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emmanation

You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

Archive for December, 2010

well aren’t you just adorable

Monday, December 20th, 2010

Friday night Crockett and I spent a couple of hours at a locals bar in Avon. They had the Sabres game on tv, wheat beer on tap, and we didn’t have anything else to do.

When the game was over, I walked up to the counter to settle our bill. One of the three guys already there said something I didn’t hear and gestured in front of him. I thought he’d offered to let me go first, so I said ‘no thank you, I’m fine’.

Apparently he’d actually offered me a shot, and in my rejection you’d think I’d done the rudest thing EVAH. They were flabbergasted, and one of them immediately accused me of walking up all fancy and thinking I was too good for them.

I explained that I’d misheard them and attempted polite conversation, but the one who’d called me fancy would just not let it go. His more polite friend asked my name and told me his, and Mr. Cranky Pants seriously said “I’d tell you my name was Jason, but you’d probably be more impressed” at this point he started faking some bizarre accent “if I talked like this and told you it was Fabio”.

He proceeded like this for the several minutes it took them to settle their bill. It was the oddest social experience I’ve had in several years. He was being outright rude to me, under the guise of wanting to impress me. He brought up his Irish heritage and accused me of not liking it. He essentially said that I didn’t belong in that bar. Crockett couldn’t hear any of this, and he just thought I was making new friends.

I still don’t understand what happened. I don’t know if he was just raring for a fight, or if he was hitting on me in a misguided as all fuck manner. Either way, he made my night roughly 10 times more awkward than it needed to be. Awesome.

success

Friday, December 17th, 2010

I finished the semester. My first semester, as a graduate student. I finished. I’m done. I don’t know how I did, yet – I’m actually kind of scared to look. No matter what, though, I’m done done done.

I have big plans. Part of them include doing absolutely nothing, and I’m off to kind of a stellar start. I’m sitting in Vail in a Starbucks, streaming Buffy the Vampire Slayer to my iPhone while writing this post and the first couple of pages of my novel.

Seats are in short supply, and I’m considering offering the spare one at my table to someone in exchange for a pumpkin latte.

That’s as complicated as my thoughts are getting, right now.

It’s positively lovely.

if this blog were a baby it’d be getting ready for kindergarten

Wednesday, December 15th, 2010

Four years. Four years ago today I unleashed this gem upon the unsuspecting world:

This grown-up thing is so weird

Is it not?
I’m expected t make these decisions and just never go back on them! I can’t keep a lease for a year, how on earth do I know what I want to be for the rest of my life?
Here’s what I’d like to do if I could do everything:
Be a doctor
Win the lottery
Have the same dog forever
Have 10 dogs and refer to them as my ‘peeps’
Develop a television show
Be an archeologist
Write a book about a girlie detective
Write a book about metallurgy
Be a vet
Visit the north pole (just in case Santa’s really there)
Join the Peace Corps
Join Engineers without Borders
Meet a stranger and eat a hamburger
Be a tenured professor of… well, anything
Convince the world that 5’1″ is the perfect height for a runway model
Be that person who does studies like ‘2 out of 10 people think trees aren’t pretty’ and ‘being married makes you 12% less likely to run out of gas on the way to work’
Design Italian sports cars with my little brother
See?  How is one supposed to fit all of this into 100 years or less? Baloney.

We’ve been through a lot since then, guys. I wrote that sitting in a little studio apartment in south Boulder. I was working as a manufacturing manager for a data storage company. I was not, in as much as I recall, dating anyone. Since then I’ve bought a house, met a guy, switched jobs at least twice, and thrown up my hands at corporate america and returned to university life. I’ve adopted a second dog, started two additional blogs, and grown out my hair. I’ve been on a sailboat, tried roller derby, and gotten two new tattoos.

I’ve grown, and changed a little maybe, but I’m still mostly the same girl, writing the same blog.

The most important difference  is you guys. When I started this, I was sending words out into absolutely nowhere. I was writing on myspace, for my own amusement. Now, I have thoughtful commenters and blog friends who keep an eye out for me when I’m having a bad time. I have readers whose own blogs make me simultaneously envious and awestruck.

Basically, I love you guys. Here’s to … another four years?

Damn, that sounds like a long time.

we’re all doomed

Tuesday, December 14th, 2010

On top of finishing my school work (STILL NOT DONE) this week, I was asked to review some applications for an award offered to high school students who have aspirations in computer science.

Those applications are making me doubt, this this order:

  1. Everything I remember about being a teenager
  2. Ever having children
  3. Humanity

I freely admit that I’m making two assumptions. First, in order for a student to apply, I’m assuming that either that student or an adult that knows that student read the award description and truly thought the student would be a good candidate. Second, I’m assuming that the applicants believed that what they turned in was acceptable. Perhaps, in some cases, neither of those is true. It’s horrible that that’s what I’m hoping for.

Some of the applications were… acceptable. A few were hilarious. Some were no holds barred motherfucking embarrassing.

I don’t think that it’s appropriate for me to quote any of them, which is a shame, because without samples I doubt you’ll be able to fully embrace what I’m saying here. However, you’ll just have to use your imagination. Imagine, for example, that you’re 17 and you’re still confused about capital letters and sentence structure, that you think leadership is managing to get anything done when someone else is in the room, and that when you’re asked if you belong to an underrepresented group you truly believe that ‘yes, I’m white’ is a valid answer.

I remember my teenage years as being not all that different from my twenties (which I’m almost done with). Sure, I made some dumb ass calls, probably more regularly than I do now, but it’s not like I went from a blabbering idiot to a well spoken adult the second they handed me my diploma. I was more dramatic (shut it, it’s totally possible), but I’m pretty sure that I was able to string together a sentence, and maybe even explain things in a manner that made sense. Also? I understood the concept of underrepresented.

I’m not trying to say that I’m better than these students. I’m trying to say that I don’t understand the disconnect. Was I in fact better, or am I misremembering, or did I somehow just get a disproportionate amount of unqualified applicants in my review bucket? Am I being too hard on these kids?

Or are we all doomed?

skittish

Thursday, December 9th, 2010

This morning I asked Crockett if he knew how he would commit suicide. I asked in a totally non-creepy manner and it was with regard to something I was reading on the world wide internets, but he still responded with an (overly dramatic) ‘WHY would you ask that??’.

I tried to explain that it’s not one of my brain black holes, so it didn’t seem like a big deal.

You know, brain black holes.

I think everyone has them. They’re the things that send you into a crappy mood, a downward spiral, a sit in your armchair and cry kind of place if you think about them too hard. For some people suicide is probably one of them – people who have dealt with it personally or had a loved one struggle with it. I fully respect that. My personal black hole is the question of what happens after we die; I can say the words but if I let my mind settle on the concept we’re talking full on panic attack. Since suicide doesn’t have those implications for me, that question was, to me, on par with asking ‘would you ever burn your house down for the insurance money?’. (Also a totally fascinating question. And yes, I probably would, under the right circumstances. It’d be easy to catch me though, because coincidentally Cloey and Maida wouldn’t have been in the house when it caught on fire.)

The point here is not insurance fraud or suicide, though – it’s those things that your mind skates away from. Those things that you don’t want to think about, for whatever reason. They become like mental black ice – try to land on them and you slip right across to the other side. They could be your brain black holes. They could also be things like homework. I mean, technically my homework doesn’t give me a panic attack, but right now I’m mentally steering around it despite my best efforts to grab hold.

I’m writing this in an attempt to focus, but also so I can ask this.

Does anyone have any brain road salt I could borrow? Or maybe a portable brain blow dryer?

It’s finals week. Brain black ice is not acceptable.