As I've got a boring Saturday morning (with cartoons on in the background), I filled out a little question sheet.
1) Can you cook? Yes, three things only: cookies, breakfasts, and the occasional dinner item.
2) What was your dream growing up? To be a librarian.
3) What talent do you wish you had? Cutting in a straight line.
4)Favorite vegetable? Potatoes. Then tomatoes, broccoli, and if I'm really in the mood: brussel sprouts. Yum.
5)What was the last book you read? Through a Glass Darkly. Very long and kinda boring.
6)What zodiac sign are you? Aries
7)Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? No tatoos yet. Piercings, yes: ears, nose, belly button.
8)Worst Habit? not scheduling free time then getting overly pissy that I always have things to do.
9)What is your favorite sport? To watch: lacrosse. Men hitting each other with sticks while dressed up like Spongebob Squarepants. What's not to like?
To play: skeeball. I suck at it but I'm a determined player who is willing to practice.
10)Negative or Optimistic attitude? Optimistic unless I'm cranky.
11)What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator ? As long as it's not plummeting downward, probably hang out until rescued.
12)Do you have any pets? Dylan the cat and two fish: Fuck-em and Bubbles.
13)What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly? I'd give you the two-second tour (I still live in a garage) and pull out the air mattress (garages don't have multiple bedrooms).
14)Do you think clowns are cute or scary? Hmm. I never really thought about clowns before. They're like juniper bushes: they show up in your yard sometimes, some people really hate them, and they smell like gin.
15)If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be? My manly shoulders. I look like a football player.
16)Bottle or Draft? Draft.
17)If you won £10,000 pounds today, what would you do with it? I'm bad at converting money. I think that's like $20,000 in U.S. dollars. I'd pay off student loans and go on a trip somewhere. Like Iceland.
18)What's your favorite place to hang at? I prefer to hang out. At the Mountain Sun brewery in Boulder.
19)Do you believe in ghosts? I believe that the residue of those you love stick around as long as you need them. Which is ghost-like I suppose.
20)Favorite thing to do in your spare time? practice cello, hike, write, and nap.
21)Do you swear a lot? Fuck, yeah!
22)Biggest pet peeve? Stupidity.
23)In one word, how would you describe yourself? Judgemental. It's not always a bad thing.
24)Do you believe/appreciate romance? Sure.
25)If you could spend 12 hours with me and ask/do anything you like, what would it be? Tour your favorite places. It's always enlightening to see the favorite places of other people. It's also enlightening to see where they grew up, too. It's a great big "Ah Ha, I understand!" moment.
26)Do you believe in God? I'm agnostic. I'm not afraid of saying "I don't know." Turns out I could be considered agnostic in many areas of life. Especially when strangers ask me for directions.
27)Will you repost this? The cartoon in the background just preached the moral "Don't break promises." In the spirit of Saturday morning cartoon ethics, I refuse to promise that I'll post this and make you do something you may not like to do. I need coffee because I'm getting too abstract.
An Erinku:
water glass
slightly damp
balanced carefully
near edge
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Watch My Language
I look like a tea-drinking, good-girl, librarian. I know this. But the truth is, I'm none of these things. I've even spent a good many years doing many bad things to off-set this unfortunate aura. I thought of this today as I bounced off the corner of my work desk. I think I said, "Oh, jeez." Which, for me, is the weakest curse word I can come up with.
As I am nowhere near G-rated in my language, this got me to thinking about self-censorship. I had a teacher in high school who was notorious for swearing in class (think hell and damn, not the big boys). One day, some mild-mannered person did something and said "Oh, Dang!" The teacher stopped class and said, "if you feel like saying DAMN, and are thinking DAMN but say dang, it really doesn't matter what word you use to replace it. You're still swearing."
I wasn't really thinking "Oh, jeez" when I whacked the desk. I was actually thinking, "fucking hell, not again!" However. My day job is a professional-type place where saying "Ohmygod" causes people to flinch (and I enjoy it enough that I watch expectantly every time the word comes out), and bad words, like shit, are whispered while hoping other people don't hear or aren't offended. This is my first job like this. I'm used to the profanity flying through the air like so many spaghetti monsters.
