that graduated around the same time I did have the same financial woes. That in the interims between graduation and jobs or even in college we'll resort to the dreaded credit card. Not to be spend-happy, but for stuff like, oh, gas, groceries (they've coined a phrase for that now, it's called survival debt). And it always comes down to "what other choice do I have?" Which is another question that has been pestering me lately. What else could I help but do? I've worked my entire life since I was legally able to do so. I have never once asked my parents for money. I have an excellent edjamacation. I am gainfully employed, thankfully. I lived at home for 2 years. I share a moderately priced apartment with a friend. But even then it's all not enough. Even just for basics (although the cable and internet are going to be the next to go). Eternally frustrating.
And I know that it's all just temporary, but it sucks when you know that you're doing such damage that will take years to repair. And it's come to the point once again where I'm weighing the decision of taking the dreaded second job. Which, with my hours boils down to two painfully, a-little-vomit-in-mouth-thinking-about-them options: retail or waitressing. And somehow, there's always a little bit of stubborn pride that makes me put off doing either. But there's that damn question again, what other choice do I have?
And just to let you know that I've written this twice and deleted it twice, mainly because I don't like talking about this stuff. I hate discussing financial anythingness. And I also hate feeling-sorry-for-Lisaness too. So don't do it, or you'll probably just incur my wrath. I am stubborn to the core, and a pity party on my account will make me blush with angered shame which will cause me to not speak to you, screen your phonecalls, and grind my teeth with memories of embarassing abashment whenever I hear your name spoken in casual conversation. Got it? Sometimes a girl just needs to vent, and that's what this is for in the first place right?
Well, time to get back to work and eating my oatmeal. Have a pleasant evening.
7:38 PM
Wednesday, December 08, 2004 Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna give it back to you....My happy highlights from the Grammy noms:
~ Did I not tell you that Ryan Adams's version of Wonderwall was so incredibly beautiful? Well, I'm glad that the voters agreed enough to nominate it for Best Solo Rock Vocal Performance.
~ Kudos to Franz Ferdinand too. It's never the big categories that I'm interested in but always the random rock ones.
~ A big round for David Sedaris and the noms for spoken word album and comedy album.
~ Kudos also to the recognition of The Killers. I knew they were on the radar, but I didn't realize that people would like them so much.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004 The disappointment of success hangs from your shoulders like a handed-down dress....And so tack another semester on to my estimated date of graduation. I just got the big nix from my advisor about doing my thesis project next semester, citing that there are still too many classes that I need to take (5). So it will have to be done at the end. Although I'm kind of disgruntled about it (mostly about having to stay at my job for an additional 3-4 months), there are certain options that I now have for this winter.
1. I have the option of taking a random elective next semester. I don't need anymore for my degree program, but free tuition is part of my benefits package, so why not? Although I have a suspicion that it will somehow have to be related to my job in a vague, approved-by-a-higher-up kind of way. So even though it's tempting to peruse classes like Polish, Chicano-Boricua studies, Forensic Toxicology, or Opera Workshop, I would probably end up being limited to classes with alluring titles like, "Health Promotion," or "Health Care Finance." I know my eyes are all agog with excitement...
2. There is the overwhelming urge to take a class in the Business or Law programs for the higher probability for eye candy. But in the end, I am going to have to do work right?
3. And then the best option. Maybe this semester is a gift. Perhaps I should be taking this semester of a lesser workload to focus on other things. Like things I keep saying I'm going to do but don't because of my hectic schedule. Namely, actually finish things that I start writing (currently have multiple different things in varying stages of completion). Maybe if I approach it like an actual class and find some discipline for myself, I could get something done. And you could be my teacher! You could hold me responsible for finishing. You could be my reviewer. My editor if you will. You could set deadlines and submission dates for me. You could give me topics to write about. OOoo!! This does actually sound like fun!
10:17 AM
Monday, December 06, 2004 All I know, is everything is not as it seems....A traumatic way to wake up on a Monday morning: 10 minutes before your scheduled Monday morning meeting at 8am.
