Stranger Danger

When I go on a cleaning rampage, I become much like a black hole. Anything I see that I have lost interest in, is crumpled, got holes, melted, grew bacteria, whatever--I load it into a bag for the almighty dumpster. I also rearrange the items that survive my destruction, because anything that passes through the other side of the black hole deserves prime real estate around my room.

I do this once in a while to things on my computer, email, etc. This week I was reunited with this blog and got all hot and bothered by my college level writing style. It was pretty surprising to me to see how eloquent I was back in college, how removed I was from feeling too much; well, I guess I didn't write about too many emotional things, but still.

Obviously, I had to try and reconnect myself with my blog self. I love that woman. While I plowed through files to Sind out what my username and password information is for the login to this blog, I started to think all the effort wasn't worth it. But then, everything came together, and I got very happy because.. I found data.

Blogger has data about my blog.

And apparently, I have a demographic. My readers prefer using Internet Explorer and read a lot about my Martin Luther King Jr post, which is one of my favorites (I'm a narcissist, yes).

I'm really glad I fought my way back to my blogosphere to say hello to my readers abroad :) a lot of you find me on Google, apparently, so I know you can Google Translate this:

Hello, and I hope you don't get hit too hard by my harsh letters.

New Glasses

8 years ago 12 guys from Saudi Arabia, funded by a rich Saudi living in Afghanistan launched a cowardly attack against the USA. In response George W. Bush attacked Iraq, held a party and claimed "Mission Accomplished", and pretty much gave ...up looking for Osama Bin Laden. That does not honor the memory of the victims of 9/11.

The incident of September 11th confuses me because of debates like this. In honoring the victims of 9/11, are we supposed to fight over whether or not the war in Iraq should have been fought, or do we honor them by constructing monuments or supporting families of those affected? I would vote that supporting families who were affected by the bombs would honor the memory of the victims because it influenced more than the thousands of people who died.

Remember how the whole country was fused together because we all had a mutual enemy? Hindsight may be 20/20, but I don't think we are quite at the point where we can see 20/20.

Ruttigers

Can't even imagine doing anything right now, even though I'm on day seven of my 30 day workout. I'm two "extra workouts"* behind, and I'm stuck in a rut. I don't want to get up and do the half hour "twenty minute" Jillian Michael's video that's on mute, just waiting for me to play the workout for level one. Excluding the workout I should be doing now, I have three left to do before I move on to level two. I just feel so tired right now, and I think it's because I didn't do anything today. Usually, I'm around the house either cleaning or doing laundry or tanning, but going to bed around two or three and waking up at 10 really messes up my day.

The good news--at least I ate well.. lots of fruits and veggies.


*I intended to do two workouts a day, so I alternate between choosing a balance ball and my DDR as the second half of my workout regiment.

Changing Things..

P.s.
I really want to get this: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXItUjgu_ib81xN0EW3K7jWK1SAuCSmNv1IsR9C-qnkYcAMnQJzCjp1Nrj4aAb4DZsl6KUCXRYmbVj4ljDNLAkvfnxfRALyZLWPJ6oXYM_rMzRm_u9iFlEgPgxEJrT-WglTh0jZYOYZrA/s400/Library+Souvenir+Spoons+9.jpg as a picture for my background.

How do you do that?

The New Markus in my Life

I'm not going to wait around all night until my disk cleanup and defragmenter are finished.. at some point, sleep must happen for me.

But I'm excited to apply for this job I found tonight. There is a position in Berkeley as an editor's assistant. Even though it's for children fiction, I am excited for the opportunity. The great thing about publishing houses is that it seems like every single one somehow tracks back to Random House, which is a company I've wanted to work at since I heard the name.

Because I am random and enjoy random things.

Like the banned TV ads I was just watching.. something about a mobster milk man. There was a 16 minute video to explain why a milk man joined the mafia in the first place, which is unnecessary because there's only two things that motivate men: food and sex so it's an easy puzzle.. but then I figured I would write the blog and see how many times I end up burning my fingertips because my computer is hot like lava, and I don't exactly have a "Backspace" key anymore.

Anyway, when you get a chance.. forget that, whether or not you get a chance, you need to read The Book Thief because it is brilliantly poetic, lyrical, and straightforward. Markus Zusak is a brilliant author and I am excited to read more of his work.

Stream of Consciousness

It's funny how my brain works.

As I was doing some facial maintenance, sitting on my mom's sink in her bathroom (where the lighting is best), I started thinking about a friend I had in high school who moved to Vegas and how I think I missed her birthday.

Maybe I should send her a card. No, then it'll be post-marked August 28th, and I think her birthday was a week ago. I'm not a very good friend to her.

Then I remembered my last trip to Vegas, when I went with my friend to celebrate graduating, my birthday, and a myriad of other festivities. I'm not one to combine celebrations because I like to get together with people and toast the close of an activity that is separate from an annual occurence (which is why I must marry someone whose birthday is not in April. That's my month, damnit!), but it was great to go to Vegas and really experience that mess. It's a hot mess.

Then I thought about the guy I first kiss while I was in Vegas; I enjoy the irony of something like a 22-year old having her first kiss happening in Sin City. But after I remembered Marcus and his pillow-like lips, I made the connection between my not complete nonchalonce, but complete inactivity in finding a boyfriend with that kiss and my activity on Match.com.

I've talked with a number of guys, which is awesome because I'm putting myself out there like I wanted. The first guy I was interested in--Jeremy--ended up wanting to be Rapunzel. He didn't care if he ended up as the Disney version or the Grimm Brothers' version, blindly wandering the desert with twins, either.

