A few weeks ago I finally became apparently one of the last people in America to get a smartphone. My old cell phone was only two years old and the woman who helped me set up the new one at Best Buy literally laughed at me for still using it. Seriously?
I was fine with the old one, but the amazing camera and video on these new ones is what convinced me to go ahead and upgrade, since I was eligible. The day after I did it our babysitter's Facebook status informed the world that her 75-year-old grandmother had just gotten an iPhone. I always roll my eyes at Matt when he calls us old, but sometimes I'm forced to wonder.
Here's another example: I still primarily use the first email address I ever had, the Hotmail one I've had since I was a freshman in college -- so since 1997. (So does Matt.) If you're shrugging your shoulders, you're old too.
I don't get it. Hotmail works fine, that email address is my login for numerous websites, everyone I know already has this address, etc. Why would I switch to Gmail just because all the cool kids are doing it? But I keep getting comments along the lines of "Feel free to join the 21st century."
Kara: "Also, let me say that it is very retro of you to still be sporting the Hotmail account."
Me: "WHY is everyone hating on my Hotmail lately?"
Kara: "Haha...it is kind of like virtually showing up to a party with a boom box on your shoulder."
When I mentioned this to Matt he told me he'd just read an article that claimed if you still use Hotmail you're more or less presenting yourself to the world as a dirty old man.
As a concession I did get a Gmail account along with the smartphone (so did Matt), but I'm not thrilled about switching to it because of the aforementioned inconveniences. This week I'm consumed with the details of moving, but I probably will cave and shift to Gmail once things slow down. If anyone feels led to encourage or discourage this, please state your case.
Showing posts with label on being a dork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label on being a dork. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
On thoughts
Periodically the gym sends out health- and fitness-related emails, which I usually just delete. For someone who really likes to exercise, I really dislike reading about it.
But I happened to open one of them the other day and in it I was informed that people average 60,000 thoughts a day. The gist of the email was that most of those thoughts (80 percent, supposedly) are negative. It suggested replacing those thoughts with a "positive, soothing message," for example, "when you feel overwhelmed, think, 'I trust in the process of life.'" This is why I usually delete these emails.
But let's go back to the interesting part: 60,000 thoughts. My first, well, thought was, That's a huge number! And that got me to wondering how you could even begin to estimate the number of a person's thoughts per day. Where does one thought end and another one begin? Are other people's minds way more streamlined than mine?
I think it's fascinating that we all have these constant inner monologues and memories and connections and ideas coming and going and even though it seems so normal to us, it's incredible how much we're processing at a million miles a minute. And I think it's cool that none of us knows exactly how that plays out in anyone else's head.
I almost always have a song going, plus a bunch of works in progress -- a shopping list, an email response, a phone call, a blog post, the logistics of an afternoon. I think most of my thoughts are on the present and future, not the past, although those are definitely there. No way are 80 percent of them negative, and it's a good thing, because I'd spend all day rolling my eyes if I had to add incorporate positive affirmations about "the process of life" to everything else going on in my head.
But I happened to open one of them the other day and in it I was informed that people average 60,000 thoughts a day. The gist of the email was that most of those thoughts (80 percent, supposedly) are negative. It suggested replacing those thoughts with a "positive, soothing message," for example, "when you feel overwhelmed, think, 'I trust in the process of life.'" This is why I usually delete these emails.
But let's go back to the interesting part: 60,000 thoughts. My first, well, thought was, That's a huge number! And that got me to wondering how you could even begin to estimate the number of a person's thoughts per day. Where does one thought end and another one begin? Are other people's minds way more streamlined than mine?
I think it's fascinating that we all have these constant inner monologues and memories and connections and ideas coming and going and even though it seems so normal to us, it's incredible how much we're processing at a million miles a minute. And I think it's cool that none of us knows exactly how that plays out in anyone else's head.
I almost always have a song going, plus a bunch of works in progress -- a shopping list, an email response, a phone call, a blog post, the logistics of an afternoon. I think most of my thoughts are on the present and future, not the past, although those are definitely there. No way are 80 percent of them negative, and it's a good thing, because I'd spend all day rolling my eyes if I had to add incorporate positive affirmations about "the process of life" to everything else going on in my head.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
C.S. Lewis drank here
I am not a wearer of Christian apparel but I couldn't resist responding to the ad. I always wonder "Who in the world comes up with this stuff?" and what if I were that person? Apparently any of us could be that person because the company posting the ad responded to my three-sentence inquiry with an invitation to start submitting ideas immediately.
I won't be doing that but I did challenge Matt to what was supposed to be a 15-minute competition. It turns out coming up with cheesy Christian slogans is way too easy. This is day three and I can't stop thinking of them.
Totally unrelated, Matt and I have been making mad progress on the house with the kids back in school yesterday and today. Things are coming together really well. Carpet, hardwood, kitchen appliances and light fixtures are almost finalized. Walls are being painted. Cabinets are being installed next week. The upstairs is trimmed out. Matt gave me a front porch swing for Christmas! When it comes time to sell, Matt's probably going to have to drag me out of there kicking and screaming.
"Modern Family" returns right now after the holiday hiatus so I'm out. Happy New Year, by the way!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Birthday perks
The great thing about being married to the birthday boy is that you get to enjoy all of the day's perks without being a year older. In our household, Matt's birthday celebration kicked off just minutes after I blogged Monday night, when we prematurely treated ourselves to a generous slice of cake. It's so much better when it's warm that it would have been a shame to save ALL of it for breakfast the next day.
