THERE WAS GOING TO BE A TREE ILLUSTRATION WITH THIS POST

but blogger kept giving me an error when I tried to upload, instead i'm going to post pictures of trees. (Click on the image for more)

Blast OFF!

3-2-1 Contact was one of my favorite television shows when I was little. I think I only saw a few episodes and actually, I can't remember a single one, just that I know I liked it. The theme music was catchy too, but again, I can't remember what it sounded like. Another favorite show was the one where a man wore a full-bodied leotard with the body's major organs on it. He was white and had curly hair grown out into a puff-ball. I think he would sing and dance about staying healthy. I watched with a mixture of utter fascination and horror. His show came on just about the time mom and I had to leave to pick Leah up from school.

A friend recommended The Alchemist to me, even going so far as to lend the book to me, a known book thief. She told me how it was "life-changing" I had to read it. I was almost finished with it, somewhere in the last chapter, when I though, "Hmmm. I've read this before."

The Big Lebowski, the scene where they throw the ashes over the cliff, "oh yeah, I have seen this."

I still remember the first time I heard a recording of Bob Dylan singing Lay Lady Lay. It was a song I listened to most of my senior year of high school. And even now, hearing it brings back memories of the stage curtains in the auditorium as well as the seats in the touring bus. The song is scarlet red and turquoise blue in my mind.

Hearing-Aid

I don't know where my head was today in three separate acts:

Standing at the drinking fountain at work I hear the elevator stop, open, and some guys get off, they're coming back from lunch and are talking. The bottle is filled, so i start walking toward the fifth-floor's door. I punch in the key-code and turn to hold the door open for the guys. I'm started because one is right behind me, and says something, and it filters through my brain that he has said something to me in the hall and I've totally ignored him.

"Were you talking to me?"
"I said that water's polluted."
"Wow. Sorry, I wasn't paying any attention."
"What were you thinking about, your boyfriend?"
"Oh, uh, yeah."

I was at the Coffee House getting a mocha with the super-special dark chocolate. The girl making it was still turned toward the esspresso machine, so the other worker, says something to me. I had to glance behind me to realize he was talking to me,

"Um, I'm sorry. What?"
"I'll ring you up..."
"Oh, Right."

Sitting at my desk I hear a conference between the Ag. section guys. They keep refering to Africans. I'm getting a little perturbed, what do Africans have to do with agricultural permits in Nebraska? Only after they've finished their debate, do I realize he's saying applicants.
-------
While parking, I hit my neighbor's car. It is not the first time this has happened, though last time I was backing up and it was night. This evening, it was light and I was pulling in, hitting it head on.

Crack Is Wack

For the past week I've been planning on getting up early and, either get to work on time or write. Neither has worked out, but at the library tonight I've gotten more done in an hour then I have in the past four days. Unfortunately, the minute after I got my bag unpacked and my computer set up I was starving. Not just a little hungry, like I'll get a drink and be fine, but hungry as in I was thinking of the food I had at home and when could I leave to eat. The hunger aside, I might get my mid-term done on time. Also, on my way home, I got the phrase "crack is wack" stuck in my head. My sister wrote this in a comment a few weeks ago and I thought it was the funniest thing to imagine my sister writing that, much less saying it. So she's been in my head, repeating over and over, "crack is wack" while I eat my toast.

Sevens

I got tagged by sooz and since I love making lists, especially about myself, here you go...

SEVEN things:

7 things I plan to do before I die:

live in another country
get a masters degree in anything design
complete a design project
be organized and responsible, if only for a day
draft, by hand, a three-point perspective from a worm's eye view
get rid of my car (and not get another one)
be productive


7 things I can do:

draw a straight line (freehand!)
sincerely argue a point that is totally wrong
daydream
filibuster
tell funny stories
waste time
be really, really annoying


7 things I cannot do:

lie. (I try and try, but I always give myself away)
touch my toes
keep things neat and tidy
pay attention when I need to be paying attention
accomplish anything without a deadline
comment in class
flirt with boys I like

7 things that attract me to the same or opposite sex:

general niceness
good sense of humor
hockey hair
intellectual (a library card means extra bonus points)
nice eyes
nice hands (but a bonus is if they guy is wearing a button up shirt and the sleeves are rolled up)
rides a bike

7 things that I say most often:

oh boy
uh-oh
hmmm (must be accompanied by a contemplative face)
yes!-wait.-no.-yes!
damn it
what are you doing?
how does that make you feel?