It only took 20 seconds to say the word "fuck" well into the double digits.It took another 5 to start rotating "fuck" with "Goddammit."
Fortunately though, it only took approximately 7.5 minutes for me to recover my head that I seemed to have been running around without.
It took roughly 50 seconds and one trip past the mirror to realize that it would be a helpless day of looking like ass.
It took 9 minutes to realize that the extra 4 minutes for coffee would be totally worth it.
It took 5 minutes into my drive to realize that my happy lunch was still neatly wrapped and waiting for me in the refrigerator at home.
It took 6 minutes into my drive to realize that I have some serious skills at curling eyelashes and steering with my knees. While not spilling my coffee.
It took about 2 full hours to get my head out of my ass and figure out what the hell I was supposed to actually be doing on Monday morning. Other than complaining about being late.
10:39 PM
Sunday, December 05, 2004 We'll both forget the breeze, most of the time....The best drive home from Rochester ever? The cutie in the Jetta next to me with a giant reindeer suit head on his passenger seat? The white fluffy snow on the tractor trailer in front of me flying all over Rochester Road? The hay from the manger float in front of him littering the side of the street? How can you not at least chuckle at that?
If you didn't guess, they had the Christmas parade in downtown Rochester today, and today I learned that the temperature can drop 20 degrees just by the sun disappearing behind the clouds. At the beginning, I was rethinking my choice of gloves, scarf, and double-layered clothes, considering that I was actually too toasty to wear it all. By the end, I was rethinking my choice of gloves, scarf, and double-layered clothes, thinking that I should have opted for wool socks, the poofy down jacket, and any other amount of clothing that would have stopped the convulsive shivers that were racking my body. My nephew was on a float for his cub scout pack, (of course he was one of the very last of the over two hour long parade), and he was so damn cute, I would have stood out in the cold for two hours longer to see him smile and wave as damn cute as he did.
Yesterday kicked off the winter to do list with my sisters. The four of us spent the afternoon together having lunch and then partaking in arts and crafts time. You can stop laughing now because, yes, it was on our to do list. Amy and I diligently worked on our scrapbooks (which is coming along delightfully I must say), and Suzy and Laura impressively continued with the future conquoring of the stained glass art circuit. Some seriously impressive stuff. The afternoon was made complete by the warm fuzzies of blue hot chocolate, and the soft hum of Christmas songs in the background. Which was usually drowned out by us making our own creative alterations to the songs or laughing at ourselves for our creative alterations to the songs. A perfect afternoon, I must say.
Last night I was reminded that in spite of missing friends that have been there for me in the past, I've been very fortunate to have come across some great girls that cheer me up on a regular basis. I like seeing people wipe away tears because they're laughing so hard. Kelly, Shelly and I had a girl's night (sans naked pillowfight. Sorry to disappoint) where, even though we had When Harry Met Sally on, we didn't make it through half, because we kept stopping to look at pictures, refill drinks, make fun of Britney's skanky ass in People, and talk. I had a great great time ladies, and thanks again Kel. You are the best reassurance a girl could ask for.
Friday night was my swanky work holiday party at The Rattlesnake Club. And I have to say that it was certainly a test of confidence and self-assurance. Because I was flying solo and the three people that I know very well were the very last three people in the door (all over an hour late), I had to sit at the table by myself with four other people I didn't know and think, "I'm ok with this. I can sit here and be perfectly comfortable and content with my own company." Once they were there and the drinks started flowing, our table was definitely the most fun. It may have had something to do with the fact that 3 of the women at my table were drinking mulitple Hypnotic and Henneseys on the rocks. No, I was not one of these women, thank you. I stuck to my red wine. I had a really good time, in a formal, square, swanky-pants, hangin-with-people-I-don't-know kinda way.
