I've never been one for puns unless they were Shakespearean or some other literary witticism. However, I must say that I have developed a new found use for them...two actually.
I start each session at work with a pun. The session's agenda is posted, and at the top I place a pun. They are frequently groaners, but I enjoy them anyway and they get the people I work with to think. Some of them even laugh at them. For example, today I had "A horse is a very stable animal." Go ahead. Groan. I'll wait.
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It's a great way to break the ice and the monotony and it makes people snicker. It's one of the few bright spots in my day to watch and see who giggles and who rolls their eyes.
I also have developed a terrible habit of exchanging puns with a friend of mine. She's not on the book of face anymore, but we still email or text each other awful puns like this one:
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I believe this was my first retaliation for her pun offensive.
It slid from there.
Now it's not really a weekend until I send her a pun and vice versa. We send them randomly during the week as well.
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It's just one of those things friends do to keep one another entertained.
Science Cat is one of my favorites.
George Takei is a wonderful source for all things punny. I love ones that make people look up things, too.
Thanks George Takei!
I have a deep and abiding crush on James Spader, so I must include a Spader pun:
weknowmemes.com
I guess the point is this: sometimes embracing the thing that makes you cringe can lead to something entertaining. Other times you just flop around on the floor and hope to recover without wetting yourself. I love our little Pun War. It's one of those things that I look forward to. Especially when she sends me this:
I want to shout it from the rooftops!
I.
Love.
Spring!
I rode my bike to work and it was glorious. It was warm and blue skies. The sun over the eastern mountains this morning was an electric tangerine and it caught my breath. Riding home I was almost too warm in my lightweight windbreaker. I loved it!
I have seen bunnies in the yard. I have seen the robins. I opened my window at work and listened to the sparrows chittering in the nearby tree.
My husband started the sprouts for the garden and they are already awakening and bursting through soil. I cannot wait. We still have monster spaghetti squash from last harvest and I cannot wait to see what our garden provides this year.
A jade plant that a friend gave into my care when she moved has taken over its new pot and started fresh sprouts. It is an amazing plant to behold.
I have several new ventures to nurture and cultivate into thriving life. I am blessed.
Happy Ostara everyone. May the revitalized season find you, warm you, and foster you into life.
Blessed be.
I placed an order on Amazon. It was for the video card and operating system. My hubby's been buying bits of a computer rebuild over the last few months. Ever since I bought Diablo III and it didn't play nicely with our current computer, we've been planning for a rebuild. We had minimum specs and yet, we had really bad stalls and graphic problems. Yuck! That is when you should upgrade right? When your gamer crush demands a new set-up? Besides, I keep getting "Come Back to WoW" notices. Not that I have time for gaming right now what with articles, essays, 9-5 (ok 730-340) and now a homebound tutor five nights a week (when and if she shows up). I am swamped and as my husband said, "Are you sure you're not spreading yourself too thin?"
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Maybe.
The end is in sight though and now I feel that compulsory kick to make it happen as soon as humanly possible, so I am going to work my ass off for it. Curse you type A residual tendencies*shakes fist The Goat demands it for security.
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"You will work your ass off to make sure there is sufficient safety net to please me."
This means Hubby has more household chores to maintain, so it's a trade off.
Anyway--computer parts are on their way to us. This means I can play WoW, Diablo III, and get some voiceover recordings going. Once we rebuild the desktop, it will be time for a new laptop. It's a vicious cycle of technology. However, my jobs are relying heavily on my ability to navigate the web, so maybe I can find a way to incorporate at home office expenses on our taxes somehow. I have no idea. I will have to investigate at home office rules and regulations. As long as the end is in sight, I can't say no. When every fiber of your being says so, how do you argue?
I just sent my last article for this cycle to the editor. I think she's a little behind because three of last week's are still in the "ready for editor" folder. Too late to request revisions, but it also means I do not get paid until they get passed on. I can wait.