7 celebrity crushes:

David Sedaris
Ira Glass
Johnny Depp
David Byrne
Jonathan Goldstein (in the bitch-squealer episode of TAL)
Benicio del Toro

I'm not going to officially tag anyone else, but I think Leah B. Should do this as well as Bryant, actually I wouldn't mind everyone doing it...conveniently spaced out through my work day.

Gift Giving

Karen sent me a David Sedaris .mp3 that I've been trying to figure out how to post, but I'm not coming up with much. It's an interview with Terri Gross conducted soon after his book, Holidays On Ice, was published. They talk about Christmas, and the title of my last post comes from the David's reply to what were some of the best gifts he received. An electric typewriter was the first thing he mentioned, saying it changed his life, and then he mentioned his sister had gotten him a stuffed ostrich that year and how much he liked getting taxidermy as gifts.

SPOILER ALERT.
I know what Leah's Christmas gift from grandma is this year...
When I went to visit my grandma she was working on crocheting an afghan. I commented on how nice it was and so she offered to give it to me for Christmas. She then went on to quiz me on Leah's tastes. Would she like an afghan? What pattern should I use? What are her favorite colors? I didn't really know any of the answers, so I just made them up. Yes, she would love an afghan for Christmas. She prefers striped patterns in her favorite colors of scarlet red combined with light sky blue.

In addition to the afghan, I'm also asking for taxidermied animals...Ones that I have not taxidermied at the sorority bar the previous night.

"Taxidermy Is Always A Good Gift"

Updates

"Where is, in other words, the funky tattooed intellectual poetess who, along with her genius anarchist husband, is popping out 16 funky progressive intellectually curious fashion-forward pagan offspring to answer the Duggar's squad of über-white future Wal-Mart shoppers? Where is the liberal, spiritualized, pro-sex flip side? Verily I say unto thee, it ain't lookin' good."

new flickr photos:

Internet Eyes

I lost my sandal in the middle of an intersection today. I held up traffic while I circled around to put it back on; good thing I got a head start by trying to run the red light.

According to my mother, the cat has decided to stick around even after being chased up a tree, twice, by the vicious, resident, rat-terrier mix.

I got my work computer back late yesterday afternoon. And today I've spent all of my work time waiting for my files to be copied back onto the hard drive.

My eyes hurt from looking at the University of Illinois Landscape Architecture web site for way, way too long. There are several things that worry me about the school:

1.) They don't have a gallery or porfolio of student work.
2.) WHY can't I easily find the "request information" form?
3.) There are only three graduate design studios listed.
4.) Information about the program seems to be sketchy, with the gaps filled in with faculty achievements...

There Seems To Be A Rumor Going Around...

...that I am a hipster. That I am so much of a hipster people have to "wear sunglasses and put down their sunshades" because I radiate so much hipness. Here is what I wore today, which is not hip and can, at best, only be described as patriotic.

Mixed Nuts

This weekend I went to Oklahoma. Both my parent's birthdays are in October and instead of buying expensive gifts, I usually make the trip home.

And there I was, at my grandma's house saying goodbye to her and my dad. He was taking her to an eye doctor's appointment and I was there for a brief exchange of crochet-covered hangers. When my dad pulled up, behind the house, he heard a cat crying. Now, my grandmother doesn't have a cat she has a part-Chow dog that is a proven cat-eater. Mindy, the dog, earlier in the month killed a stray cat that foolishly wandered into my grandma's yard. Knowing this, I wasn't going to leave this cat to hang around grandma's and surely get killed. Instead of running it off, to avoid his death, we gave in to his cries and fed him some dog food. Thus guaranteeing he would stick around for Mindy to eat.

