Old Haunts

While they haunt my everyday life, it has been a while since I pondered the multiple evils that are encompassed by my nemesises (nemesi? nemesissies?). My enemies I suppose. They are bouncy, hyper little things that I never saw until college, thus ending a wonderful 18 year run of being squirrel-free. I have a squirrel outside my window at the day job who is slowly digging a squirrel-shaped tunnel towards my office while gazing malevolently at me. I suspect it is part of a huge evil plan. Today, as he industriously flung dirt while alternately standing on his tip-toes to watch my reaction, I opened my window and yelled, “I see you squirrel! What are you doing? I SEE YOU!!”

It turns out that when I’m pre-coffee, my yells are louder than I think. It’s all part of their evil little plan.

An Erinku:
yellow postcard
advertising something
printed side
down

Unappreciated Talents (pre-coffee)

Last night, I was wandering about giving post-margarita tours of the university to people who worked in another part of the university. I decided to be like a real tour guide and walk backwards while talking. This story has a predictable ending. What I did discover is that while you can swerve around a telephone pole, there are sometimes cables attached to it that will catch your ankles.
This made me appreciate those folks who can talk about surroundings while walking backwards up stairs, across streets, and around corners. I started to wonder how many random skills there are that go unappreciated. I've so far come up with three while being pre-second-cup-of-coffee.

1. Tight rope walkers. I don't know how someone discovers they have this talent. I can recall all zero times in my life where I've needed to walk across anything on a piece of rope.

2. Fire breathers/sword swallowers. Again, I don't know how they discovered this talent. Or exactly how one would decide to practice such things. Yet, there are people who do this.

3. Taxes. Seriously. I can actually feel my blood pressure rise just sitting down with the stupid booklet. Pulling out the calculator makes it that much worse. Speaking of which, I'd better find a stamp and get that stuff mailed out.
My coffee cup is empty and yet I feel no smarter. Perhaps I can't find wisdom from a cup of ground-up, burnt beans soaked in water...but I try anyways.

An Erinku! (More like a Haiku instead of Sodoku):
spoon
resting on floor
I'll take you
to your home.

Reflections

I recently made a horrifying discovery that I’m not quite over yet. While thinking of myself in the abstract, I wondered what Jane Austen heroine I most closely resembled. This was not a Facebook quiz, nor was it prompted by Cosmo. I just read a lot and tend to identify with various characters. I was mildly hoping to think I was like Elizabeth Bennet with a snappy answer to snide remarks. I might resemble a Margaret Dashwood running away from cranky strangers. I could even maybe see myself as a highly repressed Lydia Bennet, waiting for my trampy side to come out for a year-long spin. But I figured out who I most closely resemble: Fanny Price. I shrieked after this realization, knowing full well that Fanny doesn’t shriek. It didn’t help.

It suddenly made sense why I always wanted to kick her ass. Her weak way of dealing with bossy people, her reluctance to change her routine, her weepy attachments to stupid things all are a reflection of me. I’d like to say that at least I can talk with strangers without breaking down…most of the time. To assuage this trauma, I reminded myself that 31 is my year of standing up for myself. I resolved not to read Mansfield Park for at least twelve months and I shrieked again for good measure. Mrs. Norris just better watch out, I’m on an adventure.

An Erinku:
stapler
tipped sideways
does not
work as well.