Well, if this weekend was any indication of the rest of my December, then I'm going to be moving at breakneck speed for 101 different activities and get-togethers. I'll do be best to keep up and not end up a piece of discarded float, snow-fluff on the side of the road.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004 So take your troublesome baggage, and put it on the last train home, cos you can guess somewhere else in the world right now, someone else feels just as alone....Three whole posts in one day? Does this mean I get the rest of the week off? This one will be depressing enough to offset any chuckle you got (or I got while writing) from the other two.
I have let two very important friendships to me slide away by the wayside. Actually I've let 12 fall away lately (ya think I'm kiddin'? Just ask me for a list), but two of them in particular, I find myself near tears with missing right now. Maybe it's because I was re-reading old blogs and remembering how much I love these girls. But mostly it was because I was remembering one of the things that I treasured the absolute most in them. They never ever ever would judge me for things that I told them.
To me, this is probably the most important thing that I value in my friendships. Because if I every get the vibe that people judge me for things that I tell them, then you'll pretty much be cut off from me telling you heart-wrenching things that cloud up my mind. It fucking freaks me out to share serious stuff with people, and part of the reason I don't is fear of being judged. Just terrifies me. Of course that's why I'm so censored here, and sadly, I'm just as censored with myself on a regular basis with pretty much everyone.
But I never was with these two girls. There was absolutely nothing that they didn't know about me. Which is pretty huge considering that I have a couple monster secrets that only countable numbers of people know. But I was never ever afraid to tell them anything, because I knew in my heart of hearts that all that I would ever receive from them was complete unconditional support and the best advice a girl could ask for. And good Lord did they help me out in the past.
And maybe I'm realizing how much I miss them now because I've spent too long internalizing things. Maybe I just miss not having that ebbing fear in my periphery that judgements are being made against me whenever I open my big fat mouth. Maybe I just wish I was a little less guarded sometimes. But I think I just miss them altogether.
9:17 PM
She works hard for the money....At work, we advertise for volunteer research subjects in a variety of different newspapers. And there are also online websites that you can pay for to get a whole list of research studies you can participate in for money. We never actually solicited to these websites, but they likely saw one of our ads and added us to their database. We usually ask people how they found out about us when they call. So one of the new websites we're being featured on? "safe sex for money.com" Sweet. So what exactly does that make my job title? Can I officially add "mistress" to my name? And what was this guy really looking for when he ended up calling us??
And finally a service for my cell phone that I'll actually use. Finally I can no longer be responsible for errors I make while drinking! Technology will do it for me! Now if only my cell phone will ensure that I don't drink half the bar in one night, then I'll be allllll set.
Mistress L.A., signing off.
3:25 PM
And she's sweet, so discreet, she's exactly what I need, not even make-believe, she's not so usual....So you know in the beginning of Amelie where they're describing Amelie, her parents, and her friends based on their likes and dislikes (skipping stones, cracking creme brulee, clinging swim trunks, etc.)? Well, I think that something I would have to include as my likes are new bottles of honey, ("Lisa aime les boteilles nouveaux du miel"). Before the lid gets all crusty and you can't open the cap and it all crystalizes at the bottom so that you have to bang it on the counter to get out a little dribble. The next time you go on a tea binge, I highly recommend splurging for the new bottle of honey.
Why Julia Roberts may eventually regret the name Phinneaus for her son:
Every person who takes any number of psychology classes, particularly biopsych, will have a certain number of hallmark scientific studies drilled into their brain (no pun intended). Like the ones where they severed people's corpus callosum and the two sides of their brain started working seperately? Or infamous H.M., the best documented study of anterograde amnesia? And then there was good old Phineas Gage. The railroad worker in the mid-1800's, who in a freak explosion, had a railroad spike go in under his chin, through his skull and brain and landing some 25-30 yards behind him. He recovered and ended up living for many years afterwards, except he became incredibly anti-social and violent. Leading researchers to believe that your frontal lobe contains the areas of your brain responsible for personality and rational thought, (which turns out to be pretty true). (Note: they actually have the iron stake and his skull in a museum at Harvard. Dorks). So if my son was named Phinneaus, I would probably try to steer him away from a career in ironworking and probably start lifting my feet everytime I went over railroad tracks.
