Ok, I admit it. I've had some interesting notions in my time. I won't go into details, but let's just say that I've learned that I don't think they way other people do. In talking last night with my sister, I discovered yet another way in which I am not, shall we say, normal.
So now I'll start with the animated characters on whom I've had crushes, in order of crush occurrence.
Please note: most of these crushes still exist today. I would marry any one of these characters. 'cept #3. That would be weird.
1. Prince Phillip - man! what a beautiful man. And so terribly romantic - singing and dancing with Aurora. sigh.
2. Eric - pretty, but stupid. I mean, how many buxom red-heads does he know that he can't figure out that Ariel the person is Ariel the mermaid. But, he redeemed himself by fighting Ursula at the end.
3. Goliath- ok, so I realize that he's not human, but if he and the Detective can have a thing, I think I'm perfectly entitled to a crush.
3. Captain Shang - All I have to say about him is: WOW. If only he were real!
4. Sado Yasutora (Chad) - you never get to see much of his face, but still. He is one good looking high school student!
The above crushes were based on a combination of looks and personality. The following is a list of characters that weren't quite crush-worthy.
1. Prince Charming - cute, but no personality - although, he's got a good singing voice.
2. Aladdin - not cute, and although he's a good guy, he's a little annoying....
3. Ichigo - too young, but he has a really cool sword!
4. Xanatos - looks too much like Cmdr. Riker - this is probably because Jonathan Frakes did his voice. Interestingly enough, a lot of the voices from Gargoyles were done by Star Trek, TNG crew. Speaking of, Captain Picard is a character that is on my "Fictional, Non-Animated Characters on whom I have Crushes" list.
30 May 2006
29 May 2006
27 May 2006
and, we're back
I feel like a Zombie right now. I'm pretty sure that I'm not actually one of the living dead - although bits of skin and hair have been falling off lately, and my arms tend to stick out front when I walk...and I'm pretty sure that if you kicked my head it would go flying through the air. So maybe I am a Zombie. I don't know. All I know is that I am REALLY tired and I have NO idea what day it is, nor what time it is (I'm pretty sure that today is Memorial Day. I'm not positive, but they do keep talking about it on TV). I've been through 3 time changes in the last 2 weeks. I've slept in 5 different beds during that time too. One was a couch. It's been worth it though. I've been able to see my family. I may not have been the most coherent during those times, but we had fun anyway. Or maybe we had fun BECAUSE I wasn't coherent. That's more likely.
In Alabama we had a blast. Mostly we just hung out and chatted, played with the Kinder, drank coffee, ate all sorts of stuff that is bad for you, etc. It was great. We also went on a bunch of Gator rides. That was REALLY fun! All the kids really enjoyed it. Oh, who am I kidding. I really enjoyed it! I was giggling along with them.
I'm back in Philadelphia right now. I'm here for another week before I go through another time change. My body is not going to know up from down after this summer is over. So yeah, I'll try to post more often from now on. I don't know how much I'll have to say. There will probably be a lot of posts that read just "hey." Anyway, I hope you all are having a good summer.
In Alabama we had a blast. Mostly we just hung out and chatted, played with the Kinder, drank coffee, ate all sorts of stuff that is bad for you, etc. It was great. We also went on a bunch of Gator rides. That was REALLY fun! All the kids really enjoyed it. Oh, who am I kidding. I really enjoyed it! I was giggling along with them.
I'm back in Philadelphia right now. I'm here for another week before I go through another time change. My body is not going to know up from down after this summer is over. So yeah, I'll try to post more often from now on. I don't know how much I'll have to say. There will probably be a lot of posts that read just "hey." Anyway, I hope you all are having a good summer.
12 May 2006
I'm DONE, well kinda.