So, with no other options, I decided to load him in my car and drive him less then a mile away to my mom's house. Where I was hoping he would stay and, in turn, I would have a cat. Turns out, the cat was wise to the whole load-you-in-my-car-and-drop-you-off-somewhere-strange scenario. I got him in the car with a lot of cuddling and petting, unfortunately I was not smart enough to roll the windows up all the way and he jumped out the passenger side. Now, I was left repeating the same process I just gone through, however, I added a can of mixed nuts from my car, hoping for the same results but with fewer scratches. I didn't know if cats liked nuts, but dad and grandma had already left and her house was locked up tight, so I didn't have access to any of the dog food. I reasoned that the peanut is similar in size to cat kibble and is salty too, with the cat starving, he shouldn't be able to tell much of a difference. And boy, does he like peanuts. Cashews too, and especially the Brazil nuts. As I trailed the nuts into my car, he really wanted to follow, but was shy about actually stepping foot in my car (the car of a now confirmed cat-napper, oh, in more ways then one), but he was close enough and I was quick enough to toss him in. He tried for the window (smart cat) but it was rolled up (smart human) and he bounced off it and over the passenger seat into the back window. Where he kept up a constant yowling as I headed for home. He kept getting scarily close to the back of my head, and at one point he was balancing on my headrest, and I kept saying "Don't you dare claw my neck! You're so going back to grandma's if you do!"

Then at home once released, he bolted out of the car and around to the back of the house where he hid in the cannas. I put some more peanuts on the patio and went inside to get him some water. When I opened the back door he darted off. And even after pathetic pleading and promising on my part, he took one last look at me as if to say, "I liked you, really I did, but you blew it. My trust in you is gone." and then headed into the pasture as I headed back to Lincoln, empty handed.

"His fur is very soft," I told my mother on the phone, "keep your eye out for him, he's nice. I think you'd like to keep him."

News Clippings

Bryant, and I think Ceri seconded it, requested some Sunken Gardens pictures. This is not a picture of the gardens, but it is about the gardens. It's from the Lincoln Life Blog by my friend Cindy (I've written about her before) and I really enjoyed how Cheryl's second comment just doesn't quite make sense. As background, the original blog entry asked what you would take if Lincoln was struck by a natural calamity, the only one destructive enough to worry about around here is a 50 or 100 year flood. So, in a flood what would you grab out of your house:

Angel of Death? Does she think that the gardens need to be condemned to hell? To be done away with? I don't get it. Especially since I like them, even though I happen to be a severe critic of the built environment I think the renovation were beneficial, of course, only after they decided not to tear my house down for parking. It helps that I lived across the street from them and have had some memorable times there. But come on, it's a space filled with flowers, how bad can it really be, Angel. of. Death?...I just don't understand.

If you, readers, want to list what you would grab on the way out of the house in the event of a flood, I'm curious. I actually thought about leaving a comment along the lines of crack and shotguns, but figured it would be inappropriate.

The Things That Keep Me Busy

Because just listening to the radio is not enough, I'm listening to not only All Things Considered, but an additional station that comes in with the local NPR station. And because it annoys me, I've added one ear of headphones playing The Beatles.

After being a semi-zombie (actually up from total zombie) today at work, I came home and made potato soup and fresh green beans. The green beans were an impulse buy Tuesday night at the grocery store. So green and fresh calling out my name. I don't, however, know what to do with fresh green beans. I ended up cooking them in salted water, then after they were done put some butter on them and freshly ground pepper. yum.

I took pictures on the way home from the grocery store (note the rain, so I was justified in driving there). I embrace taking ridiculously boring pictures of the boring things I do whole-heartedly. And whether or not Ceri's pictures are boring (I really don't think so) she does this too except every time I see a picture taken from her bike I think, "ohmigod, that's so dangerous!" But here I am taking pictures out my windshield, driving at least 35 mph. And after many lectures to my friends about how they should not talk on the phone and drive, I've found myself driving, talking on the phone, and taking pictures at the same time. Tuesday night the near misses were racking up, a jaywalker, a cyclist, the car in front of me did it stop me? Of course not.

