I have not posted in a little bit and normally I would apologize to those of you who care, but I sense that only Liz really seems to care. In fact, she makes me feel downright guilty sometimes, but right now she's so focused on the LSAT that it appears that I have gone by the wayside. *sob* On the other hand, I can now post at my leisure. Take THAT, friends!!! Wait...
Anyway, I have officially started working at the Perkins Center for Deaf/Blind Children. This means that they are deaf AND blind, which must SUCK. On the other hand, they're super cute so they have that working for them. It's all for the better that I don't know sign language, or I would teach them key ways to get around in the world, like how to sucker your parents into buying you stuff and how to look so amazingly adorable that no one can resist your requests, etc. I can't wait to corrupt my own children someday. This reminds me of the time when I turned 21 and I was super excited cause I could start buying alcohol for minors. This didn't really pan out since I wasn't an elementary school teacher or anything, so instead I bought my parents wine n' stuff with Daddy's hard earned money, which was almost as satisfying. I also wanted to buy cigarettes for an angsty 14 year old or something when I turned 18 but I forgot and instead I called a psychic hotline and was told that my husband beat me. I was surprised since I wasn't married, which I told the girl about 20 times. Boy they sure are smart. THEN when I was in a play in college I had to buy cigarettes for a part and I was very excited because I had never purchased any before. I even smoked about 1/4th of one and tried to act cool because my life long dream is to be in an after school special, but a) it hurt my eyeballs and b) I thought I was going to set something on fire so I stamped it out, threw it in a puddle and waited for it to rain to make sure nothing went wrong. I CAN be a bad influence, I just need practice.
At any rate, the actual point of this post is to talk about my newfound interest in Animal Planet. I've always kind of enjoyed the channel because they inevitably show kittens falling all over each other, but I recently found a show called EXTREME Animals that more or less chooses a theme and goes with it. Like EXTREME Animal baby making, or whatever they called it. Bunnies were only #6 on the list (there's always a top 10 or something), and in the top 5 was a spider that is being eaten by his mate while he's getting her preggers (that is dedication, but not so surprising either), a frog that gives birth to its babies OUT OF ITS BACK, a tapeworm (it was #1 but I couldn't watch cause it's gross), and, my personal favorite, the armadillo, which can delay pregnancy up to *3 years*. 3 freaking years that the lady armadillo can wait until she springs it on some long lost boyfriend. Nice. I also saw a different EXTREME Animals that was "Odd Couples". They showed a bunch of weird stuff, though common in the animal world, like a frog and a spider that are best friends and a shark that has a parasite attached to its eye (mmmm eyeball juice), but there was an adorable segment that showed a grizzly bear that had made friends with a kitty. Apparently, one day the kitty pranced up to the giant pile of possible kitty meat that the bear was munching on in a state park and started to snarf some of the bear's meal. Instead of eating the kitty, the bear decided it needed a pet. So the little mew now sleeps under the bear's chin and follows it around and generally is snuggletastic and in return the bear gets to learn responsibility and doesn't eat it. Nature sure is swell. On the top 10 countdown of all time, the number 1 most EXTREME animal was some sort of miscroscopic bug. I was displeased.
EXTREEEEEEEEME!!!
K.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
Trekkie part 4
So this past week was just chock full of filing, filing, and more filing. I got back from home on Tuesday, had Wednesday to workout n' stuff, and then scampered back to HLS on Thursday and Friday. Now, I presently work part time in two different jobs. I work for HLS still as a general office assistant and I am going to start working at the Perkins School for the Blind on Tuesday. It's basically 5 hours 2 days a week, which is not ideal since I'd really rather work the *whole* week and stop having my parents pay for groceries, but I'll take what I can get. Turns out I'm not the only one that thinks getting a job in Boston is hard. Moving on, so now I only work 2 days at HLS, this past Thursday and Friday and the Monday and Tuesday preceeding that. So I've been out of the office for about a week. I return on Thursday and there must be over 1,000 applications for me to file. Just sitting there in alphabetical piles. Not all one alphabet, mind you, but maybe 15 different 100 count ones. At least 100. *sigh* Not that I expected anyone to do any of it, since I suspect that when they DO have the time to file, they just push papers around looking like they're doing something. Mind you, I definitely don't blame them and it's a little hypocritical for me to complain since this is what I signed up for, but YIKES.