Finals are over. I found out that I got an A in my German 301 class. This is a surprise for me, because I was pretty sure that I had a very solid B. Still, I'm not complaining. This means that, unless I didn't get the 34% that I needed on my final to keep my A in German 300, I have a 4.0 this semester. Yay me! Unfortunately, I can't be on Dean's List, cuz I'm only taking 13 units this semester. I'll get the "hey, you were a slacker and only took 13 units, and it's not very hard to get a 4.0 with only 13 units, but we'll give you an award anyway" Honorable Mention Award. I am OK with that.
Today is my last day at work. In fact I am done in 4 hours and 43 minutes. I am very happy about this. I have worked in this office for three years. I've really enjoyed it. I seem to have been blessed with exceptionally good co-workers. But I'm ready for a change. I'm ready to start student teaching and see if this education thing is for me. I think it is, but who knows? I'm also ready to go to Germany.
So, here's the updated countdown: 2 days til I leave for Philly.
2 more days after that til Alabama.
3 weeks til I leave for Germany.
Yay!
Today is my last day at work. In fact I am done in 4 hours and 43 minutes. I am very happy about this. I have worked in this office for three years. I've really enjoyed it. I seem to have been blessed with exceptionally good co-workers. But I'm ready for a change. I'm ready to start student teaching and see if this education thing is for me. I think it is, but who knows? I'm also ready to go to Germany.
So, here's the updated countdown: 2 days til I leave for Philly.
2 more days after that til Alabama.
3 weeks til I leave for Germany.
Yay!
my most sincere apologies
I just want to apologize for the abrupt and rather stupid ending to my last post. I really had lost track of the time. On the upside, I think I did ok on my german test! I was planning on finishing the post, but unfortunately, that train of thought has left my head and I have no idea where I was going with it. That's probably ok though, it was getting kinda long. You'll just have to trust that I had a really cool and oh-so-witty ending planned. Happy Friday!!
10 May 2006
Public Trans-port-a-tion
Riding the bus is weird. Probably cuz I don't ride it very often. I rode it home last night, though, because I didn't want to have to come back and pick up my brother after midnight. The whole experience is just kinda surreal. First you get to the bus-stop. If somebody is there, do you talk to them? Do you sit on the same bench, or do you pretend to be cool and lean very casually up against the side of the overhang? That's a hard one to figure out. I usually pretend to be cool. I don't know why.
Then, wonder of wonders, the bus shows up. Forget trying to follow the little time schedules they give you. Nothing is ever on time. You all line up to get on the bus. Invariably there is that one person who exits through the front instead of the back, so you all have to back up so they can get off. I'm not judging, I've done it myself. I'm just saying. There's always one. Then, for me, there's the embarrassing moment of trying to remember where to insert the money/transfer card. It shouldn't be that hard, but like I said, I don't ride the bus very often, and each bus is enough different that I have to take a moment to think. It's really super hard for me to think when there are people behind me.
Then, you try to find a seat. Hopefully, there are a bunch of available seats, so that you don't have to sit next to anybody else. Nope, not today. So, you squeeze in between a dude in a baseball cap and an old lady reading a Russian newspaper. You are sitting sideways. This makes you a little nauseous, and your neck gets a cramp from looking to the side (which is really the front). You hold your body stiff. No relaxing. If you relax, you might *gasp* come into contact with somebody else *gasp*. Your neck hurts, so you turn it to the front (which is really the side of the bus). Shoot. There's somebody sitting right across from you. don't make eye contact! don't make eye contact! phew. That was close. You don't want to make eye contact. If you do, it will be with some crazy person who wants to get into a discussion with you of the merits of cardboard vs. plastic. That seems to be cardinal rule number 1. Don't make eye contact. So, you let your eyes lose focus and you get lost in your own thoughts. When you come to, you realize that you've been staring at some guy's crotch for the last 10 minutes. awkward.
You decide it will probably be a safer to read the inane signs posted above the seats. Some make sense: "No smoking", "No eating", "Don't forget your children/old people". Others are less clear "Be polite, don't take up more than one seat". Hmmm. Now, does this mean 'one person, one seat'? or does it mean that everybody on the bus is supposed to sit in the same seat? That would really kill the no eye contact rule, wouldn't it?