Tuesday morning Claire helped me with the finishing touches (sprinkles) and then our whole family dug in, no one more enthusiastically than Evan. I made sure to wipe the kids' faces really well before school that morning. It's one thing to show up at 8:30 a.m. with traces of oatmeal or toothpaste around the edge of your mouth, but responsible teachers might frown upon evidence of chocolate cake.
For lunch the greater Kirby crew went to Mellow Mushroom, where we had the whole outdoor seating area to ourselves, so the kids didn't have to sit still or be particularly quiet while we waited for our food. Then for dinner Matt and I got a babysitter and went to a frugalish dinner at Ashten's. Through a Restaurant.com deal improved by my (waning) affiliation with Demand Studios we bought three $25 gift cards for $2 each awhile back, and this was the perfect chance to use one of them.
We claimed a couch and ate and drank and talked for a lovely couple of hours. In that time I realized I now hate light beer. I ordered a Michelob Ultra out of habit and I could not finish it because it tasted so watered-down. Matt has always said that and I have always responded by accusing him of being a beer snob. I think he felt vindicated and proud. We don't do birthday presents, but this was probably a good substitute. He's turned me on to IPAs lately and I don't know that there's any going back.
We ended the night by finishing most of our Christmas shopping and then having a two-person wrapping party for our kids from Amanda's Angel Tree (not too late to participate, people! Click here).
Before reading our book club's November selection, "The Man Who Was Thursday," by G.K. Chesterton, I knew of Chesterton only because he's credited with a quotation I once ran across and liked enough to write in my handy-dandy quote-noting book: "I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."
"Happiness doubled by wonder" pretty well describes how I feel to be living life as Matt's right-hand woman. Happy 33rd birthday, babe.
"It may be conceded to the mathematicians that four is twice two. But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one. That is why, in spite of a hundred disadvantages, the world will always return to monogamy." - Chesterton, "The Man Who Was Thursday"
P.S. And one more from the same book, because it's good enough to be included with no relevance whatsoever to this post:
"Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front ..."
Tuesday morning Claire helped me with the finishing touches (sprinkles) and then our whole family dug in, no one more enthusiastically than Evan. I made sure to wipe the kids' faces really well before school that morning. It's one thing to show up at 8:30 a.m. with traces of oatmeal or toothpaste around the edge of your mouth, but responsible teachers might frown upon evidence of chocolate cake.
For lunch the greater Kirby crew went to Mellow Mushroom, where we had the whole outdoor seating area to ourselves, so the kids didn't have to sit still or be particularly quiet while we waited for our food. Then for dinner Matt and I got a babysitter and went to a frugalish dinner at Ashten's. Through a Restaurant.com deal improved by my (waning) affiliation with Demand Studios we bought three $25 gift cards for $2 each awhile back, and this was the perfect chance to use one of them.
We claimed a couch and ate and drank and talked for a lovely couple of hours. In that time I realized I now hate light beer. I ordered a Michelob Ultra out of habit and I could not finish it because it tasted so watered-down. Matt has always said that and I have always responded by accusing him of being a beer snob. I think he felt vindicated and proud. We don't do birthday presents, but this was probably a good substitute. He's turned me on to IPAs lately and I don't know that there's any going back.
We ended the night by finishing most of our Christmas shopping and then having a two-person wrapping party for our kids from Amanda's Angel Tree (not too late to participate, people! Click here).
Before reading our book club's November selection, "The Man Who Was Thursday," by G.K. Chesterton, I knew of Chesterton only because he's credited with a quotation I once ran across and liked enough to write in my handy-dandy quote-noting book: "I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."
"Happiness doubled by wonder" pretty well describes how I feel to be living life as Matt's right-hand woman. Happy 33rd birthday, babe.
"It may be conceded to the mathematicians that four is twice two. But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one. That is why, in spite of a hundred disadvantages, the world will always return to monogamy." - Chesterton, "The Man Who Was Thursday"
P.S. And one more from the same book, because it's good enough to be included with no relevance whatsoever to this post:
"Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front ..."
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Reading, running, reindeer, etc.
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| These are the books I submitted for consideration for our book club to read next year: "Breathing Lessons," by Anne Tyler; "Fair and Tender Ladies," by Lee Smith; "The Stone Diaries," by Carol Shields; "Ellen Foster," by Kaye Gibbons; "Olive Kitteridge," by Elizabeth Strout; "Gilead," by Marilynne Robinson; and "Angela's Ashes," by Frank McCourt. "Angela's Ashes" is a great book and one I think would be a good fit for our club, but it's not really one of my favorites, as the others are. I have read them multiple times, I buy them at thrift stores and force them on friends, and I try to track down everything else their authors have written (only Kaye Gibbons has never disappointed). Rationally, I know that everyone has different tastes in books, but irrationally, it's hard for me to believe not everyone would love these as much as I do. |
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| Amanda and I ran the Reindeer Fun Run on Saturday. It was a cold morning, a hilly course and I was quite unrested from a week of croupy Kirby kids, but it was a really fun event. I ran the 10k and by the 2-mile mark I knew my best miles were behind me. I also knew there were a lot of women ahead of me and I had no chance of winning anything. That let me chill out and more or less enjoy the rest of the run, even though my competitiveness always creeps in during races. I got a second wind around mile 4.5, as we wound through a cemetery, of all things, but it didn't last. Thank goodness the last half-mile was downhill. Unfortunately, the stroller-pushers and dog-walkers were finishing their 5k just as the 10k runners came in, so we had to weave our way through the crowd. I sprinted the last, like, three seconds to pass three women, on the off chance I was in the running for an age-group award (I wasn't), and almost bulldozed some people who had finished the race and then just stopped moving. The finish-line photos should be interesting. I finished in 46:33, a 7:30 pace. It felt disappointing at first, but in retrospect there's no reason I should have done better, so I'm satisfied. |
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| I don't think I had started this blog when Kate and I ran the first Reindeer Fun Run, in 2007. A lot has changed in its five years -- it's in Aberdeen now, includes a 5k and a 10k, and had more than 2,000 participants this year. I never did get my T-shirt for that first race. I was not in good shape and when I tried to kick it to the finish, I misjudged the amount of steam I had left and nearly vomited my way down Broad Street. Kate beat me, but we were in separate age groups so I think we both won our age groups (at least I know I did because the medal was a Christmas tree ornament that I can see from where I'm sitting). |
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| This finish-line photo of someone else from the 2007 Reindeer Fun Run makes me laugh because it shows me dry heaving in the background. I did that for the last half-mile. |
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
March Madness (in November)
I'm working on an article previewing the 2012 NCAA men's basketball tournament. Do you know how hard that is to do in November? I'm going to see what I can do about sharing the byline with Matt because he has been awesomely helpful. He made an outline for me, listed teams and players to highlight, brought me up to speed on recruiting classes and even gave me a great quote defending his opinion that "the first two rounds are the best four days in all of sports."