Anywhom, Friday was also a red-letter day. Oliver came to pick me up from work so that we could go have lunch together, which we manage to do once a week more or less. As he approached me from 50 ft away on the Law School campus, I gleefully pointed and yelled out "Muuuuuuuuuurse!!!!" in the most sing-songy voice I can manage. Then we proceeded to go to one of my favorite lunch spots, not only for its high quality food but also cheap nature, Campo di Fiori in the Square. I love that place. So awesome. And ruined forever. Of course Trekkie was there. Why would he eat anywhere else? Millions of places to eat in the Square and he happens to be getting his food TO GO at the same time I waltz in with Oliver. I stop dead about 15 ft away and say in a strangled voice to Ov, "Arghhhhh!!! Ponytail!!!!!!" Oliver moves his murse aside to put his arm around me in a most cavalier and boyfriend-like fashion, considering he hates it when I tell him he has a murse. Murse!
Anyway, we siddle up to the window, and I specifically refuse to look anywhere but at the nice Brazilian lady gathering my iced tea together, but that doesn't last very long since Trekkie has to retrieve his food about 10 inches from where I'm standing. I need to have a discussion with my parents about teaching me in my childhood not to be rude. And I'm going to preface my interaction with the Trekkie with an explanation of my mood. I was tired. Hella tired. I had filed for 2 days straight and it really wasn't getting anymore interesting. My break consisted of entering data in Excel because I was that heinously bored. I was not in the correct mood to have an awkward conversation. So I didn't:
"Hey, Meg!"
"Hi."
*awkward pause*
"I see you have a sandwich."
"Yeah it's one of two cheapest places I can eat in the Square."
".... Okay."
"Yeah I like it."
"..."
*30 seconds of awkward silence*
"Oliver and I are going to eat here. I see you have food to go."
"Yeah I have errands."
"...."
"See you on the walk home."
"What?"
HELLO CREEPY!!!! See you on the walk home?!??! See you as I watch you sleep from outside your bedroom window wearing nothing but a trashbag, a tophat, and some socks??? Even Oliver, who admits himself that he's not the most perceptive chap on the block, said it was the most awkward social interaction he has ever been privy to. So now I have proof from a friend that I'm totally right about this guy and, additionally, that I have the worst luck possible. Literally, the absolute worst.
In another news, many of my out-of-town college friends are coming into town this weekend to see the Brahms Requiem. I'm really excited and not very happy at the same time. I began to get the vibe a long time ago that I didn't particularly gel at the larger group social gatherings, although people have been perfectly nice about it. I would say that it's my own insecurities rearing their ugly heads, but too many things have been brought to my attention at one point or another of how I've messed up. My immediate reaction is to not leave my apartment this weekend except for the concert, which you would have to use tasers to keep me away from. Hooray for low self-esteem! *cough* We shall see about that whole going out thing. Mayhap a Deep Blue Sea marathon? Honestly, do super intelligent sharks ever get old? I think not. Does playing fetch with Kitty and my half eaten necklace? Yes.
Anywhom, Friday was also a red-letter day. Oliver came to pick me up from work so that we could go have lunch together, which we manage to do once a week more or less. As he approached me from 50 ft away on the Law School campus, I gleefully pointed and yelled out "Muuuuuuuuuurse!!!!" in the most sing-songy voice I can manage. Then we proceeded to go to one of my favorite lunch spots, not only for its high quality food but also cheap nature, Campo di Fiori in the Square. I love that place. So awesome. And ruined forever. Of course Trekkie was there. Why would he eat anywhere else? Millions of places to eat in the Square and he happens to be getting his food TO GO at the same time I waltz in with Oliver. I stop dead about 15 ft away and say in a strangled voice to Ov, "Arghhhhh!!! Ponytail!!!!!!" Oliver moves his murse aside to put his arm around me in a most cavalier and boyfriend-like fashion, considering he hates it when I tell him he has a murse. Murse!
Anyway, we siddle up to the window, and I specifically refuse to look anywhere but at the nice Brazilian lady gathering my iced tea together, but that doesn't last very long since Trekkie has to retrieve his food about 10 inches from where I'm standing. I need to have a discussion with my parents about teaching me in my childhood not to be rude. And I'm going to preface my interaction with the Trekkie with an explanation of my mood. I was tired. Hella tired. I had filed for 2 days straight and it really wasn't getting anymore interesting. My break consisted of entering data in Excel because I was that heinously bored. I was not in the correct mood to have an awkward conversation. So I didn't:
"Hey, Meg!"
"Hi."
*awkward pause*
"I see you have a sandwich."
"Yeah it's one of two cheapest places I can eat in the Square."
".... Okay."
"Yeah I like it."
"..."
*30 seconds of awkward silence*
"Oliver and I are going to eat here. I see you have food to go."
"Yeah I have errands."
"...."
"See you on the walk home."
"What?"
HELLO CREEPY!!!! See you on the walk home?!??! See you as I watch you sleep from outside your bedroom window wearing nothing but a trashbag, a tophat, and some socks??? Even Oliver, who admits himself that he's not the most perceptive chap on the block, said it was the most awkward social interaction he has ever been privy to. So now I have proof from a friend that I'm totally right about this guy and, additionally, that I have the worst luck possible. Literally, the absolute worst.
