Hand Me That Hootenanny

Romeo and Juliet

2009-10-13T14:25:00.000-07:00

Caps and Monties: [Fight]
Caps: We hate you!
Monties: We hate you!

Paris: I wanna marry Jules.
Daddy Cap: I'll think about it.

Caps: Let's have a ball.

Benny: You should go to the ball to find Rosie.
Rome: I should go to the ball to find Rosie.

Rome: Great ball. I'm in love.
Jules: I'm in love too/thirteen yrs old.

Jules: Why you gotta be a Monty?
Rome: Let's get married.
Jules: Ok.

Friar L: Do you?
Rome: I do.
Friar L: Do you?
Jules: I do.

Tybby: Let's duel.
Rome: No, we're family.
Merc: I'll fight you.
Rome: No, Merc!
Merc: [dies]
Tybby: [dies]
Rome: Noooooooooooooo!

Prince: Rome is banished.

Daddy Cap: You're marrying Paris.
Jules: No!!!

Rome and Jules: [squeeky squeeky]

Jules: Help.
Friar L: This'll zonk you out for a while.
Jules: Glug.

Caps: She's dead!

Rome: She's dead!
Apothecary: Here's poison.
Rome: Glug.

Jules: [yawn] No!!! [stab/die]

Caps and Monties: They're dead. [tear]
Friar L: Look what you did.
All: We're all in this together, and it shows when we stand, hand in hand. Make our dreams come true....

Moving

2009-08-31T12:38:00.000-07:00

I would say that this move has been an emotional rollercoaster, but it's more like an emotional log ride. At first it's exciting to get in the log and you have that "here we go!" feeling. Then as you get closer and closer to the big drop, you feel a mixture of excitement and fear. At the top of the drop, you're like, "holy shit, it's steeper than I thought!" Then you drop. It's a little surreal and rather unsettling as you are blasted in the face with water. At the bottom, you are left feeling jolted and soaking. The only part of this metaphor that doesn't translate to the move is the part where, reflecting on the entire process and particularly the climax of the ride, you say, "Let's do that again!"

No thanks.

My Xmas presents from Ben's family

2009-07-15T22:27:00.000-07:00

It's a strange sight to see two people in the dark of late evening, each wearing a backpack and carrying two boxes, one with a tiny dog on a leash, walking slowly through an alley on the way to their apartment from the closest parking spot they could get. And this is the sight Charlie, or so we call the guy who digs through the dumpster behind Agate Alley Bistro every few days, saw as we struggled to get the Christmas presents home for a grand opening.

"Christmas presents?" you ask, because you're humoring me even though you know the whole story already. "But it's July." And indeed it is. July 2009, not December 2005 when I originally received these presents from my good friend Ben and his very sweet and maniacally Christmas-present-frenzied family. Gather round, children, and I will tell you the story.

I was in New York with Ben's family for Christmas, they threw several hundred pounds of Christmas presents at me and each other, we all collapsed from exhaustion, I had too many presents to take home so I left them there, Ben said he would send them, Ben said he would send them, Ben said he would send them, Ben said he would send them, Ben said he would send them, and then Ben sent them.

Phew.

Anywho, zap back to July 2009 and here we are, John and I, opening the boxes with apprehension and excitement, just like on Christmas morning. I found the following items in the boxes:

a TON of newspaper to pad my precious gifts
a travel bag with a million compartments
a brown leather purse
a candle
another candle
a tiny holiday candle
a scrub and body butter gift set
a set of three suede journals with matching pencil
brown leather journal
brown leather notebook
black leather address book
picture album
stationary envelopes
Mickey Mouse pen with magnetized flying Mickey action figure attached
tin of sour apple Altoids chewing gum
Macbeth eraser
Apples to Apples
blue leather picture frame
Dr. Seuss characters book-ends
suction-cup robot that climbs walls
book from the 70s on behavior management for teachers
two-headed nickel
mini fm radio with earbuds
paper ray gun
ice cream cone popper
mini ice cream cone popper
squidgy rubber spiky ball
Kiss my Face mini bottle of shower gel
candy cane mini tissues package
squidgy rubber spiky ball with eyes
holiday washcloth
hot pink feather sparkly pen
lavender scent pouch
dreidel soap
pig jax
Henry VI pencil
Disneyland playing cards
Shakespeare emergency pancho
puppy notepad
jumping candy
Skittles Lipsmacker
Flipflop notepad
tiny Buzz Lightyear rolling action figure
slinky ring with beads on it
Shakespeare chocolate
tiny box creature with features (similar in concept to Mr. Potato Head)
Flippable stretchy spiky rubber head cap
A leather bookmark with a picture of Ben in it
various candies I had to throw away because they were really old