There is always one guy on the bus who is talking on his cell phone via a hands-free set. The conversation goes something like this "Go. Uh huh. uh huh. I'm important. Look at me, I'm riding the bus, talking on my hands-free. No. bleep bleep bleep bleep. Ok. Do you know what time it is?" You don't realize he's talking to you until he breaks the bubble barrier and pokes you in the arm. "it's 5:30." The phone conversation continues.
There are also always 4-5 teenagers on the bus. If they are girls, they laugh and giggle and whisper back and forth. If they are boys, they sit with one seat empty between them and don't talk, cuz that's the cool thing to do. If they are boys AND girls, there is a LOT more giggling. A lot more giggling.
HOLY CRAP!!! I have to study for a german final!! Good night! (I might decide to write more on this later. who knows?)
Then, wonder of wonders, the bus shows up. Forget trying to follow the little time schedules they give you. Nothing is ever on time. You all line up to get on the bus. Invariably there is that one person who exits through the front instead of the back, so you all have to back up so they can get off. I'm not judging, I've done it myself. I'm just saying. There's always one. Then, for me, there's the embarrassing moment of trying to remember where to insert the money/transfer card. It shouldn't be that hard, but like I said, I don't ride the bus very often, and each bus is enough different that I have to take a moment to think. It's really super hard for me to think when there are people behind me.
Then, you try to find a seat. Hopefully, there are a bunch of available seats, so that you don't have to sit next to anybody else. Nope, not today. So, you squeeze in between a dude in a baseball cap and an old lady reading a Russian newspaper. You are sitting sideways. This makes you a little nauseous, and your neck gets a cramp from looking to the side (which is really the front). You hold your body stiff. No relaxing. If you relax, you might *gasp* come into contact with somebody else *gasp*. Your neck hurts, so you turn it to the front (which is really the side of the bus). Shoot. There's somebody sitting right across from you. don't make eye contact! don't make eye contact! phew. That was close. You don't want to make eye contact. If you do, it will be with some crazy person who wants to get into a discussion with you of the merits of cardboard vs. plastic. That seems to be cardinal rule number 1. Don't make eye contact. So, you let your eyes lose focus and you get lost in your own thoughts. When you come to, you realize that you've been staring at some guy's crotch for the last 10 minutes. awkward.
You decide it will probably be a safer to read the inane signs posted above the seats. Some make sense: "No smoking", "No eating", "Don't forget your children/old people". Others are less clear "Be polite, don't take up more than one seat". Hmmm. Now, does this mean 'one person, one seat'? or does it mean that everybody on the bus is supposed to sit in the same seat? That would really kill the no eye contact rule, wouldn't it?
There is always one guy on the bus who is talking on his cell phone via a hands-free set. The conversation goes something like this "Go. Uh huh. uh huh. I'm important. Look at me, I'm riding the bus, talking on my hands-free. No. bleep bleep bleep bleep. Ok. Do you know what time it is?" You don't realize he's talking to you until he breaks the bubble barrier and pokes you in the arm. "it's 5:30." The phone conversation continues.
There are also always 4-5 teenagers on the bus. If they are girls, they laugh and giggle and whisper back and forth. If they are boys, they sit with one seat empty between them and don't talk, cuz that's the cool thing to do. If they are boys AND girls, there is a LOT more giggling. A lot more giggling.
HOLY CRAP!!! I have to study for a german final!! Good night! (I might decide to write more on this later. who knows?)
09 May 2006
So much for a Knight in Shining Armor
Chivalry is dead. Dead. Finito. Tot. You get the point. There is no knight. There is no Shining Armor. No White Horse. No riding off into the sunset. No grand passionate kiss. Nope. It's gone. I guess it must have existed once...I mean, obviously, Disney wouldn't have had such a profitable run if such a thing didn't exist once. The fact that they are clearly scraping the bottom of the barrel (Atlantis, anyone?) just proves my point. There is no chivalry anymore.