I'm feeling slightly optimistic. It's odd, I know. You see, things keep happening. Opportunities keep presenting themselves. I now have a chance to be a mentor full-time this summer. I feel like kicking up my heals and saying:
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You see, if this job takes off the way the company wants it to, it has benefits. It is more money than the essay tutoring and it is more hours. I have to apply; that's not up for debate. I wanted to get that taken care of this weekend, but between essays, articles, and corned beef with cabbage, I didn't get there. It's on the top of the list for tomorrow though. I've been writing a gazillion articles about resume writing, so no worries there right? Anyway, what an unexpected opportunity! This is why I took the essay job anyway--opportunity and advancement.
I've also got a kind and generous friend who is going to give me lessons on getting my voiceover work kicked off. I have a plan for that as well, but we need our computer upgrade completed if I am really going to make a go of it. Although, my friend has offered to let me record at his place. Like I said, he's kind and generous.
It's going to be a busy summer.
I still feel a bit of a nervous flutter when I think about this transition, but it seems like the Universe is saying, "It's ok. You have all these other ways to earn a living AND be happy again." It makes the grieving easier. It's giving me more courage to take the leap. My goat is reassured, but not quite completely convinced. It's at least willing to walk that rocky cliff.
This past year presented me with the opportunity to reflect upon why exactly I love literature so much. I cannot fully describe why, but I think I've boiled it to its essence as much as I can. Literature is what allows us to connect to one another as human beings while we explore what it means to be human in this world.
I belong to an online book club that just finished a most sublime book. I wrote about it a few posts ago:
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We have been discussing this book a bit this week and we all agree on how engrossing it was even for those of us who are not particularly musical or inclined toward such pursuits. We all still connected to this book through the thoughtful and provoking characters. One character in particular seemed to lead our minds in certain yet varied directions. It takes a truly gifted author to bring together people in love and admiration of the written word.
One of my personal favorite authors tends to incite a wide range of reactions.
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I love Ayn Rand's fiction. The Fountainhead is and will always be on the top of my book recommendations for anyone. Rand gets a lot of crap for her polical views and the modern interpretation of such philosophy, but I think to write her off without any exploration is missing an opportunity to fully realize another point of view. While the character of Howard can come across as cold and callous, he's also an example of knowing when some relationships no longer fulfill you. Even close family relationships can not be fulfilling to sustain. I know this from interacting with actual people mind you, but Rand's protagonists make you think about the very nature of the relationships you cultivate. You must consider what you believe to be true and just and essential for living. Your conclusion on that rumination might not be mainstream or or popular, but you reasoned it out and you reached that conclusion through careful consideration. In my mind, that's essential to appreciating Ayn Rand just as it is essential in studying the transcendentalists. It's truly the lesson I took from this novel.
Another of my favorites could easily be relegated to the vampire genre and left there without any further grappling. That too would be wrong because of the host of richly composed and deeply considered tales she brings to the world.
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Rice is a master of imagery. When I read her novels I am completely transported to not only another place and time, but another reality altogether where supernatural beings are possible. I believe that supernatural tales allow us to delve into what makes us truly human. The world of monsters takes our weaknesses, our insecurities, and our terrors and throws them back at us until we either flee or accept what is most vulnerable about ourselves. Humans are capable of the same brutality, heartlessness, or compassion of any one of Rice's monsters. I truly respect her investigation and research into history to craft her narratives. Her novels are ones that I watch for release dates because I am just that much of a fan.
Then there are the classics like the grim and sordid E. A. Poe. Again, you have supernatural elements and human beings at their absolute worst. However, he was brilliant in his frail, complicated, egotistical and love-lorn way. I cannot help but feel complete pity for the man whose life was nothing but one big shit-fuck-stack. Beware that the link is not suitable for work. Anyway, without Poe we would have had to wait for the detective novel. Without Poe we'd be without this:
Poe went deep into our subconsciousness and exposed the rawness of our being with his stories. Whether we liked what he found or not, he makes us face what horrors lie within the human psyche.
I guess that is why I am so passionate about literature and why I miss it being a part of my daily employ. It offered me a way to connect to those who I work with every day. It allowed me to open their minds a little bit to the world outside so that they could begin to contemplate for themselves. Without literature and without me guiding and questioning, I wonder how many will ever take the time.