It was again an incredibly exciting and exhausting process. And now, as I look at the hurricane that is my living room, knowing I must find a place in my house for all these things, and dreading the daunting task of uncrumpling and smoothing out the seven full newspapers Ben used, I can't help but think, "How long till next Christmas?"

Summer School

2009-07-09T09:18:00.000-07:00

Summer school is gonna kill me.

Summer school - I'm gonna die.

Summer school makes me go crazy.

Summer school - I wonder why.

Busy busy busy busy work work work.

Can't seem to get ahead of the game.

I go I go berserk berserk berserk.

I'm learning a lot

Oh, wait. No I'm not.

Summer school - I want to stab it.

Summer school smells like a cow.

Summer school is tons of reading.

Summer school - please end now.

The Sound and the Fury of a 40 Hour Work Week

2009-06-16T19:44:00.000-07:00

I feel as though six weeks of full time work qualifies me as a professional on this topic. So here I am, at an insurance company (consortium, if you will, as I work for an insurance group that only deals in cities and counties) that is everything and nothing that I had hoped.

I work in an office, and not even the good and wacky kind, just the normal grey and cubicled kind. I don't even have my own cubicle, I work out of the office manager's room with a tiny window. There is no Jim to my Pam here, and that's a good thing as the only guys here are my father's age.

Sitting at my desk, nay, table I slave eight hours a day for minimum wage and no benefits. My computer is the oldest one in the place. I have two monitors, but one of them is stuck at 800x600 no matter how many times I try to reset it. Somehow I have grown to love it, I think it's the people. My office manager is all together a sweetheart and reminds me too much of my mother. The guy who trained me is grumbly, but mostly a softy.

I could live with office work. Will I? Probably for awhile, hopefully not forever. And that, as they say, is that. It wasn't terribly funny, or entertaining, but it's the life you've been missing out on Ava and the life I've been living while missing you.

Maybe next time I'll talk about my wacky $2 dream...

Possible themes

2009-05-30T09:30:00.000-07:00

Porcupines
Rockets
Explosions
Cool bugs
Poisonous frogs
Watermelon
Cryptography
Stupid Ava
Desert Lizards/(desert)Hamsters/Kangaroo Mouse
Meercats
Yogurt
Cheeseburgers
Computers
Robots
Robot dogs
Space
Stars/Suns/Supernovas (something warm in space)
Jupiter
Moons (both real and colloquial)
Honky conjoined twin Muppets from Sesame Street
Sarah Palin
Chunky Peanut butter
And that's the last one

(John had nothing to do with this list)

Secret messages

2009-05-24T15:02:00.000-07:00

Don't forget order of operations!

A2 B4 C34 D37 E45 F49 G61 H62 I76 J87 K89 L90 M93 N95 O98 P100 Q105 R123 S340 T344 U378 V400 W450 X500 Y501 Z1000

20*4+7 12*8+2 11*6-4 5*19 152/2 3400/10 96/12-6 32/8 3*100+78 3*100+4*11 4*100-56

2*250+1 (10^2)-2 4*10*10-2*11 34/17 11*11+2 5*9 5*2*2*5 2*4/4 1000-900 22/11+8-9+1 5*2*5*2*5+5-4 1+1 68-6 5*3*3 ((897+43)/5)/94 30+7

A Mosquito's Blog: Day 1

2009-05-24T13:47:00.001-07:00

Dude, I totally just officially became a mosquito! In your faces, pupae! From the moment my cephalothorax split I knew I'd be in for the ride of my life!