Since there's only so much you can say about an athletic tournament that won't start for more than three months, I'm focusing some of the article on "bracketology." I have filled out a bracket every year since I was about 12. I remember the big blank bracket being unveiled in the newspaper every year, and I remember my whole seventh-grade social-studies class filling out brackets together. In retrospect, I can think of several ways that could have led to a legitimate lesson, but my social-studies teacher was a coach and a bracket was just a bracket.
Each pick seemed so important. I think I might have believed there was such a thing as a perfect bracket. I also can remember, at about the same age, lying flat on my back in our back yard at night, watching a meteor shower and feeling fairly certain one was going to land on me. That was probably as likely as my completing a perfect bracket, a feat that, according to my research, has never been recorded.
Doc’s Sports Service spells it out: “You are 60 billion times more likely to win the Powerball lottery. Shoot, you are more likely to win the Powerball on consecutive weeks. ... If every person in America – all 300 million – filled a bracket out, the probability of someone winning is .00000000003523. If every person on the planet were to fill out 10 million brackets each, the odds are less than 1 percent that one would have a perfect bracket. If every person on Earth filled out one bracket per second, it would take 43 years to fill out every possible combination.”
Those are some crazy stats. The odds of being struck by lightning in the United States in a given year are about 1 in 500,000. Stay safe.
Since there's only so much you can say about an athletic tournament that won't start for more than three months, I'm focusing some of the article on "bracketology." I have filled out a bracket every year since I was about 12. I remember the big blank bracket being unveiled in the newspaper every year, and I remember my whole seventh-grade social-studies class filling out brackets together. In retrospect, I can think of several ways that could have led to a legitimate lesson, but my social-studies teacher was a coach and a bracket was just a bracket.
Each pick seemed so important. I think I might have believed there was such a thing as a perfect bracket. I also can remember, at about the same age, lying flat on my back in our back yard at night, watching a meteor shower and feeling fairly certain one was going to land on me. That was probably as likely as my completing a perfect bracket, a feat that, according to my research, has never been recorded.
Doc’s Sports Service spells it out: “You are 60 billion times more likely to win the Powerball lottery. Shoot, you are more likely to win the Powerball on consecutive weeks. ... If every person in America – all 300 million – filled a bracket out, the probability of someone winning is .00000000003523. If every person on the planet were to fill out 10 million brackets each, the odds are less than 1 percent that one would have a perfect bracket. If every person on Earth filled out one bracket per second, it would take 43 years to fill out every possible combination.”
Those are some crazy stats. The odds of being struck by lightning in the United States in a given year are about 1 in 500,000. Stay safe.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
For the record
I tend to walk past people I know without acknowledging them. Constantly, from what I'm told. It has taken Matt years to realize I'm honestly not ignoring or avoiding these people, I just don't notice them. Making eye contact is something I need to work on.
One infamous incident happened a few years ago. I was supposed to meet Matt and Stephen at Chick-fil-A for lunch. I got there, got a table and waited. After a few minutes I called Matt to see where they were. To my surprise, they were in the booth directly across from me. Apparently I had walked right past them to get to my seat and, amazed at my oblivion, they had decided to stay there and see how long it would take me to spot them -- which I never did.
Another example: At the gym I usually run and then spend a little time doing core work. One day last week I had been doing pushups and ab work for about five minutes when the guy beside me on the mat said, "Hey, Jenn." It was Jacob, and he'd been there the whole time.
And another example: Last week at Caleb's party, Johnathan told me he sees me driving all the time and does everything he can think of to get my attention but I never notice him -- even though he's usually driving a sherrif's car.
Matt finds this trait baffling and incredible and, I think, mildly annoying. I admit it is bad when the people I pass without speaking think I'm being a snob. I am not!
But I prefer to put a positive spin on it. My ability to focus, tuning out background "noise," is why I'm able to edit, write or read on the couch while Matt sits beside me watching TV. And at least I'm not checking out the guy beside me at the gym, right?
Seriously, though. If you and I know each other and you see me out and I haven't spoken to you, it's safe to assume I haven't seen you, so please make the first move -- and if you don't, don't get huffy that I didn't. What's your excuse?
----------
Yesterday:
Me: "I sure do love your daddy, Claire!"
Claire: "I love Daddy."
Me: "Yep, we both love him."
Claire: "No, I love him! You're an old woman."