In another news, many of my out-of-town college friends are coming into town this weekend to see the Brahms Requiem. I'm really excited and not very happy at the same time. I began to get the vibe a long time ago that I didn't particularly gel at the larger group social gatherings, although people have been perfectly nice about it. I would say that it's my own insecurities rearing their ugly heads, but too many things have been brought to my attention at one point or another of how I've messed up. My immediate reaction is to not leave my apartment this weekend except for the concert, which you would have to use tasers to keep me away from. Hooray for low self-esteem! *cough* We shall see about that whole going out thing. Mayhap a Deep Blue Sea marathon? Honestly, do super intelligent sharks ever get old? I think not. Does playing fetch with Kitty and my half eaten necklace? Yes.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
I so very didn't want to exercise today
But I hads me an assppointment, so I went. I arrive at noonish and notice that my trainer is cheating on me with some dude who is not even half as adorable as I am in my stripey yoga pants. Can't he coordinate?? At any rate, the first thing out of Babs's mouth is "You're killing me". I got the time wrong. Again. My response was "Best. Client. Ever." To which he miggled, or man-giggled for those who can't follow the lingo. Anyway, Emily showed up and after talking and not working out, we observed some dude who lifts a couple of reps, moves on to a new machine, then reads his newspaper for, oh say, 10 minutes. After 25 minutes of weight lifting wherein I did more reps than he probably does in a *year*, he began to make phone calls on his cellphone. Which leads me to ponder, WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?!?! You pay for a membership to go to a gym and then read the Sunday paper and do a little business. Wow. Em was horrified when she learned that her last machine she had to use was the very same one he had set up shop on about 15 minutes prior. She siddled over and asked if she could, "Slide into his routine". Maybe there's time in between the financial section and sports. Emily also listens to reggae when she lifts weights and, apparently, her ability to focus on exercising is entirely dependent on what's playing on her ipod. Too slow and she can't workout. So cute.
Also, I forgot to write about my guilty pleasure whilst I was home this weekend. On Sunday night they were showing America's Top 40 Live with Ryan Seacrest, who probably dies a little inside each day from being such a tool. Of course I watched it. I'm fascinated by Justin McCartney and his mismatched eyebrows and actual hair. Does he color them? Are they just filled in by an overzealous makeup artist? The world may never know. At any rate, turns out that both he and Hoobastank SUCK live. Honestly. They have probably sung their popular song about 70 MILLION times and they still blow. Wow. Learn to sing your 5 notes in tune, guys. Not that complicated. And Akon, my heart of hearts, also had a little performance. I am seriously the only person I know who likes his song and I'm smitten. He came onstage in his little button-up blue shirt and his little pair of jeans and he held hands with people in the audience and was generally adorable and seemed very down to earth. He will have my babies. Or something like that.
Anyway, two last things and then I have to skeedaddle because my cat is caught in the hamper again. Oh, Kitty. You shall never learn. First of all, yet another scary scary website from my brother: http://www.wayofthemaster.com/. Go to the highspeed version. Growing Pants, anyone? *Yikes*. Secondly, when I arrived home last night, I walked in the kitchen and there was an unopened can of catfood in Mew's bowl. Apparently Richard is trying to train her to open cans. He says it was a joke, but I know from other sources that he had his own little struggle with opening the catfood. Nice.
Also, I forgot to write about my guilty pleasure whilst I was home this weekend. On Sunday night they were showing America's Top 40 Live with Ryan Seacrest, who probably dies a little inside each day from being such a tool. Of course I watched it. I'm fascinated by Justin McCartney and his mismatched eyebrows and actual hair. Does he color them? Are they just filled in by an overzealous makeup artist? The world may never know. At any rate, turns out that both he and Hoobastank SUCK live. Honestly. They have probably sung their popular song about 70 MILLION times and they still blow. Wow. Learn to sing your 5 notes in tune, guys. Not that complicated. And Akon, my heart of hearts, also had a little performance. I am seriously the only person I know who likes his song and I'm smitten. He came onstage in his little button-up blue shirt and his little pair of jeans and he held hands with people in the audience and was generally adorable and seemed very down to earth. He will have my babies. Or something like that.
Anyway, two last things and then I have to skeedaddle because my cat is caught in the hamper again. Oh, Kitty. You shall never learn. First of all, yet another scary scary website from my brother: http://www.wayofthemaster.com/. Go to the highspeed version. Growing Pants, anyone? *Yikes*. Secondly, when I arrived home last night, I walked in the kitchen and there was an unopened can of catfood in Mew's bowl. Apparently Richard is trying to train her to open cans. He says it was a joke, but I know from other sources that he had his own little struggle with opening the catfood. Nice.
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