Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Tired, Busy, Down
I’d be really stressed if I weren’t so tired. The tiredness could be physical, as I’ve been aggressively resolved to getting back into my former shape (or better) via running, yoga, pilates, and the normal magazine page variety of exercises. It feels good to feel little processes running in my body since I’ve gotten it going, but it’s taking stuff outa me that coffee in the morning just can’t help.
I’m trying to get enough sleep, but I think I need more than I’m getting.
I’m pmsing which also makes a girl very tired, and in my case, weaker, and clumsy and blue.
It may be the Pill I’m on—many friends have been on my Pill and it made them depressed, moody and sad. I went off it for one month and felt GREAT physically and mentally except for the lurking fear of what can happen if one is not on the Pill.
I walk to work, takes about 20 minutes. It’s lovely for thinking but today I got stuck in a hamster wheel of negative thoughts. It’s too hot and sticky. I hate the men who look at me as I walk. I think about my high school reunion and how the organizers are so desperate they’re inviting the classes from before and after us. I wonder if they remember that Paul isn’t allowed to come to any school events ever, and if I’ll have to remind them. I think of how I should have made flyers of my face bruised and split, white of my eye turned completely red, so they’d remember, and really know. I was remembering how I had been defending Missy from him. Then I remember years later, saying cruel things to her, about all the ways she’d hurt me and not been a true friend. Remembering the way she told me she didn’t think I should get married to Joe “plus I have all these other weddings to go to” and I couldn’t believe she’d say that along with 7 other lame excuses, I thought she was being egocentric and lazy. I wonder if she’s going to the reunion and if I’ll apologize to her. Not for anything I said, but for how spitefully I said it, and also say yes, yes I divorced him 9 months later.
Mercifully I ran into someone I knew on the street and he stopped my train of thought.
I feel so tired and down. Can’t smile much, don’t feel like talking. Lots to do but I just want to put my head down on my desk and fall asleep to the sound of my breathing.
Here’s my horoscope for today =P
“ Horoscope: Music really can soothe the savage beast, Mia. And if you’re feeling rather savage yourself, turn on some tunes. Dance around, and sing loud and proud. You’ll be amazed at how much these activities can reduce stress and increase energy. Many find it incredibly therapeutic when times are tough and emotions run high. Try it for yourself, and expand your listening range to include many styles of music. You’ll be glad you did!”
Just today I forgot the Ani Difrano - Living in Clip cd that Maria was so lovely as to treat me to, but I’ll have to plug in the headphones and get into a different groove.
Friday, August 15, 2003
Oh What a Night
I’m sipping a soda, still feeling quite swirly from a fun night of drinking. Our ringleader came back to DC for a day to get her passport changed and a happy hour ensued. Very wonderfully like old times. Despite the unhealthy physical aspect it always feels so good emotionally. It’s the very embodiment of “I love you, man!” no, really “I love you, man!”
We’ve aged, gotten different jobs, and in a few cases, married off. The history, stupid jokes and inside information keep us tight, at least on nights like this. We form our own universe for a while.
“Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” is every toast. One girl’s neck always smells like cookies. One guy always gets his hair braided. Favorite stories are retold. Like the one about one of our sisters who was about to fight a girl in a wheelchair. The night always goes long. It always ends in kindness and the sort of hospitality where you already know where the glasses are kept, and probably the bedlinens and comfy shirts are too.
We’ve got our own personal photographer who takes many embarrassing and beautiful photos.
I took a load of photos last night that I still need to get off my camera. At least a few will get posted today.
Eventually I’ll make a gallery. Sorry about the delay but I need to work on the backend and format, and please somebody remind me how to make droplet in photoshop. Too many shuddering brain cells in my head right now.
Some images of last night =] peep the peeps
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Knit one, Blast two
Today has been a fun riot of adventure and tasks in addition to normal work.
A couple people in my office have gotten themselves the blaster virus. Yesterday I was one of nearly none who got the patch downloaded before MicrosoftStools was set upon by a deluge of their own making. So I worked with one of our engineers and made little take home kits for people, with the patch on disk and some instructions, in case folks still had the problem at home or something.
This was the MOST helpful site I have seen on the matter: http://www.visualante.org/msblast/main.htm
I haven’t turned my shameful PC on since I heard about the virus, even though I use a firewall, keep updated and don’t leave my computer connected.
I slink back to my glorious Mac like a unfaithful lover and say, “Pleeease Computer Machine, I love you, I always have! The Dell meant nothing to me. It was a clumsy oaf and never made me as happy as you do! Please take me back. Let’s take a trip to the internet?”
So that’s been fun.
And our most brilliant contractor chick who’s a frickin genious with frickin lazer beams coming out of her head has taught me the first foundations of knitting. Knit & Pearl. Woo! it’s oddly, fascinatingly addictive. She’s so cool she says, “soon you’ll be making long rectangles!” and I love how she’s talking about scarves but isn’t at all pretentious about it.
Scarves for everyone this Christmas! When i get better she’s going to teach me socks!