I find I'm terribly democratic in my language. All words are equal in my sight and have the exact same chance of being used throughout my day. Even words I can't pronounce. I almost got in a fight once in class because there was a word I wouldn't use (which still makes me blush a little, it refers to a body part that is not the elbow) and someone called me out on it. Seriously called me out, like going to punch me because I wouldn't use it. I finally spit it out, blushing a brilliant shade of neon and ended the fight. The teacher was amused. Going to grad school for writing and language will lead to these sorts of things sometimes.
And while words have power, I would rather harness them for evil (and making people flinch) instead of being terrified by using the word that exactly expresses how I feel: hungry.
An Erinku:
frosty
early morning
car windows
broken scraper
As I am nowhere near G-rated in my language, this got me to thinking about self-censorship. I had a teacher in high school who was notorious for swearing in class (think hell and damn, not the big boys). One day, some mild-mannered person did something and said "Oh, Dang!" The teacher stopped class and said, "if you feel like saying DAMN, and are thinking DAMN but say dang, it really doesn't matter what word you use to replace it. You're still swearing."
I wasn't really thinking "Oh, jeez" when I whacked the desk. I was actually thinking, "fucking hell, not again!" However. My day job is a professional-type place where saying "Ohmygod" causes people to flinch (and I enjoy it enough that I watch expectantly every time the word comes out), and bad words, like shit, are whispered while hoping other people don't hear or aren't offended. This is my first job like this. I'm used to the profanity flying through the air like so many spaghetti monsters.
I find I'm terribly democratic in my language. All words are equal in my sight and have the exact same chance of being used throughout my day. Even words I can't pronounce. I almost got in a fight once in class because there was a word I wouldn't use (which still makes me blush a little, it refers to a body part that is not the elbow) and someone called me out on it. Seriously called me out, like going to punch me because I wouldn't use it. I finally spit it out, blushing a brilliant shade of neon and ended the fight. The teacher was amused. Going to grad school for writing and language will lead to these sorts of things sometimes.
And while words have power, I would rather harness them for evil (and making people flinch) instead of being terrified by using the word that exactly expresses how I feel: hungry.
An Erinku:
frosty
early morning
car windows
broken scraper
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Mandatory Fun
Yesterday, I dressed mildly like a samurai. This was unintentional at first. As I had a day full of social events (several parties, a brunch, etc.), I decided that I could work the samurai look all day. For the second party I went to yesterday early afternoon, which was mandatory (which begs the question, how fun can a mandatory party be?), I accented the samurai look as much as I could.
These same hosts at a previous mandatory party commented on the previous outfit I wore, "Well, that's an interesting choice." Upon which, I instantly looked down to make sure I didn't have a boob or two showing or that my name tag hadn't fallen off. However, my various bits and parts were covered and labeled. As I'm the most modest prude north of the south pole, my bits and parts were, in fact, quite decently covered by my pretty, flowy tan dress. While I still can't figure out their comment from that day, my goal has now been focused to making these mandatory hosts comment on my fashion at every single mandatory opportunity. Hence, working the samurai look.
I have been saddened for a day now that I have no fake swords in my possession. It would have topped off my outfit and I could have totally passed every bit off as a Halloween costume (as opposed to real clothes that live in my closet). In spite of my lack of samurai sword, I did manage to get a "Hmmm" from the mandatory hosts and a few looks from party-goers. To the people I liked at the party, I explained that I was going to a costume party after this mandatory party (true) and that they shouldn't worry about me routinely dressing oddly (false).
I was disappointed by the "Hmm" and the hosts' exchanged looks. Perhaps they didn't have a large enough audience for their clever, snide comments. Or perhaps I've started a trend of dressing as a samurai on a lovely fall day and I'll see them next donning magic pants and fitted tops. Who knows?
At the costume party, instead of a sword, I brought what I thought was a yard stick. It was only two feet long.
An Erinku:
o shoulder
you move
a little bit
fabulous!
These same hosts at a previous mandatory party commented on the previous outfit I wore, "Well, that's an interesting choice." Upon which, I instantly looked down to make sure I didn't have a boob or two showing or that my name tag hadn't fallen off. However, my various bits and parts were covered and labeled. As I'm the most modest prude north of the south pole, my bits and parts were, in fact, quite decently covered by my pretty, flowy tan dress. While I still can't figure out their comment from that day, my goal has now been focused to making these mandatory hosts comment on my fashion at every single mandatory opportunity. Hence, working the samurai look.