It fills me with great sadness to think that they won't.
I must believe that they will find those stories to inspire, to challenge, to frighten and to uplift. I miss being a part of the discovery though.
Been a busy week.
Many long nights and things to do.
Thank goodness this day is almost to a close. I cannot wait for this
weekend. I am hopeful that at least one
of my jobs will not be recording hours on Saturday. That way I can write articles on Saturday and
Sunday rather than all on Sunday like last week. At least last week’s articles all passed
muster and no revisions requested. Yeah
me!
The best part though—I am riding my bike tomorrow. Yahoo!
That’s right. My loving husband
got it tuned up and ready to ride, so tomorrow it makes its return appearance
to the streets of town. It’s killed me
not to ride this week with the weather being nicer and the snow being gone from
the road, but being at work until 9pm tonight makes me less inclined to hop on
a bike to ride home. Granted it is
staying lighter later, but by 9p it’s mostly dark and still quite cool. Best to drive today.
I’m looking forward to my inaugural ride of the season. I’ve missed riding. Mostly I’ve missed riding because finding a
parking spot for a bike is amazingly simple.
I loathe the parking lot because you have to time it just right. If you get here too early, no spots because
members of one team take the spots and then leave after I’ve already clocked in.
The other problem is if you wait too long to get here, the spots are all
full and you end up walking, which means you also must park on the street. Furthermore, the parking lot is also
vulnerable to attacks of soda. I’ve been
hit three times this year. Nothing is as
much fun as frozen soda on your windshield.
My bike has never been struck.
Another reason I am thankful for the bike involves the sheer
joy of it. I love watching the
neighborhoods come alive in the morning as I peddle. I see cats out on the
prowl, bunnies dashing for cover, and the occasional bird of prey swooping
across my path. I also love the smell of
spring. The earthy ripeness of the thaw
reminds me that planting season is coming.
In the afternoons, I get to meditate a bit on my day. I think part of my insomnia lately is the
fact that I don’t get to work off the stress and muck from work. Biking helps me clear my head of all that
clutter. Believe me; it needs to be
cleansed of that clutter before I get home.
I came across this posting on pagan page this morning. I honestly believe this to be true. Oddly enough, I also came across this article about complex amino acids and carbon compounds in space indicating that life could be possible elsewhere in the universe. I already knew that from watching all the science documentaries that I do that talk about the metals on rocks. The postings about the acids though are apparently falsehoods. Bastards! I'm not sure how to work into this topic.
I've received some subtle hints from my family about spiritual shows or books or just inspirational emails to read ever since I told my aunt I didn't need any more prayer books.
I began to ponder this idea. I spend my Sunday in quiet contemplation when I can. I read blogs from atheists like Greta Christina or pagan and Wicca sites that uplift me. I also read "This Week in God" from Rachel Maddow's blog as well as at least one posting if not more about the Catholic church's woes in the world as well as the strife caused by other world religions. I also try to incorporate some science documentaries in the mix. I really don't need any more to add in especially specifically Catholic or Christian rhetoric.
I'm not bitter mind you. I know plenty of bitter Catholics. I'm more ambivalent on the matter. It occurs to me as I ruminate on the religion I left behind that I never felt fulfilled in church. At most I felt annoyed by the noisy and crying children in the pew in front of me. I didn't enjoy religious studies as a kid. I remember being horrified by these Bible stories that were animated for kids. The one about King Herod killing the babies made me so sad as a kid. The pictures of bloody babies and soldiers slaughtering them filled me with confusion. What on Earth did a loving God have to do with this story? It was awful.
I never connected personally with my faith. I went through all the sacraments mind you--except Holy Orders and Last Rites for obvious reasons. I have participated in the Anointing of the Sick, which is Last Rites for the modern era. It just never comforted me the way it seems to comfort others. I never felt that warmth or need to turn to God in my times of distress. I never felt the peace that faithful mention feeling in the presence of God. I recall being in St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York. I thought it was a magnificent cathedral. It's huge and beautiful and astounding. Then there's the gift shop. I remember being absolutely appalled at that. I couldn't help but think about Jesus in the marketplace.