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The long-awaited, much-anticipated moment of Meg's blog reveal has arrived! I can't believe it. Check it out. Meg, you made my day!
One infamous incident happened a few years ago. I was supposed to meet Matt and Stephen at Chick-fil-A for lunch. I got there, got a table and waited. After a few minutes I called Matt to see where they were. To my surprise, they were in the booth directly across from me. Apparently I had walked right past them to get to my seat and, amazed at my oblivion, they had decided to stay there and see how long it would take me to spot them -- which I never did.
Another example: At the gym I usually run and then spend a little time doing core work. One day last week I had been doing pushups and ab work for about five minutes when the guy beside me on the mat said, "Hey, Jenn." It was Jacob, and he'd been there the whole time.
And another example: Last week at Caleb's party, Johnathan told me he sees me driving all the time and does everything he can think of to get my attention but I never notice him -- even though he's usually driving a sherrif's car.
Matt finds this trait baffling and incredible and, I think, mildly annoying. I admit it is bad when the people I pass without speaking think I'm being a snob. I am not!
But I prefer to put a positive spin on it. My ability to focus, tuning out background "noise," is why I'm able to edit, write or read on the couch while Matt sits beside me watching TV. And at least I'm not checking out the guy beside me at the gym, right?
Seriously, though. If you and I know each other and you see me out and I haven't spoken to you, it's safe to assume I haven't seen you, so please make the first move -- and if you don't, don't get huffy that I didn't. What's your excuse?
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Yesterday:
Me: "I sure do love your daddy, Claire!"
Claire: "I love Daddy."
Me: "Yep, we both love him."
Claire: "No, I love him! You're an old woman."
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The long-awaited, much-anticipated moment of Meg's blog reveal has arrived! I can't believe it. Check it out. Meg, you made my day!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Unmarketable skills
Unfortunately, I'm bad at estimating how quickly I can load two kids plus myself and all of our accoutrement into the car, so this skill does not help me be punctual.
I'm also good at the baby-shower game where you roll out a paper streamer to estimate the size of the baby bump. I have won quite a few party favors this way.
When we were in high school, Matt was shocked and amazed that I could identify the flavor of individual Skittles as I ate them, blindfolded, one by one. (He didn't believe me until I was thus tested.) He thought they all tasted the same, a la M&M's. Turns out his sense of taste isn't that great. Lucky me (he eats anything I cook)!
What useless skills do you possess?
Friday, October 21, 2011
Overnighter
Thanks to the spontaneous generosity of Mom and Dad, who kept Claire and Evan last night and today, and Kara, who let us stay in her awesome apartment last night, Matt and I enjoyed something of an overnight excursion in lieu of what would have been just a long day of driving and meetings.
Highlights:
- The free dresser, vanity and matching stool we claimed from a front yard somewhere close to Albemarle
- Kara's illustrated guide to getting into her apartment
- Discovering McDonald's mochas
Low points:
- Waking up at 6:30 a.m. unassisted by kids or an alarm clock
- An icebreaker involving an incomplete puzzle
- Accidentally following Matt into the men's rest room at McDonald's
Highlights:
- The free dresser, vanity and matching stool we claimed from a front yard somewhere close to Albemarle
- Kara's illustrated guide to getting into her apartment
- Discovering McDonald's mochas
Low points:
- Waking up at 6:30 a.m. unassisted by kids or an alarm clock
- An icebreaker involving an incomplete puzzle
- Accidentally following Matt into the men's rest room at McDonald's
Monday, October 17, 2011
Classics
I finally made some progress on "Jane Eyre" (for book club) during naptime today and so far I'm not overly impressed. I will finish it, and I'm hopeful it will improve -- after all, most classics are classics for a reason.
There are plenty of exceptions, of course. I consider "Moby Dick" one of the worst books I've ever tried to read. Maybe it's just way, way over my head, but I couldn't even make it through the movie. At book club last month Heather hilariously described attending a college theater production of it. Can you even imagine? (She walked out.)
As much as I loved "Pride and Prejudice" when I finally read it last year, I'm thinking I should read "Sense and Sensibility." On maybe our first official date, Matt and I saw that movie. We talked through the whole thing and I've always thought it was because the movie was just that bad. In retrospect, maybe the company was just that good.
Besides, when is a movie ever as good as the book? I'm sure there are some examples, but right now I can't think of any. Nominations?
Interesting. I just reread a blog post I wrote when I was less than halfway through "Pride and Prejudice," and my take on it at that point was "I don't think I missed much" (not reading it in high school). So maybe "Jane Eyre" will win me over yet.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Disturbed
If you know me well, and especially if you've ever lived with me, you know that I DESPISE COCKROACHES. I think they are absolutely vile. No one likes roaches, but I didn't hate them with such passion until the summer I lived in Kentucky and my apartment was crawling with them. Click here if you want to read more details about my life as the roaches' roomie (and why wouldn't you?). Good times.
I know it's irrational but one of things I like about new houses is that they seem less likely to have bugs, specifically roaches. In my head, if I start out with a new house and always keep it clean, maybe the roaches will never sniff their way in. But in an older house, there are who knows how many layers of other people's filth in dark corners I can't reach to clean, and roaches are inevitable.
Again, I know it's not that simple. All houses have some bugs. I'm not hating on old houses.
The first couple of months we lived in our current house I saw virtually no bugs at all and no roaches. I even mentioned this to Matt. Jinx! In a matter of days several generously proportioned roaches made their presence known (all are dead now).
But last week a terrible thing happened. I was about to use the bathroom when I noticed a HUGE roach just chilling inside the toilet bowl, right above the water line! Seriously. I mean, seriously. The garage, sure; the kitchen floor, if you must; but my toilet is off limits, roaches!