At first I was just like, "Yeah, rock on!" But then I realized I could, you know, DO shit. So I flew off and found a squirrel. He was fast but I totally nailed him. Blood city!

Then I found a human - the short kind. It swatted at me but I totally ducked out of its way and caught it on the back of its thorax. I could have stood there all day just smelling it. But of course I didn't. I drank like my uncle Eddie at a wedding. Now that's the good stuff. I took a little too much and then puked a little on a rock but it was so worth it.

Tomorrow I'm so gonna find one of the big humans. Ha ha, yeah, suck it!

Everything is grey (and yes making words British makes it more emo)

2009-05-12T06:51:00.000-07:00

It's raining
On my second day in Hillsboro
I'm leaving today.

It's early for me
I am making my brain prepare
I start work tomorrow.

This is only temporary
What will I do?
Next week is going to be a bitch.

My emo appears to have left me
Along with the wrinkles in my only white button-up
I hope I can see Ava sometime in the next year.

I die every minute of every day - an emo poem

2009-05-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

Please save me from the horrifying responsibilities of being a teacher.

I cannot live

In a world

Where lesson plans require bloom's taxonomy questions

And my ear

Is itchy

but can never be scratched.

Never.

Maybe a q-tip

Will solve all my problems.

Or maybe I'll die of ear drum damage

And never teach

Again.

Chapter four or nine or whatever. It doesn't really matter.

2008-12-20T23:17:00.000-08:00

The next morning I woke up with a headache. I could sense there was something wrong with Bob when I tumbled down the stairs and he didn't even look up. Ug! I was always doing that. I could be such a clutz and it was so embarrassing in that sort of way that could be cute to somebody maybe if they were into that kind of thing, but nobody would be and especially not because of me since I am really not an attractive person. I'm not unattractive, for the sake of argument and the fact that maybe other people think I might be pretty, but I am basically hideous.

I made myself a bowl of sugar-frosted jelly donut Os, which I munched with discontent. I hated cereal but ever since Bob had become Chief of the Fire Department, he hadn't had any time for grocery shopping.

"So, honey, any boys you like at that school of yours?" Bob had no class. I frowned, my blushing face becoming one with the down-turned corners of my mouth. Of course I had been thinking about Englebert a lot, but I wasn't about to tell Bob about it. I would rather have been run over by a truck, reincarnated as a spider, gotten squished and then set on fire than tell my father who I was into. Plus, he could be so dramatic sometimes.

"Um, not really," I replied halfheartedly. I could see in his eyes that he could see in my eyes that I was lying, but he gave it up. There's this unspoken rule that has been in my family for as long as I can remember: when someone lies, you just accept that they don't want to tell you the truth and you just need to drop it.

We were quiet for the rest of breakfast, and I silently got ready for school, where I also didn't talk to Bob, and then a little later after I got home he sat down at the table for dinner.

"I feel like I just talked to you," he chuckled, but there was a serious undertone to his voice. "I honestly don't know what you're referring to," I offered, but it was no use. He could see right through my cover. And in my family, when someone is giving a cover and the other person can tell, then they never let it go.

"What's eating you, Sweetie?" Sweetie? Great, more childish epithets. Exactly what I needed to grow up. "Nothing, Bo- I mean Dad." I shifted in my seat.

"I don't mean to pry, but I can't help but notice that you use adverbs when you're upset."

"When did I use an adverb?" I protested loudly.

"You said you 'honestly' didn't know what I was referring to."

Holy manatee! He had me. There was no denying it. I tried to ignore him by scooping out some green beans onto my plate. They were limp and soggy, much like the weather outside. Ug. Everything about Firth was soggy and limp. Except Englebert.

My thoughts drifted to the soft, velvety sound of his voice. I pictured his geisha-like face telling me that it was cool that I didn't wear make-up. Yeah right. I was so ugly without make-up but I didn't want to wear it because I'm such a tomboy, even though I don't play sports or do any other boyish things, that I wouldn't even know where to start.