You're probably wondering if this tirade has a point. Well, it just so happens that it does. The other day, I was walking Diesel and we decided to go down a new road. We were just walking along. I would smile at people outside their houses, cuz it's only nice! and we were having a lovely walk. I got to a house and there were two largish guys standing outside talking. "Good evening" I said. Actually, that's too formal. I probably said something more like "Hey. How's it going?" They looked at me funny, but I'm used to that. People don't know what to do with a person who says hi for no reason. Ah well. At the next house, there was a St. Bernard standing at the gate. No big deal. It's a big gate. Nothing to worry about.
Until, suddenly, there IS something to worry about. All of a sudden, this ginormous dog nudges the gate open and is racing towards us. Well, naturally, I start screaming. I'm about to get eaten and so is Diesel. This dog looks like it could eat us both and still have room for seconds.
Well, size doesn't impress Diesel. It doesn't matter that this dog is the size of a small island. She is not about to let anybody intimidate her. So the fighting starts. I'm kicking and screaming. Dogs are growling and barking. I yell "CAN YOU GUYS HELP ME!!!!!!" Through the windows of the car that's between us, I see them turn towards me. Whew. help is on its....they go back to talking to each other. "CAN YOU GUYS HELP ME!!!!!" I scream, between kicking at the dog and yelling at it to get away.
Finally it backs off and I chuck my waterbottle at it. This, apparently, is a very scary thing. It races back to the safety of the yard. They two guys FINALLY show up and look at me like, "why were you screaming? there's nothing going on."
NOW, I was FURIOUS. I don't get that way very often, but I was MAD. Unfortunately, when I get mad, my thoughts are very incoherent (or, I should say, more incoherent than usual). Plus, my heart was racing and my dog was trying to get away from me and follow the St. Bernard so that she could give it the beating it deserved.
Very politely, I asked the guy if he wouldn't mind closing the gate so that I could walk by without the fear of Goliath screwing up his courage and deciding to attack again. So, very nonchalantly, the dude picks up this little plastic green egg crate. You know, the type that college kids use for shelves in their dorm rooms. This crate contains 3-4 medium sized rocks. Rocks that would really hurt if you dropped them on your foot, but not boulders. He props this against the gate.
So let me get this straight. You think that an EGG CRATE with ROCKS in it is going to keep a ST. BERNARD in the YARD??!?!?!
Well, we got home safely, and due to my inability to form a reasonable thought, so did those two guys. I have a really good speech in my head for them right now, though.
My story is over now, and my post is almost done, but I would just like to say one thing: I don't care what stupid people say. IF SOMEONE IS SCREAMING, HELP THEM. I don't think anybody would have a problem with that.
You're probably wondering if this tirade has a point. Well, it just so happens that it does. The other day, I was walking Diesel and we decided to go down a new road. We were just walking along. I would smile at people outside their houses, cuz it's only nice! and we were having a lovely walk. I got to a house and there were two largish guys standing outside talking. "Good evening" I said. Actually, that's too formal. I probably said something more like "Hey. How's it going?" They looked at me funny, but I'm used to that. People don't know what to do with a person who says hi for no reason. Ah well. At the next house, there was a St. Bernard standing at the gate. No big deal. It's a big gate. Nothing to worry about.
Until, suddenly, there IS something to worry about. All of a sudden, this ginormous dog nudges the gate open and is racing towards us. Well, naturally, I start screaming. I'm about to get eaten and so is Diesel. This dog looks like it could eat us both and still have room for seconds.
Well, size doesn't impress Diesel. It doesn't matter that this dog is the size of a small island. She is not about to let anybody intimidate her. So the fighting starts. I'm kicking and screaming. Dogs are growling and barking. I yell "CAN YOU GUYS HELP ME!!!!!!" Through the windows of the car that's between us, I see them turn towards me. Whew. help is on its....they go back to talking to each other. "CAN YOU GUYS HELP ME!!!!!" I scream, between kicking at the dog and yelling at it to get away.