I was afraid if I just flushed it it would swim right back up. They are called "water bugs" for a reason. So I drowned it in wasp spray, slammed the toilet lid down, and locked the bathroom door from the inside so Claire wouldn't get into any of that while I went upstairs to put Evan down for his nap. Matt cleaned it all up when he got home. Thanks, babe.
I remaindisproportionately shaken. So much for peeing in the middle of the night without turning the light on. So much for comfortably sitting on a toilet seat, for that matter -- now I know what could be lurking inches away, and those things are fast! I need to get to the bottom of this situation.
The first thing I want to do is get the bajillion cardboard boxes out of our garage (boxes and paper grocery bags are breeding grounds for roaches, I've heard). We've been saving every "good" box that comes our way since we'll need them for moving in a few months, and they're really adding up. To be honest, our garage looks like something out of "Hoarders" right now. So we need to move them to the storage building.
Another option (thanks, Lauren G.) is to have the pros come and spray. The potential problem with that is that Evan is all over this house and if he discovers a dead roach it WILL go in his mouth. So I don't know. Probably I should just get mentally tough about roaches. If I talked myself into being unticklish for a year in high school, I should be able to do that.
I know it's irrational but one of things I like about new houses is that they seem less likely to have bugs, specifically roaches. In my head, if I start out with a new house and always keep it clean, maybe the roaches will never sniff their way in. But in an older house, there are who knows how many layers of other people's filth in dark corners I can't reach to clean, and roaches are inevitable.
Again, I know it's not that simple. All houses have some bugs. I'm not hating on old houses.
The first couple of months we lived in our current house I saw virtually no bugs at all and no roaches. I even mentioned this to Matt. Jinx! In a matter of days several generously proportioned roaches made their presence known (all are dead now).
But last week a terrible thing happened. I was about to use the bathroom when I noticed a HUGE roach just chilling inside the toilet bowl, right above the water line! Seriously. I mean, seriously. The garage, sure; the kitchen floor, if you must; but my toilet is off limits, roaches!
I was afraid if I just flushed it it would swim right back up. They are called "water bugs" for a reason. So I drowned it in wasp spray, slammed the toilet lid down, and locked the bathroom door from the inside so Claire wouldn't get into any of that while I went upstairs to put Evan down for his nap. Matt cleaned it all up when he got home. Thanks, babe.
I remain
The first thing I want to do is get the bajillion cardboard boxes out of our garage (boxes and paper grocery bags are breeding grounds for roaches, I've heard). We've been saving every "good" box that comes our way since we'll need them for moving in a few months, and they're really adding up. To be honest, our garage looks like something out of "Hoarders" right now. So we need to move them to the storage building.
Another option (thanks, Lauren G.) is to have the pros come and spray. The potential problem with that is that Evan is all over this house and if he discovers a dead roach it WILL go in his mouth. So I don't know. Probably I should just get mentally tough about roaches. If I talked myself into being unticklish for a year in high school, I should be able to do that.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
A rhyming whine
(Watch this short video -- click here -- before reading my own true, equally ridiculous version.)
My First-World Problems
I haven't hit the gym in more than a week
I'm drowning in laundry from our trip to the beach
We got home to find my car battery was dead
For a day I had to drive Matt's Lexus instead
My engagement ring has a crooked prong
My mind can't turn off a certain Queen song
Our couch is so ugly it could pass for modern art
Our new house is so perfect that it kind of hurts my heart
Mom's Morning Out is over till the fall
Which means some days there's no me-time at all
The writers I am editing can't learn to use a hyphen
Does any word rhyme with that except "siphon"?
Our auto-start coffeepot lacks battery backup
So overnight storms can delay my first cup
There's a glare on the TV that we watch on the treadmill
I need a cut and color like a burger needs a grill
We can't park in the garage because it's full of excess stuff
None of our wine glasses seem big enough
I have to walk upstairs to talk on my cell phone
And I'm embarrassed to admit I could go on and on
My First-World Problems
I haven't hit the gym in more than a week
I'm drowning in laundry from our trip to the beach
We got home to find my car battery was dead
For a day I had to drive Matt's Lexus instead
My engagement ring has a crooked prong
My mind can't turn off a certain Queen song
Our couch is so ugly it could pass for modern art
Our new house is so perfect that it kind of hurts my heart
Mom's Morning Out is over till the fall
Which means some days there's no me-time at all
The writers I am editing can't learn to use a hyphen
Does any word rhyme with that except "siphon"?
Our auto-start coffeepot lacks battery backup
So overnight storms can delay my first cup
There's a glare on the TV that we watch on the treadmill
I need a cut and color like a burger needs a grill
We can't park in the garage because it's full of excess stuff
None of our wine glasses seem big enough
I have to walk upstairs to talk on my cell phone
And I'm embarrassed to admit I could go on and on
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Book club!
A nicely balanced group of good friends and friends of friends, a steady flow of wine, all kids at home with our husbands, and a full evening of lively conversation, some of which was centered on a good book -- I loved every minute.
Our debut selection was "Water for Elephants" and I thought it was a great choice -- an easy read, but well-written. I had not read it until it was "assigned" for the club. Once again, my prejudice against unappealing titles (and covers) almost made me miss a good book (e.g., "The Stone Diaries," "Anna Karenina").
Now that I think about it, my bookshelves display some reverse discrimination as well -- books I bought because their titles (or covers) (or authors' reputation) made me want to read them and like them, but I just can't and don't (e.g., "A Prayer for Owen Meany," Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All").