I have been saddened for a day now that I have no fake swords in my possession. It would have topped off my outfit and I could have totally passed every bit off as a Halloween costume (as opposed to real clothes that live in my closet). In spite of my lack of samurai sword, I did manage to get a "Hmmm" from the mandatory hosts and a few looks from party-goers. To the people I liked at the party, I explained that I was going to a costume party after this mandatory party (true) and that they shouldn't worry about me routinely dressing oddly (false).
I was disappointed by the "Hmm" and the hosts' exchanged looks. Perhaps they didn't have a large enough audience for their clever, snide comments. Or perhaps I've started a trend of dressing as a samurai on a lovely fall day and I'll see them next donning magic pants and fitted tops. Who knows?
At the costume party, instead of a sword, I brought what I thought was a yard stick. It was only two feet long.
An Erinku:
o shoulder
you move
a little bit
fabulous!
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Smuggery
I've recently been around some serious musicians and I've noticed two things:
1. They don't smile. Ever.
2. If they play cello, they will drill a hole in the floor instead of using an end-pin anchor.
I've steered away from using my cello as a drill because people generally don't like little holes in the floor/stage. I feel as if I missed some great movement in the cello world which shuns anyone who doesn't destroy property to play music.
As for number one, I start to wonder how serious a musician I can be because I smile when people applaud for me. The most recent example was someone who, at best, smirked at the applause. It really more like disdain for the audience.
I know that my applause slowed down significantly when I saw his/her face. However, it did make me very happy that s/he sounded like a moron when s/he spoke. There were a lot of very short words interspersed with many ands, ums, and ahs. Perhaps playing well was the only place s/he could feel superior because public speaking will never be his/her strong point. Everyone has a flaw and mine is writing with smugness.
Moral of today's story: Since you asked me for a favor, please don't nag repeatedly to see if I've done it. I have and you're cut off.
An Erinku:
blanket
covering chair
harder than
expected
1. They don't smile. Ever.
2. If they play cello, they will drill a hole in the floor instead of using an end-pin anchor.
I've steered away from using my cello as a drill because people generally don't like little holes in the floor/stage. I feel as if I missed some great movement in the cello world which shuns anyone who doesn't destroy property to play music.
As for number one, I start to wonder how serious a musician I can be because I smile when people applaud for me. The most recent example was someone who, at best, smirked at the applause. It really more like disdain for the audience.
I know that my applause slowed down significantly when I saw his/her face. However, it did make me very happy that s/he sounded like a moron when s/he spoke. There were a lot of very short words interspersed with many ands, ums, and ahs. Perhaps playing well was the only place s/he could feel superior because public speaking will never be his/her strong point. Everyone has a flaw and mine is writing with smugness.
Moral of today's story: Since you asked me for a favor, please don't nag repeatedly to see if I've done it. I have and you're cut off.
An Erinku:
blanket
covering chair
harder than
expected
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
From the Diary of the Onion Lady
Real adventures from another point of view.
"Dear Diary,
Still smell like rancid, fried onions. Still practicing not washing my feet. Hooray, I can't smell myself, right? Today after stinking up Denver (or so I'm told), I decided to ride the express bus home.
I wanted to sit in the back because there's usually more room on the back bench, and yes, only four people were on it! Hooray, right? There was a cranky-looking girl in the middle with longish red hair and she could scoot over by the guy with the laptop. She seemed hesitant to share the bench and once the bus started, my boobs aiming right for her head convinced her to scoot it, right?
Love the express bus because you ride for like 20 miles without a stop. So cranky girl was smooshed up against laptop guy. She was covering her nose by pretending to rest her face on her fist, but I could tell. Onions and stinky feet, right Diary? But then she started rocking a bit from side to side, like she didn't want to be by laptop guy but I wasn't a better alternative. Get this, Diary, it turns out laptop guy was watching PORN on the bus!! Ha, ha cranky girl, right?!
I would occasionally adjust myself and wiggle around and send up a cloud of stink just for fun. Cranky girl closed her eyes and turned up her iPod REALLY LOUD. It sounded like modest mouse or something. She kept making noises like she wanted to say something, but then would clear her throat. I've never seen anyone dart up the bus aisle once the stop came. She tripped over three people, right?
Man, Diary, what a day! I think I'll have some more onion rings for dinner, right?"
An Erinku:
gasping
fresh air
loud music
LOVE the bus
"Dear Diary,
Still smell like rancid, fried onions. Still practicing not washing my feet. Hooray, I can't smell myself, right? Today after stinking up Denver (or so I'm told), I decided to ride the express bus home.