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
And I've Already Pissed Her Off
I’ve been at work for 35 minutes when I begin to write this. Early for me actually, to be here at 9am. I have a 10-6ish office.
Anyway. I was at my desk, trying to form thoughts around a “what’s the status of X ... X was supposed to go live 7/30” said the email.
Did I flake? I thought I did it. I remember doing it. Huh? This is the problem with a producer who’s gone on vacation. They come back and they are confused, naturally.
Then I vaguely hear a voice to my left, at the opening of my cube. I’m partially deaf in my left ear so I have to really switch my focus, if I can’t see the mouth that’s speaking. “Jeehye leaver phone”
huh?
“Did Jeehye leave her phone?” was what the person asked.
oh
As another aside, this person is a big interupter, and never uses your name to address you and get your attention. Never an “excuse me.”
“Why would I know that?” I ask, turning from my keyboard, still midthought on the X issue.
So The Interuptor jerks her head back, and puts up her hands in offense as she turns and walks away.
Dammit, now I’m annoyed that she’s pissed, but you can’t have a conversation with a late 30 something woman about politeness and protocal. She won’t understand or even try to hear anything other than an apology. Doesn’t matter really. I hardly talk to her except when she interupts me with random questions.
I turn back to my keyboard and monitor.
I check the server. I check the url. All is well with X. I finish the email I started, happy about X, but with a sicker feeling my in stomache. bad juju
Monday, August 11, 2003
Your Own Yogurt Experience
I just read this on the back of my Dannon yogurt, “
Room in every cup for your favorite mix-ins...Create your own yogurt experience.”
WTF?!!
I’m all for the yogurt experience but does this mean they now sell less in the little tub for the same money? Is this what’s counterbalancing when they go on sale, which I’m more sure is related to the fact that dairy goes bad.
Help! Does anyone have really old yogurt in the back of their fridge or in their crisper? No shame here—this is important research. This yogurt tub, the standard single serving, is 6oz. Did there used to be more? Or did marketers just think of a way to make the empty gaseous space a “bonus” for the consumer?
What does your yogurt say? When did the fantastic pleasure of the mix-in yogurt experience get added to the ‘information’ on the package?
Two things: I am digging plain yogurt with peace cereal and honey mixed in. nummy stuff. But right now I’m eating strawberry lowfat Dannon and I just dropped a yogurty strawberry piece onto my office chair. not nummy. But I still love me some fruit on the bottom, especially b/c of my point #2*.
*Point #2: It disturbs me that the pink natural coloring in the non fat Dannon strawberry-ish yogurt is made from the beetles they get dye from. Knowledge courtesy Fast Food Nation. Why would a company think that I prefer my food pink over not eating bugs? I don’t actually care, I just wish the FDA would make them put it right on the ingredient list.
If I were a marketer for Dannon, I would also indicate that the plastic resealable lids are great not just for when you don’t want to eat the whole thing, but for not smelling the yogurt go stinky as it sits in the trash can under your desk.
Ouch, I think I just felt my soul leave my body.
I finished The Secret Life of Bees last night. I really loved it. Man, did I cry through the last, oh.... ten pages, not to mention how I sporadically got weepy throughout the book. There have to be at least 4 chunks of quotes I’d like to ad to my favorites here.
[Technical Sidenote: I’m going to learn how to make a little database well of quotes and rotate them through with php. Please wish me luck.]
I have a weird thing with crying. I normally can’t, in a (probably) unhealthy way. But I cry for movies, tv, books, songs and occasionally when another person is crying. Sometimes I seek out things that will make me cry, especially if I have a cold. Nothing like spicy food and a good cry for the sinuses. There are certain chemicals released only by crying and it’s good for you.
The book has a lot to do with the bond of mothers and daughters (as the back cover will tell you), the tension, forgiveness. There’s a great quote about how hard forgiveness is, that made me laugh. I’d just botch it without the book here, so I’ll hold off til tonight when I’m home again.
I really want to recommend it to my mom but she’s not a big reader, and often takes things too literally. Perhaps it’s that she has a very complicated filter for which I still don’t completely understand the rules. It’s easier to keep something to myself than to proclaim its greatness only to have it pronounced “nice” in a polite way.
Oy. I was thinking earlier today about Newton’s first law of motion as a parallel to human feeling and behaviour. [sorry, behavior, i’m not in ireland yet.] When hurt, anger or even love begin they tend to keep going, on and on until a greater feeling sends it in another direction. Sometimes it happens slowly, like friction. Sometimes it’s abrupt.
Why is it so hard to let go of hurt or disappointment and let it be replaced with relief and understanding? Why is it easier to roll hard feelings out towards that which has offended us rather than roll the pain away to make room for healthier feelings? Perhaps because the hurt is ours, it becomes ourself, the armor and lense and language that we use.
Friday, August 08, 2003
Friday Five
Such good questions for the Friday Five. It inspires me to live some better answers.
1. What’s the last place you traveled to, outside your own home state/country?
Outside DC metro—Naples, FL. Outside the country—Ireland.