Being in nature is a whole other matter. I find the woods deeply relaxing. I find meditating near a river or lake profoundly moving and calming. I feel at peace when I perform a full moon ritual not because I feel the Lord and Lady's physical presence or the "power" or whatever you want to call it. I feel a harmony with every living thing in those moments. Paganism reminds me that we are all connected. We are all on this planet together for better or for worse. I never once felt that in church.
I hope the emails and subtle hints stop. I may have to speak up if they don't. For now though, I will accept and delete.
I spent this weekend focused on my two other jobs. Yesterday between bouts of stomach bug grossness I somehow managed to get 5 hours of online writing tutoring done. I must say that 2-3 weeks off makes it a little tough getting back in the swing of 30 minute turnarounds and tummy trouble does not help. I did it though. I also took a nap between 2.5 hour segments because the stomach bug was just that nasty.
Today, I got my 6 articles done. I know I had revisions on 4 of my 6 last week, but I never did hear back on the two strays. I figure they were either fine (yeah me) or the editor just didn't get to them by her deadline and I am therefore off the hook. My articles this week though were do's and don'ts, which proved much simpler to accomplish than reviews. I got them done in under an hour each save one, which was a little sketchy. My keywords were itchy skin eruptions. Nice right? I got them all done though and I can rest easy knowing that my burden is met. I anticipate rewrites and revisions of course, but the bulk of the work is done.
With all the work done, a little fun was warranted. So I dyed my hair. It was time; too much silver showing through. Yes, I have silver hair. I have had silver in my hair since I was 24. I am nearly 40 and I figure I will keep dying my hair. It has less to do with the silver than with the fact that dying my hair is fun. It gives me a chance to express myself. Hair color keeps me from getting bored with the monotony of life. My shorter, colorful hairstyles have always been one of the details that people associate with me. I've had everything from strawberry blond to black. I tend toward the red-brown spectrum for the most part. It's closer to my natural color to stick to this range, so the warm tones look good on me. Today I chose a medium reddish brown. I've been medium golden brown for the last few months. With the warmer weather it was time for a change. Brighter and bolder was definitely called for.
I started coloring my hair in college. Much to my surprise, a friend of mine dyed her hair Marilyn blond and on one spring time trip to Walmart, she talked me into trying it out. Consequently, I purchased a copper penny color and I have been hooked ever since. At times, I have ventured into unconventional color with midnight and royal blue. You see, when I was in high school my mom refused my request for blue hair. Now I see teens with every color of the rainbow, but blue hair in 1990 was reserved for punks and my mother probably wanted to avoid that indulgence. It only took me until 2007 to finally go blue. I think this summer I may try again. Long live the rebel in us all.
Today, I cried.
I used to think of crying as ridiculous and pointless and weakness. I was too tough to cry. As it stands, I still don't cry that often, but now I recognize the importance of a good cry now and then.
Today, I shut the door to my office, turned up some music, and just let the emotion roll out of me. It only lasted about five minutes, but it was necessary. This week has sucked the proverbial big one. Not all of it mind you, just certain parts. Today, I broke.
It felt good.
Crying is an odd phenomenon. We leak water out of our eyes for joy, for sorrow, for ridiculous TV commercials; it really doesn't matter, it just happens sometimes. I've learned that when the impulse comes, I should just find somewhere safe to let fly the tears of frustration.
I don't particularly enjoy crying mind you. You get all puffy-eyed, runny-nosed, and incoherent. I do not find any of those appealing. In fact, they are the reason I avoid crying in general. Yet, at times, the only way to recover and move on is to let the emotion roll right down your face.
Mascara can be an issue.
You know what I did after my cry? I threw myself into my next task. I even sang a song about how "to have present perfect tense, you need has or have. Only in the past perfect will use you had." Seriously. It's a song I made up to help me remember perfect tense. I sang it today for the first time in 15 years. It was hilarious and got quite a reaction. My nerd flag flew high today.