I wanted to sit in the back because there's usually more room on the back bench, and yes, only four people were on it! Hooray, right? There was a cranky-looking girl in the middle with longish red hair and she could scoot over by the guy with the laptop. She seemed hesitant to share the bench and once the bus started, my boobs aiming right for her head convinced her to scoot it, right?
Love the express bus because you ride for like 20 miles without a stop. So cranky girl was smooshed up against laptop guy. She was covering her nose by pretending to rest her face on her fist, but I could tell. Onions and stinky feet, right Diary? But then she started rocking a bit from side to side, like she didn't want to be by laptop guy but I wasn't a better alternative. Get this, Diary, it turns out laptop guy was watching PORN on the bus!! Ha, ha cranky girl, right?!
I would occasionally adjust myself and wiggle around and send up a cloud of stink just for fun. Cranky girl closed her eyes and turned up her iPod REALLY LOUD. It sounded like modest mouse or something. She kept making noises like she wanted to say something, but then would clear her throat. I've never seen anyone dart up the bus aisle once the stop came. She tripped over three people, right?
Man, Diary, what a day! I think I'll have some more onion rings for dinner, right?"
An Erinku:
gasping
fresh air
loud music
LOVE the bus
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Recycling Odds
Today, while being a good hippie girl and recycling, I lost in an encounter with a small pole/stick/metallic thing sticking out of the ground. Said object was maybe a foot tall and serves absolutely no purpose other than bashing into people's shins when they try to recycle. I made a spectactular stumble, my eyes watered, I bled for a long while, and after hours of keeping ice on it, it still hurts like hell.
I think that sort of negative enforcement can explain why the University doesn't recycle as much as it should. My favorite example was someone explaining how they like to reuse folders as a way of helping the environment, all while throwing the paper contents of the folders into the garbage can. Paper recycles. And foot tall metallic sticks serve no purpose.
Moral of today's story: this will be funny when the swelling goes down.
An Erinku (in gimpiness):
like rice grains, spilled
like free doughnuts, eaten
like found pen, lost
easily distracted
I think that sort of negative enforcement can explain why the University doesn't recycle as much as it should. My favorite example was someone explaining how they like to reuse folders as a way of helping the environment, all while throwing the paper contents of the folders into the garbage can. Paper recycles. And foot tall metallic sticks serve no purpose.
Moral of today's story: this will be funny when the swelling goes down.
An Erinku (in gimpiness):
like rice grains, spilled
like free doughnuts, eaten
like found pen, lost
easily distracted
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
I AM...
Today, while walking across the University campus, I was thinking about how I'm clumsy. I then started noticing that someone had written "I AM..." across the brick path. Again and again all the way to my work. There is no deep, metaphoric reason I noticed. My first thought, keeping in line with my original thinking train, was "I AM CLUMSY." Then, I started filling in the blanks (or elipses to be specific) with other nouns and verbs. I'm a big fan of Mad Libs.
Some of the nouns and verbs were funny and since I routinely make myself laugh, I laughed...while walking alone down the sidewalk. I routinely have sidewalks to myself as people don't want to walk near the girl laughing aloud at nothing. Sadly, as I've had a whole day since this morning, the nouns and verbs wouldn't be funny out of context. They aren't funny now. What is funny is this morning I toasted an english muffin in a desparate attempt at breakfast. As my peanut butter was moldy (ucky), I tried to eat said english muffin plain. Plain english muffins are disgusting and I'm up way too late.
Moral of today's story: The smallest amount of change you can receive that uses all the common coins is $0.41. I miss having the cents symbol on my keyboard.
An Erinku:
the word for the
warm feeling from sitting in
someone else's
vacated seat
Some of the nouns and verbs were funny and since I routinely make myself laugh, I laughed...while walking alone down the sidewalk. I routinely have sidewalks to myself as people don't want to walk near the girl laughing aloud at nothing. Sadly, as I've had a whole day since this morning, the nouns and verbs wouldn't be funny out of context. They aren't funny now. What is funny is this morning I toasted an english muffin in a desparate attempt at breakfast. As my peanut butter was moldy (ucky), I tried to eat said english muffin plain. Plain english muffins are disgusting and I'm up way too late.
Moral of today's story: The smallest amount of change you can receive that uses all the common coins is $0.41. I miss having the cents symbol on my keyboard.
An Erinku:
the word for the
warm feeling from sitting in
someone else's
vacated seat
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