2. What’s the most bizarre/unusual thing that’s ever happened to you while traveling?
A spontaneous stop for crab in Maryland on the way to Massachusetts that left me in the back seat with dozens of live angry crabs reaching for my bare legs and feet.
3. If you could take off to anywhere, money and time being no object, where would you go?
Trek through Nepal then pass through China via Three Gorges
in the Yangtze, then Hong Kong, then Japan - all over.
4. Do you prefer traveling by plane, train or car?
Plane, despite how bad it’s become. I love the time of take off and landing for the feel of the huge engine and gear in motion. Most thrilling to me is the one second between the tires touching the ground and being suspended in air. A dream job of mine is bush pilot - maybe for my 2nd or 3rd career.
If I fly commercially one more time, my answer will change to car.
5. What’s the next place on your list to visit?
Athens, GA
Thursday, August 07, 2003
The day I saw Mel Gibson
Mel Gibson came to the Geographic today. I have a song in my head that sounds like conga: I-iii saw Mel GibSON, I-iii saw Mel GibSON. duntdunt dunt dunt dunt DA!
i-am a huge Gee-eeeEEK!
I’d only walked down to get lunch, but seeing the hubbub, asked the securty guard, who is also a woman, what was going on. We get dignitaries sometimes. Most recently Angelina Jolie was here. Once I walked right past Barbara Bush before I realized it was her.
“Mel Gibson is here,” she said, and smiled, “He’s up on the 6th floor now.”
So I joined some people outside and learned a lot via the geographic grapevine. Our mission “the increase and diffusion of geographical knowledge” of Mel Gibson’s butt.
I’m not sure if it has anything to do with his controversial new movie Passion. There is so much buzz with this movie I can’t give just one link. See the list below.
It’s Mad Max. William Wallace. I want to eat an amalgam of his characters all up.
I am sitting outside, completely stoked and feeling like Geeky McFangirl. I heard one guy say, mocking us females in what was obvious jealousy, “You can take our lunch hour, but you can never take our freedom!”
We’re all dorks here.
When he came out I did that double take that I’ve only felt a couple times. It’s a familiar person that you’ve never seen in the flesh. He paused, saying goodbye to very lucky women who were working with him, kissing cheeks. We watched tensely, smiling. It would have been preferable to me to be invisible rather than feeling like such a dork, within five feet of Mel Gibson. He seems so sweet.
Yes, he’s very handsome in real life, just as much as on film. He was wearing jeans and a black short sleeved shirt. Very nice legs. Not too tall, under 6 feet. The shirt covered his butt, though. Lovely eyes. Just a hint of his age but in a fabulous and rugged way. I’m thinking about blue paint.
7 children? Sure, if you want, Mel.
His being here has already sparked three very interesting conversations with friends related to the movie, and religion in general. I’m not going to get into it here & now, unless someone posts something. But I love that being silly startstruck can evolve into thoughtful talks on geo-political religion and culture. Here are some links to start:
Passion
411 Mania
Time Archive
A Fan Site
Illinois Conservative Politics
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Personality Driven Dentistry
I spent a good while im-ing with a friend who is a conspiracy theorist. This person tells me very interesting things but worries too much about ending up ‘on a list’ to let me use him/her as my deepthroat. poo, no fun.
You can tell this person cares about you when in parting says, “Put heavy stuff in front of your door.” And you laugh before you realize they’re serious.
Funnier still, I have this other friend who’s site IS being watched cuz he IS on a list. I can’t figure out why at all. But he just thinks it’s hysterically funny.
Side note: There are tons of political, subversive, and conspiratal sites out there and I have zero desire to be one.
What does interest me is the difference that personality (call it temperment, viewpoint, attitude) can make on someone’s M.O.
I have this dentist (this goes somewhere i promise) who I’ve only seen twice. I think his entire practice is Personality Driven Dentistry. I smell wackiness and disconnect in his mind. He wants to get in there and dig and scrape and make you bleed. He wants to grind down your teeth and replace them and when the insurance company won’t approve his proposition he tells you a story about how they once denied a man from being put on a kidney list so long that he DIED.
I don’t think I’m going to die.
And I’m not going to let Dr. I-shaved-my-eyebrows-like-i’m-Pink-Floyd-personified get his OC off on my perfectly nice teeth.
Dude, Mr. Dentist, it’s a cavity (on one tooth) and it’s (a separate tooth) that I broke a corner off of TEN years ago because of TMJ, and my wonderful former dentist molded stuff on the molar to make it feel normal. Mr. Dr. Dentist Sir, I will not allow you to destroy my tooth because there “might be pain… the nerve might be dying… there might be a cavity.”
There’s no pain, it’s fine. Pay attention.
It’s not even a cap, just a little porcelain or something. My former dentist was really chill, thorough but not at all about overdoing it. And he never ever made me bleed a pint of blood from a normal tartar scraping.
I love getting Wired’s newsletter. They have great headlines and pullquotes, “Irish scientists plan to let consumers eavesdrop on dolphin conversations, thus ending all dolphin privacy.” link