Bob cleared his throat, bringing me out of my reverie. I realized I was bushing, so I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. Blush city. I thought about baseball, parakeets,

The Start of Something New

2008-12-20T19:01:00.000-08:00

Dusk or Twotlight

Chapter 1

"Ouch!" I yelled as I fell backwards into my laundry hamper. I had stubbed my toe on a tissue box that Bob had left in front of my door. I was always doing things like that. It was never my forte to be graceful. I had my father to thank for that.

As I regained my footing I knocked over my stereo and it suddenly exploded into a million pieces. "You alright up there?" Asked Bob. We weren't close.

It occurred to me that before this catastrophe I had been unpacking. Ever since I had gotten to Firth, Idaho (population 408), I had been feeling rather restless. I looked at my half-unpacked bag and sighed heavily. It was velvety but authoritative.

If I Could Create a Reality TV Show

2008-12-20T12:07:00.001-08:00

Tonight on "Teacher, teacher!" Can Monica handle the budget cuts that take away her educational assistants' hours? What happens when one child with emotional/behavioral disorder breaks down during math? This is one episode you don't want to miss.

[Monica crying] "I just don't understand how teachers do it all. I can't take this pressure! Waaaaaaaaaa."

You can bet that she'll never complain to her son's teacher again. Don't miss the all new episode of "Teacher, teacher!"

If I Could Make/Be On A Reality Show...

2008-12-20T04:59:00.000-08:00

This post is brought to you by my lack of contact with the real world this week.

I have two ideas here. First if I could be on any reality show, and I was seriously trying, I would most definitely want to be a contestant on one of those singing competitions. Not like American Idol, but more like the one where Diddy (or is he Puff Daddy again? I guess I would need to learn this before I competed) looks like he can't bother to critique all of the posers that bothered to try out and even though he chose these frickin' people he never finds anything good about them. How does that happen I ask you? How do you not realize that, damn, she is tone deaf? Anyway I think it would be awesome because as long as you don't mess up too badly you get to be another one hit wonder, which is at least something to put on a resume.

My idea for a reality tv show is, I think, probably going to get plagiarized as soon as I type it, but whatever, it will be documented here so I will get all the royalties. My show will be called So You Think You Can Read? and will be centered in a college or library (college library?). I haven't exactly worked all the details out yet. So what happens is average people who have been out of whatever schooling they did for at least 4-5 years compete to see if they can read. Mainly it would be things like Shakespeare or old English or some super-dense sciency papers. The ultimate goal is to be able to tell the rest of the world what that in fact, they now have the most useless skill alive. Also they will get a BA in English.

What's On My Mind

2008-12-20T04:52:00.001-08:00

The most current thought on my mind is why the ~~fuck~~ eff I'm continually getting up before the sun does. Maybe it's in a vain hope that I will actually be able to get out of the house today. I wanted to spend time with my parents but this Christmas with the snow and the ice and the back pain from slipping is not making me warm up to the idea of ever living with them.

Which leads to my other thoughts: moving. Oh dear god, I'm so afraid I will find something dead or long forgotten when I try and remove stuff from the apartment that I will have lived in for three years. Oh wait, did I once have a second cat? Really? Well damn, I guess my room ate and made me forget about it.

Mostly though I'm trying to decided whether I should confess that I already read Ava's entry. It's too late, or maybe early, to go back now however. I just wish it were a more appropriate hour to call...

What's On My Mind

2008-12-20T00:19:00.000-08:00

I have two really big things on my mind. One, of course, is how much I want a dog. The other is a wish that I want so badly to come true that I would give up having a dog, like ever, for it to come true. But it is impossible and I cried very hard today when I found out that it could have been true before it was too late. I refuse to put it up on the internet, however, so Lindsey is just going to have to call me to hear about it.

So that's it. That is the entirety of what is in my head right now. No Christmas or dessert or severe weather conditions or itch on my back. Just dog and sadness.