Incidentally, I was grateful Matt found me a used copy of "Water for Elephants," because I am opposed to owning the new version with Reese Witherspoon and the creepy "Twilight" guy on the cover. I want to see the movie, but not on the front of my book. Come on.
On the subject of books, I did finally finish "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" that was so highly recommended by pretty much the whole world. I did not like it at all, and if it were any other book I would have quit two chapters in. But everyone kept telling me to persevere, that it had a slow start but eventually I wouldn't be able to put it down. I read the whole thing. It just didn't do it for me.
What books have pleasantly (or unpleasantly) surprised you?
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Grammar hammer
Dear [editors],
I'm glad to have begun writing on a freelance basis for The Pilot. I've been assigned interesting stories and the pay, if not princely, is always prompt.
I particularly enjoyed writing about Sandhills Farm to Table, a movement that in both principle and practice exemplifies so much of what I love about our community.
When I read the first installment of this series this morning, I was disappointed to find that two mistakes had been inserted into my copy. As mistakes go, they're minor -- an ill-advised apostrophe and a questionable capital letter. But it's always disheartening when copy editing, which is meant to guard against errors large and small, and above all should do no harm, does just that.
My main quarrel is with the addition of an apostrophe in the following sentence: “What this does is guarantee the farmers’ purchase of their produce,” McAllister says. This apostrophe makes "farmers" possessive, as if they themselves will be purchasing their produce. Which, of course, makes no sense.
I also noticed the capitalization of "the" in the following sentence: "The hope, adds McAllister, who oversees distribution at The Village Chapel location, is to create a win-win situation in which 'every Moore County resident has secure access to sufficient local farm and food products.'" The Village Chapel's proper name does include "The," so its capitalization in a given sentence is a question of style as much as of technical correctness.
The closest AP style opinion I could find was this: "The definite article is generally lowercase in AP news stories about universities, professional organizations and the like." But Bill Walsh, a copy editor at The Washington Post (or, a Washington Post copy editor), addressed the question on his blog, http://theslot.blogspot.com.
"Don't go capitalizing 'the' in something like 'the Hague-based International Court of Justice,' even if you normally cap 'The Hague.' In that instance, 'the' goes with 'International Court of Justice,' not with 'Hague,'" he wrote.
Likewise, in my article, "the" goes with "location," not with "Village Chapel."
Again, as mistakes go, these are small, and few readers will notice them. But they're still mistakes. And taking care with details like punctuation and capitalization implies you're also committed to accuracy with the facts. Inversely, sloppiness in the details can cast doubt on the credibility of the content, not to mention the writer and the publication.
Print being print, it's too late to change the hard copy. But could you please correct the online version of this article?
Thanks so much.
I'm glad to have begun writing on a freelance basis for The Pilot. I've been assigned interesting stories and the pay, if not princely, is always prompt.
I particularly enjoyed writing about Sandhills Farm to Table, a movement that in both principle and practice exemplifies so much of what I love about our community.
When I read the first installment of this series this morning, I was disappointed to find that two mistakes had been inserted into my copy. As mistakes go, they're minor -- an ill-advised apostrophe and a questionable capital letter. But it's always disheartening when copy editing, which is meant to guard against errors large and small, and above all should do no harm, does just that.
My main quarrel is with the addition of an apostrophe in the following sentence: “What this does is guarantee the farmers’ purchase of their produce,” McAllister says. This apostrophe makes "farmers" possessive, as if they themselves will be purchasing their produce. Which, of course, makes no sense.
I also noticed the capitalization of "the" in the following sentence: "The hope, adds McAllister, who oversees distribution at The Village Chapel location, is to create a win-win situation in which 'every Moore County resident has secure access to sufficient local farm and food products.'" The Village Chapel's proper name does include "The," so its capitalization in a given sentence is a question of style as much as of technical correctness.
The closest AP style opinion I could find was this: "The definite article is generally lowercase in AP news stories about universities, professional organizations and the like." But Bill Walsh, a copy editor at The Washington Post (or, a Washington Post copy editor), addressed the question on his blog, http://theslot.blogspot.com.
"Don't go capitalizing 'the' in something like 'the Hague-based International Court of Justice,' even if you normally cap 'The Hague.' In that instance, 'the' goes with 'International Court of Justice,' not with 'Hague,'" he wrote.
Likewise, in my article, "the" goes with "location," not with "Village Chapel."
Again, as mistakes go, these are small, and few readers will notice them. But they're still mistakes. And taking care with details like punctuation and capitalization implies you're also committed to accuracy with the facts. Inversely, sloppiness in the details can cast doubt on the credibility of the content, not to mention the writer and the publication.
Print being print, it's too late to change the hard copy. But could you please correct the online version of this article?
Thanks so much.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Neat > clean
Trying to sell our house while having a newly mobile baby on the loose has given new meaning to the expression "sweep it under the rug."
Agent and buyer show up unannounced at the front door? (It happens.) No problem! Just give me a minute to take off my sock and run it along the foyer baseboard. I'll also need to toss all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, right on top of the clean ones I haven't gotten around to unloading. Oh, and these stacks of coupons spread out across the living room rug? Easy – I'll stuff them under my bed. That's what dust ruffles are for.
There are houses that are neat, and there are houses that are clean. Some people with hired help and/or no kids probably have houses that are neat and clean. Me, I had to settle for one or the other, and I chose neat.
My house looks good, as long as you don't look too closely. If you were to examine the window blinds, you'd see how much dust can build up between approximately annual wipe-downs. It's a lot. It’s evidence of entropy.