Then there was Ben, the most boring and consistent guy ever. I liked that he would text me every day, but not that he would give me the inquisition about what I was doing that day. There's only so many ways I can say "I'm forcing a spring cleaning on my mom's unsuspecting house."

Gabe followed quickly thereafter. He was entirely fun--a paramedic who would tell me about the signs of death, procedures for getting people out of a car, and had a heart for the people he picked up on the stretcher. One story he told me was of a guy with Alzheimers, and he would check up on him in the hospital when he dropped a new patient off. Gabe was also very confusing to me because after a month of talking and failed attempts at meeting, he just stopped.

After Gabe was Dominic, the guy who said he was 24 on his profile, told me he was 27, and looked like he was 35. THe point of connection I enjoyed was that he didn't want kids, either, even if he couldn't exactly explain why not. After meeting him at the Irvine Spectrum, I was estatic that I was also talking to another guy who was available to meet me that day before my meeting with Dominic.

It was a disasterous meeting--I tried every avenue of conversation and all he did was look around at walls and keep a comfortable 4-foot distance between his self and me. I didn't mind too awfully, bit given that I had driven to the OC specifically to meet him, I wanted more of an effort where the conversation was concerned. It was fun telling him thanks but he should have a good night after walking down the tree-lined aisle by the parking structure in silence while he thought about how he could make the walk around the Spectrum even more awkward, while I could only scream with gratitude in my head for Kevin.

Kevin is very flexible and seems to have all the time in the world, even though he works at Outback and is getting his teaching credentials to teach high school history. When I found out that Dominic had to work late and wouldn't be able to meet me at 3, I asked Kevin if he was doing anything that would keep him from being interested in getting coffee with me. I felt bad because the day before, we had established that neither of us were looking for anything serious, so I thought I was pushing too hard.. but we had a great time at Kean, talking about school, movies, books, and room mates (among other things). He's a little inconsistent in terms of communication, but it doesn't matter because my first date was with someone who wasn't judging me on my appearance--and if he was, he didn't let it get in the way of a good conversation.

While I am still in touch with Kevin from time to time, I'm also talking with a firefighter named Diego. He reminds me of Gabe, so I am being cautious, but it's been fun talking with Diego, the guy who is more prone to calling me than texting, and always says goodnight before he goes off to sleep, even when he's on a job.

And now, it's 11:00 and I need to put some ABC JuicyFruit in the backyard to kill the gofers out there. I suppose I could wait and do it with my mom tomorrow.. I'll have to contemplate while I finish my facial maintenance right now.

Common, Snake Eyes!

I love fonts.

I know that Times New Romans is the default font for virtually every professional document, but I really like this one, Palino Linotype. It's so much cleaner looking, very bold, and modern.

The other reason I like it, the reason that may have pushed my "like" to "love", is that I changed the font of a story I've been working on and my page count went from 37 to 44.

Fuck. Yes.

Normally, I wouldn't turn it in like that and would stick with TNR because that's just how shit goes down. However, my prof has been such a jackass to me. See below for proof, if you're interested.

Would you be highly or moderately opposed to my turning in Bailey's story by Sunday since that was supposedly the days I emailed you pages?

I just want to know before Friday rolls around :)

~S

Prof:
I am leaving town either this afternoon or tomorrow morning, and the only way to change your grade, given that it was essentially an incomplete carried over from the fall, is to physically do so in the registrar's office. So, you can turn in your pages by Sunday, but I won't be able to change your grade until September . . .

Me:
We should have talked about the turn-in date.

September is too late to have my grade changed since they configure GPA's and transcripts and such to have our diplomas printed and ready to pick up by June or July.

I am a little flustered about how this is panning out, grade-wise because it will probably have a bearing on whether or not I receive honors on my diploma (the little stars they throw on there), given that I wasn't aware than an "incomplete" translates to a "C" grade.

Do you think the Registrar's office will amend my grade with an email from you, rather than an actual form handed to them? In the past, they have accepted a professor's email versus the paper version to complete an add/drop form, but I am just anxious to seek out another option.

Prof:
The turn-in date? It's the end of the semester, end of finals week, and the pages were actually due at the end of last semester . . . Unless I'm reading this wrong, it sounds like you're laying the blame for this one me . . . Also, an incomplete grade can translate into whatever the professor deems appropriate. I could've easily told them it should translate into a D or an F, but I thought I'd give you a break . . . I will check with the registrar's office today, but, in the meantime, please get your pages done, because this is taking way too long to complete itself.

Me:
Sorry, Professor, I did not mean for my response to lay blame on you. I simply want to know if there is a way we can get my final grade to the Registrar's office before they process my diploma.

I am also sorry my frustration with my pages is frustrating you, as well. I am working to get pages to you as best as I can.

Prof:
Okay. Here's what I can do for you. If you send me your pages tomorrow, I will send Dawn an e-mail specifying your grade change, and she will fill out the form and take it to the registrar's office on Monday, with my e-mail serving as my signature. I want to encourage you, though, to get these pages to me asap because Dawn needs to do this on Monday, so that we can get everything in order. Will this work for you? Thanks.

Me:
Yes. I will email you pages by tomorrow.

By what time, just so I'm clear?

I appreciate your help a lot.

This professor has been a constant pain in my ass this semester. We get along better as people, not student-teacher. He's too fucking sensitive! I mean, really.

Sorry, I wanted to talk about how excited I am to have 44 pages out of the 50 I need, and instead I'm ranting about someone whose sensitivity is a thorn in my side.

Anyway, back to writing! I may have 44 pages, but I need 50. Yeaaaaa