There was laughter. There was enjoyment. There was fun. There was a reminder about where my talents are most effective.
Hopefully tomorrow there will be more of the same.
Not much to report.
It is Wednesday, which means the week is more than half over.
We are having leftovers for dinner.
It snowed today. Then it melted.
I rewrote an article and revised another. No article revisions requested since. I am hoping I won't get more requests since I am not interested in revising tonight.
My husband and I shared a brain about grocery shopping. He asked me to stop and pick up an item he forgot and I picked up a few items I knew we were out of but weren't on the list. He got the same dang things.
When I sit here pondering the absolute unremarkable nature of today and what was good and what was bleak, I discover that this fellow I work with is really quite kind. It's odd. We worked together at a local fast food place when we were in high school. It was my first ever job and he was goofy, but nice. He had a crush on a friend of mine and I wasn't really interested in him in that way, so no big deal. Now twenty some years later, we are co-workers again.
He is funny and decent and benevolent. He offered to help me out today without a hesitation. I really appreciate that. He is quick with a joke to lighten the mood and he has a wry sense of humor at times. It's like those joke grenades that you toss out and then just wait for someone to get it. We seem to have struck a reciprocity that I don't think ever existed until this year. Anyway, he's really very thoughtful and willing to assist whenever needed. Sometimes I think that is to his detriment, but that's his choice to make I suppose.
There you have it. Today's bright spot was the fact that someone jumped up to help me out and I honestly appreciate everything this man has done for me this year. I enjoy his humor, his reliability, and his honest to goodness authenticity.
Dinner is almost ready and less than 90 minutes until my mid-week indulgence.
Last night, I came home and rocked out. I really just needed to unwind. It all started because I needed to hear this:
So I plugged the laptop into the speaker system and cranked it. My husband and I both sang along. I don't know why this song sticks with me, but I've always liked it. I think it's the guitar riff. Of course now, it's all about the giggly grrr factor of Supernatural, but I digress. The music just got louder and heavier as the evening went on.
I asked if my husband wanted to hear something, and he read my mind. No really. We do that sometimes. This was the result:
You gotta love a song about Vikings.
Then I decided to go for a little AC/DC. Odd because I am not a huge fan, but I like this one:
Then it was back to hubby for this one that I have not heard in a long time:
Which of course prompted the next selection:
Much to the felines' collective dismay, we kept going. It was just that kind of Monday.
Hissy doesn't like this song. She ran to the basement.
Poof was not partial to this song in particular. He slinked along the floor until he made it safely to the back room under the green chair.
Side note: I was in third grade. *snicker
I even went for Dream Theater:
I guess, there's just nothing quite like coming home, cracking a beer, and dancing to some classic metal. Screaming along is highly recommended. Annoying the fur children is an added bonus. It is a marvel that the neighbors didn't come knock on our door. Personally, I think the nuns were rockin' out, too.
What can I say?I
wrote 6 articles this weekend.Oddly
enough, I think the ones on electrical home repair were the best.I knew very little about electrical switches
and electrical service panels, but boy do I know a lot now.Whew! I’m hoping that as I get more familiar
with the writing style they want me to use, I will be able to shorten the time
per article from about two hours to one.I don’t want to be giving away my time you see.I get paid very little per article, but I
have to investigate the topic before I can write the darn thing.This means I spend a bulk of my time
searching for and reading through information pertaining to the topic. It’s
time consuming.Once I get an idea for
how to shape the article, then the process is fairly smooth and to the point.The hardest part though is not hitting the
space bar twice after a period.It’s
vexing and I have to proof specifically for that practice of two spaces after
the period.Somewhere my junior high
school keyboard instructor is grimacing.