Finally it backs off and I chuck my waterbottle at it. This, apparently, is a very scary thing. It races back to the safety of the yard. They two guys FINALLY show up and look at me like, "why were you screaming? there's nothing going on."
NOW, I was FURIOUS. I don't get that way very often, but I was MAD. Unfortunately, when I get mad, my thoughts are very incoherent (or, I should say, more incoherent than usual). Plus, my heart was racing and my dog was trying to get away from me and follow the St. Bernard so that she could give it the beating it deserved.
Very politely, I asked the guy if he wouldn't mind closing the gate so that I could walk by without the fear of Goliath screwing up his courage and deciding to attack again. So, very nonchalantly, the dude picks up this little plastic green egg crate. You know, the type that college kids use for shelves in their dorm rooms. This crate contains 3-4 medium sized rocks. Rocks that would really hurt if you dropped them on your foot, but not boulders. He props this against the gate.
So let me get this straight. You think that an EGG CRATE with ROCKS in it is going to keep a ST. BERNARD in the YARD??!?!?!
Well, we got home safely, and due to my inability to form a reasonable thought, so did those two guys. I have a really good speech in my head for them right now, though.
My story is over now, and my post is almost done, but I would just like to say one thing: I don't care what stupid people say. IF SOMEONE IS SCREAMING, HELP THEM. I don't think anybody would have a problem with that.
02 May 2006
Waaaggghhhh???!?!
So, after my previous post, I spoke with several people, all of whom were aghast at my behavior. I know. I'm evil. What can I say? But, in what has to be a strange, morbid coincidence, a few people asked the following question:
"Did you at least step on it?"
Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? WHO STEPS ON BIRDS???????????? Seriously. I may be mean and evil, but even I know that you DON'T STEP ON BIRDS!!!!! The justification for this was that I would have been putting the thing out of it's misery. Maybe so. Probably not. I think that death by squishing is probably just as bad as death by heatstroke.
Second of all, there is a size factor when it comes to stepping on things. For example, while it is perfectly acceptable to step on an ant, stepping on a Tarantula, something that could, if you missed, come back and do serious damage to you, is NOT advised. If something is the size of your FOOT, it is probably not a good idea TO STEP ON IT!!!! Aside from the obvious harm to which you are subjecting yourself by stepping on so large a thing, there is the ICK factor. Little bugs are not so icky to squish. Imagine the mess with something larger.
So, while I have not necessarily justified my actions of yesterday in which I did not rescue the bird, I think I may have effectively justified my decision to NOT STEP ON IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you.
"Did you at least step on it?"
Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? WHO STEPS ON BIRDS???????????? Seriously. I may be mean and evil, but even I know that you DON'T STEP ON BIRDS!!!!! The justification for this was that I would have been putting the thing out of it's misery. Maybe so. Probably not. I think that death by squishing is probably just as bad as death by heatstroke.
Second of all, there is a size factor when it comes to stepping on things. For example, while it is perfectly acceptable to step on an ant, stepping on a Tarantula, something that could, if you missed, come back and do serious damage to you, is NOT advised. If something is the size of your FOOT, it is probably not a good idea TO STEP ON IT!!!! Aside from the obvious harm to which you are subjecting yourself by stepping on so large a thing, there is the ICK factor. Little bugs are not so icky to squish. Imagine the mess with something larger.
So, while I have not necessarily justified my actions of yesterday in which I did not rescue the bird, I think I may have effectively justified my decision to NOT STEP ON IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you.
01 May 2006
Bye, Bye Birdie
I think I'm related to Satan.
Well, let me back up.