I don't own a mop, I don't use bleach, and I certainly don't lift furniture to vacuum.
Baby wipes are my main cleaning tool. They probably don't do a thing to fight germs, but they're cheap and convenient and they eliminate stickiness no matter the source. And thanks to that baby I mentioned, a stash is always nearby.
My mom is the opposite: She chooses clean over uncluttered. She might have a lot of knickknacks on her entertainment center, but they all get dusted every week. She uses baby wipes on baby bottoms and that's about it. Needless to say, she does own a mop, she uses it every Friday, and if you ate off of her floor, it would be OK.
There is one exception to my neat-over-clean rule: the guest bathroom. Sometime, somewhere, I read that if you're expecting company and are short on cleaning time, focus on the bathroom. The theory being that behind closed doors, people do things they wouldn't do out in the open. They might pull back your shower curtain for no reason but pure nosiness, and if there's soap scum, it will have nowhere to hide.
Now, randomly perusing people's medicine cabinets is not my idea of a good time. I'd rather finish my bathroom business and get back to the party. I think most of my friends would say the same. But my guest bathroom always puts its best foot forward. Because sometimes people surprise you.
Agent and buyer show up unannounced at the front door? (It happens.) No problem! Just give me a minute to take off my sock and run it along the foyer baseboard. I'll also need to toss all the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, right on top of the clean ones I haven't gotten around to unloading. Oh, and these stacks of coupons spread out across the living room rug? Easy – I'll stuff them under my bed. That's what dust ruffles are for.
There are houses that are neat, and there are houses that are clean. Some people with hired help and/or no kids probably have houses that are neat and clean. Me, I had to settle for one or the other, and I chose neat.
My house looks good, as long as you don't look too closely. If you were to examine the window blinds, you'd see how much dust can build up between approximately annual wipe-downs. It's a lot. It’s evidence of entropy.
I don't own a mop, I don't use bleach, and I certainly don't lift furniture to vacuum.
Baby wipes are my main cleaning tool. They probably don't do a thing to fight germs, but they're cheap and convenient and they eliminate stickiness no matter the source. And thanks to that baby I mentioned, a stash is always nearby.
My mom is the opposite: She chooses clean over uncluttered. She might have a lot of knickknacks on her entertainment center, but they all get dusted every week. She uses baby wipes on baby bottoms and that's about it. Needless to say, she does own a mop, she uses it every Friday, and if you ate off of her floor, it would be OK.
There is one exception to my neat-over-clean rule: the guest bathroom. Sometime, somewhere, I read that if you're expecting company and are short on cleaning time, focus on the bathroom. The theory being that behind closed doors, people do things they wouldn't do out in the open. They might pull back your shower curtain for no reason but pure nosiness, and if there's soap scum, it will have nowhere to hide.
Now, randomly perusing people's medicine cabinets is not my idea of a good time. I'd rather finish my bathroom business and get back to the party. I think most of my friends would say the same. But my guest bathroom always puts its best foot forward. Because sometimes people surprise you.
Friday, April 16, 2010
We can text if you want to
A week or two ago I got a new cell phone. Just about everyone knows how much I dislike phones in general and cell phones in particular so it might surprise you that I bothered to get a new one. But really it was no bother. My two years with the old phone were up, so it was free, and Matt picked it out, ordered it and set it up for me.The only part that was a pain was transferring all my contacts, but I did it over a couple of hours one night while half-watching TV with Matt. Most shows demand and deserve no more than half your attention anyway.
I have never jumped on the texting bandwagon. For one thing, I didn't have free texting until maybe six months ago. I never initiated texting, and every time someone texted me it cost me 20 cents. Rarely is a text worth 20 cents. "It's a girl!" Yes. "Happy Presidents Day!" No.
Once we switched to a plan that included free texting I no longer minded receiving texts, but I still rarely responded to them. My bare-bones phone didn't have a QWERTY keyboard, so it could easily take me five minutes to write two or three sentences. So much easier just to email or, yes, call.
However, have you ever tried to get people to stop texting you? Good luck. This is why I told Matt that whatever phone he picked out for me had to have a QWERTY keyboard so I could respond more easily. Not necessarily sooner, mind you -- like my old phone, my new phone's primary residence is my car.
But now if I'm stuck at a stop light I can use that time to text back my hair girl that yes, I love the color and cut, still not sure about the bangs, but I will like them more when they grow a little, and thanks again for being so flexible about letting Claire come with me. Whereas three weeks ago I would have either ignored her text or painstakingly typed out "Great thanks" (because it was too much trouble to use punctuation with my old phone).
Technology is supposed to make your life easier, so here's to the Samsung Exclaim for a job well done.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Procrastinating
I don't know what is wrong with me but I am so uninspired to write right now! I have an article due that I've been procrastinating for a month and now I really need to get going on it, and not only is Claire asleep but Mom and Dad are here just waiting for her to wake up so they can play with her, and what am I doing? Blogging! No one pays me to blog! I wonder what it says about me that I don't work well without a deadline. Probably nothing good. Anyway, since I'm here ...
Yesterday I went Dumpster diving. (Did you know Dumpster's a proper noun, just like Kleenex and Band-Aid and SheetRock? Technically I should refer to these as trash bin and facial tissue and adhesive bandage and gypsum wallboard. But trash bin diving isn't half as catchy.)
I have, of course, done this before, but always for free magazines to read. Yesterday I was in search of coupons and I was really happy to find a decent amount. About half of them were ones I'd heard about but didn't have because last month my Sunday paper wasn't delivered for three weeks in a row.