I did find ways to reward myself for my hard work.You can call this part of the irrational hope
for spring people in colder regions go through this time of year, but I made
our reservation at the lake.I was able
to get one of the sites that we prefer for the whole time we shall be
there.Sometimes when I’ve made
reservations, I’ve been faced with either moving from one site to another mid
way through the week or taking a site at the non-flushable toilet loop of the
campground.I’d rather go with the non-flush
sites than pulling up stakes half way through.Making the reservation always gives me hope during this time of year. Once the hints of spring begin, the urge to
camp fills my thoughts.After spending a
cold winter indoors, I long for time in the mountains and in the lake.I am not a winter sports enthusiast for many
reasons, so I’m positively itching for the hills and forests by March.I have at least confirmed a time for our
camping retreat and we will also have a visit from some close friends while we
are there.I cannot wait for July.Must have patience.
Tell me you wouldn't rather be there, too. The sunrise over those mountains is spactacular to behold.
I also had my picture taken for some advertising.I really do not enjoy having my picture
taken.I almost always have a forced
look on my face or my eyes look weird or I close my eyes; I blink a lot in a
photo sessions.It takes a skilled
photographer to get me at ease enough to get a decent shot especially when I am
wearing belly dance costumes.The
restaurant where my troupe dances requested some pictures of us for their
lobby, print advertising, and *gulp* airport advertising.Well, I only took one costume because it was
the one I wanted to be in the pictures.It’s bold and colorful and very me, but I got a little friendly
chastising for only bringing one costume.This led to me trying on an outfit that when I looked at it months ago,
I thought there was no way that it would fit my bosom.It fit.I need to adjust the straps mind you, but the cups hold the girls just
fine.Imagine that.It’s even copper and gold tones and flattering
on me.I have been saving my belly dance
spending for when our costumer gets in a new shipment from Turkey.I really want a deep green color bedlah set,
but this metallic tone set is quite lovely.I can’t come up with a really good reason not to buy it other than of
course the cost.You know what
though?I have not bought a new outfit
since this time last year.I have been a
very good girl.You know what else? I
look damn good in this costume.At this
point, it is not a question of need.I
work hard.My husband and I have enough
to take care of bills and eat, so spending a little money on this luscious
outfit is not going to harm our bottom line.If I write 9 more articles, I can
pay for it.Why not put this added
income that I wasn’t expecting until summer toward something that makes me feel
beautiful?I am very persuasive when I
argue with myself.
Best part of arguing with myself: I win every time.
There you have it.Writing took up a majority of my weekend, but I was able to sneak a
little me time in, too.Now if this
ridiculous winter would just end, I could go pollute the air with my bike riding.Click that link.It made me want to slap my forehead in
exasperated disbelief this morning.
I love finishing a book.
Sometimes at the end of a particularly engrossing novel, reading that
last line is satisfying like a truly succulent meal. I just finished Frank Conroy’s Body and Soul which is this
month’s reading club selection. I’d
highly recommend it to anyone who prefers a little gravitas to their
novels. If you’re inclined at all toward
the influence of music in the human experience, you would also enjoy it.
The novel centers on a young man named Claude. Claude’s background is modest and almost
Dickensian. Despite that, he finds
himself playing a piano. Eventually, he
meets someone who is willing to teach him because this adult recognizes
Claude’s talent and potential. The novel
is divided into three parts almost like a piece of music itself. I can’t believe that was not the intended
comparison either since the standard for a concerto is three movements.
An intriguing aspect is the historical setting connected to
New York City and World War II. Without
allowing the setting to overpower the storyline, Conroy deftly gives the reader
a sense of time and place. The way the
setting weaves into the story contributes to the understanding of the
characters and to the development of the protagonist through his childhood and
on into adulthood. The last novel I
recall that captured this same idea for me was The Great Gatsby.
Devouring a book like Body
and Soul simply feels exhilarating.
It saddens me when someone tells me that he or she doesn’t enjoy
reading. It baffles me frankly. Reading is one remarkable way that helps me
connect to the humanity of life. It
gives me new perspectives. It repulses,
confuses, devastates, and uplifts—sometimes all in one book! I’m not sure what our next book club
selection is, but this one truly delivered a compelling story. It also offered the best insight into money:
“It’s a
nuisance. Money is a nuisance.” Aaron
Copland to Claude Rawlings page 406
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