I am afraid of birds. Really afraid of them. I don't know why. Perhaps this fear stems from being pooped on by birds several times during Jr. High (which anyone will tell you are the Years of Torture. Jr. High kids are MEAN. 'nuff said.) Maybe this fear comes from the fact that birds are icky. Their cold, dead eyes. Their creepy legs. Beaks. (here is where you imagine a shiver of disgust. I don't know how to replicate one with a keyboard.) The only things I'm more afraid of than birds have 6-8 legs. I'm REALLY REALLY scared of those. I can be around birds. I don't like it. But I can do it. You get more than 4 legs and I will do my utmost (including creating ways of exiting that previously did not exist) to get away.
But I digress.
Today, I was sitting outside waiting for my brother to pick me up after work. I was sitting on the sidewalk reading, leaning against a chain link fence, with a palm tree overhead. I wasn't in the shade of the tree, but I was thinking of moving there. I sat where I was for a few more minutes, when all of a sudden. BAM. Something black and heavy hit the top of my book. I freaked out. My book and hands flailed in the air, trying to get rid of whatever it was. At the same time, I frantically looked around, trying to identify my assailant AND, I jumped up off the ground. The thought going through my head? TARANTULA!! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! RUNNNNN!!! nope. It was a baby bird. gross. I get up and move. Then I notice that other baby birds have fallen from this tree (their carcasses are littering the ground). Sad. It's a baby bird cemetery. Eww. I've been reading in a baby bird cemetery. So, I stand up. Oh great! Not only did the stupid thing FALL on me, but it POOPED on me too!!! I HATE BIRDS! The baby bird struggles on the ground. I shiver. Should I help it? I think. I'm not completely devoid of compassion. Naw. Maybe it's mama will come and help it. In the back of my mind I hear "Are you my mother?" sigh. Now it's flailing. It's on it's back, in the sun and can't get up. I should really....move my hand so I can't see it anymore. Another shiver. I hate birds. Thankfully, my moral dilemma ends when my brother pulls up. I get in the car and we drive off. I'll bet the bird is dead now. I feel kind of bad. Kind of.
Well, let me back up.
I am afraid of birds. Really afraid of them. I don't know why. Perhaps this fear stems from being pooped on by birds several times during Jr. High (which anyone will tell you are the Years of Torture. Jr. High kids are MEAN. 'nuff said.) Maybe this fear comes from the fact that birds are icky. Their cold, dead eyes. Their creepy legs. Beaks. (here is where you imagine a shiver of disgust. I don't know how to replicate one with a keyboard.) The only things I'm more afraid of than birds have 6-8 legs. I'm REALLY REALLY scared of those. I can be around birds. I don't like it. But I can do it. You get more than 4 legs and I will do my utmost (including creating ways of exiting that previously did not exist) to get away.
But I digress.
Today, I was sitting outside waiting for my brother to pick me up after work. I was sitting on the sidewalk reading, leaning against a chain link fence, with a palm tree overhead. I wasn't in the shade of the tree, but I was thinking of moving there. I sat where I was for a few more minutes, when all of a sudden. BAM. Something black and heavy hit the top of my book. I freaked out. My book and hands flailed in the air, trying to get rid of whatever it was. At the same time, I frantically looked around, trying to identify my assailant AND, I jumped up off the ground. The thought going through my head? TARANTULA!! AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! RUNNNNN!!! nope. It was a baby bird. gross. I get up and move. Then I notice that other baby birds have fallen from this tree (their carcasses are littering the ground). Sad. It's a baby bird cemetery. Eww. I've been reading in a baby bird cemetery. So, I stand up. Oh great! Not only did the stupid thing FALL on me, but it POOPED on me too!!! I HATE BIRDS! The baby bird struggles on the ground. I shiver. Should I help it? I think. I'm not completely devoid of compassion. Naw. Maybe it's mama will come and help it. In the back of my mind I hear "Are you my mother?" sigh. Now it's flailing. It's on it's back, in the sun and can't get up. I should really....move my hand so I can't see it anymore. Another shiver. I hate birds. Thankfully, my moral dilemma ends when my brother pulls up. I get in the car and we drive off. I'll bet the bird is dead now. I feel kind of bad. Kind of.
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