On an unrelated topic, I have had the best luck with books this month, after quite a disappointing dry spell. I'm reading them very slowly because usually the only chance I have to read for fun is during my nightly breast pumping session (lovely). I highly recommend "A Praying Life," "Olive Kitteridge" and "Memoirs of a Geisha." I also read "Resilience" by Elizabeth Edwards and liked it but I don't know if I believe any of it -- I have been so disillusioned by the Edwardses. Ugh.
OK, I think I'll try to work on my real work now.
Yesterday I went Dumpster diving. (Did you know Dumpster's a proper noun, just like Kleenex and Band-Aid and SheetRock? Technically I should refer to these as trash bin and facial tissue and adhesive bandage and gypsum wallboard. But trash bin diving isn't half as catchy.)
I have, of course, done this before, but always for free magazines to read. Yesterday I was in search of coupons and I was really happy to find a decent amount. About half of them were ones I'd heard about but didn't have because last month my Sunday paper wasn't delivered for three weeks in a row.
On an unrelated topic, I have had the best luck with books this month, after quite a disappointing dry spell. I'm reading them very slowly because usually the only chance I have to read for fun is during my nightly breast pumping session (lovely). I highly recommend "A Praying Life," "Olive Kitteridge" and "Memoirs of a Geisha." I also read "Resilience" by Elizabeth Edwards and liked it but I don't know if I believe any of it -- I have been so disillusioned by the Edwardses. Ugh.
OK, I think I'll try to work on my real work now.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Elevenish too many
Maybe a year ago I blogged about having too many blogs. At the time it was, I think, seven (mostly inactive). That was nuts.
Just now, as I was logging in to write, I realized that the current count is TWELVE. What the what?! (As Liz Lemon would say.)
- this blog
- baby blog (merged with this blog)
- round 1 of small-group blog (before I decided to use Blogger instead)
- round 2 of small-group blog (before I abandoned it for email updates)
- short-lived NaNovWriMo 2008 attempt
- one at jenniferdarekirby.blogspot.com that I just started, I guess, to claim the name. I've never posted to it.
- Dad's retirement party blog
- classified
- CouplesCourt.com
- journalism portfolio
- 2009 photo blog (fell by the wayside)
- blog I semi-started one day when I thought it would be fun to sell furniture I painted online
I could easily add at least three more -- a running journal, a recipe blog and a blog focused on my 101-things list -- if I were less lazy and didn't already spend too much time on the computer.
This should clear up any lingering confusion about whether I'm a dork.
Just now, as I was logging in to write, I realized that the current count is TWELVE. What the what?! (As Liz Lemon would say.)
- this blog
- baby blog (merged with this blog)
- round 1 of small-group blog (before I decided to use Blogger instead)
- round 2 of small-group blog (before I abandoned it for email updates)
- short-lived NaNovWriMo 2008 attempt
- one at jenniferdarekirby.blogspot.com that I just started, I guess, to claim the name. I've never posted to it.
- Dad's retirement party blog
- classified
- CouplesCourt.com
- journalism portfolio
- 2009 photo blog (fell by the wayside)
- blog I semi-started one day when I thought it would be fun to sell furniture I painted online
I could easily add at least three more -- a running journal, a recipe blog and a blog focused on my 101-things list -- if I were less lazy and didn't already spend too much time on the computer.
This should clear up any lingering confusion about whether I'm a dork.
Monday, October 5, 2009
101-things update
The great pizza-slice debate. Have I written about this before? If so, I apologize, but it came up again while we were laying sod last week, and it's killing me.Picture a slice of pizza. If someone told you to take a bite from the top of it, would you bite at the pointy end or at the crust? Please leave a comment with your answer and whether you're male or female.
The rest of this post is a draft I wrote a full month ago but apparently never published. Oops.
I just gave a much-needed update to my poor neglected 101-things list. Since I started this project way back in November 2007, I've come to see that some of my items were way too ambitious (becoming fluent in Spanish), way too ambitious as well as entirely unnecessary (memorizing the location and name of all the world's countries, capitals, mountain ranges and bodies of water), or simply so unappealing that I've decided not to try (going vegetarian for two weeks).
Others are hard to measure (do I genuinely like and understand football? Am I truly confident and competent when parallel parking)? How do I treat the item about trying every class at the gym, when I no longer have a gym membership? I didn't plant a tree for Arbor Day this year, but last year I planted 10; can I check it off my list?
I've erred on the conservative side, not considering things completed if there's any doubt. But awhile ago Matt went through the list and declared I was being too strict. I may not have gone through my closet one particular time and done a massive clean-out of clothes that don't look good on me, for example, but I do this on a smaller scale every few months, so the effect -- a closet full of clothes I actually like and wear -- is the same.
So with the full support of the person whose job it is to keep me honest, I'm checking off:
11. Get published in a non-local magazine
28. Learn to really understand (and like?) football
58. Make a list of all the words I still don't know how to pronounce and look up their pronunciations
59. Go through my closet and donate all the clothes that don't look good on me
61. Keep a maintenance log when I get a new car
(I'm not quite convinced I'm a confident parallel parker. If I were, I'd know for sure, right?)
That puts me right around the halfway point. Several of my freebies, such as finishing my Clinique Happy Heart and memorizing the 12's times table, are still not done, but they will be. I'm very optimistic about others, such as visiting someplace with a whole lot of snow on the ground (BURLINGTON! OMAHA!) and getting rid of my toenail fungus (I found out about a pill you can take, but I have to wait until I'm done breastfeeding). And the ones that, in retrospect, were ridiculous to include (learning shorthand), I'm comfortable writing off as a reason to donate to World Vision -- my punishment, per No. 100.
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