I almost bought a guitar today on eBay. It was a beautiful, red, hollow-bodied Gibson. I could see myself on stage in cat-eye glasses, a poodle skirt, and cowboy boots playing in a kick-ass rock-a-billy band. Sadly, the only song I could play (as of four years ago) was Puff The Magic Dragon...not rock-a-billy at all. The same sellers had a cello for sale and I went through a similar daydream with it, replacing the glasses, skirt, and boots with a glamorous hair style, a sleek black dress, fashionable, yet comfortable, heels, and a full orchestra.

Lost

Seems that, when I was fiddeling around with the fonts on my quiz, I accidentally deleted all the questions after number seven. Oops.

"You Were A Landscape In My Dream"

The other night I had a dream where a nurse was "drawing" blood from my arm, the soft, inner part of my elbow. In actuality, she was not extracting my blood for testing, but injecting someone else's blood into me. Later that night I dreamt I had to swim to an island in a tropical lake. The water was a beautiful turquoise blue and you could see all the way to the bottom. The problem was the lake was filled with leaches, pond leaches and I was having to contort myself so they wouldn't attach themselves to me. As bad as these dreams were, I'll take them over the snake dreams any day.

Destructive Tendencies

Amazingly, the interview went well. So well, that there are really no extraordinary stories to tell about it. I didn't embarrass myself, I didn't insult the company or the interviewer, and I acted confident, rather then nervous. However, before getting my hopes up about getting the job, I have to remind myself that they are looking for someone with experience, and preferably someone with a masters in architecture. Clearly, one could see that my resume shows no architectural experience, yet the interviewer kept asking about it, as if I was keeping it a secret. "Okay. You've got me. I AM working in a design firm! I just wanted you to ask a thousand times!" But I went and I showed them my work (gulp) and told them what I wanted to gain from the experience. Unfortunately, though, the entire time I was sitting there the critical part of my brain kept up a steady barrage on the side that was trying to answer; "you can't do this.why are you here.this will kill you.their work is awful.you HAVE a job do you need to get another one?just get up and walk out. you tried, that's all that matters." And on and on while my anxiety level shot through the roof. I stayed and was comforted with the parting remark of, "Well, we haven't found anyone yet..." To which, I must have raised my eyebrows asking, "yet as in, up to today, or are we counting the last hour in that statement?" He fumbled, tried to explain, and left things at two more interviews to go in the next two weeks, you'll hear from me then. I'm saying maybe I will and probably I won't.

This weekend was a movie bonanza for me. Four movies from Friday night to Sunday afternoon: The new Wallace & Gromit, Exorcism of Emily Rose, Fargo, and Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Wallace & Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit was cute and cheesy...um, no pun intended.

Exorcism of Emily Rose, I was totally prepared to have the pants scared off me, but it didn't happen. Next time I'd like to see more demon possession.

Fargo, I should have seen it sooner.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith, how can you go wrong with two beautiful people shooting guns and driving wrecklessly? It makes me want to be rich and beautiful...I'd see it again.

Colonialism

Sunday's agenda:

1.) Straighten up my apartment.
2.) Read for class.

What got done on Sunday:

1.) Mr. & Mrs. Smith, watched.
2.) Former roommate visited with.
3.) Former classmate visited with.
4.) Mother visited with.
5.) Four pages of assignment read (something about colonialism in Africa).
6.) Zero ideas absorbed from four pages of reading.

Part of the reason I didn't get any of my reading done was because I was sitting outside at the coffee shop. Next to me was a family with two boys around eight and ten years old. They were playing "I-Spy" and heading in to the bathroom every 15 minutes. They were doing both things Loudly, shouting out what they were spying and when walking past me on the way to the bathroom they would flail their arms around and the father would have to say, "Be Careful! There Are Other People Here." I was wishing I spied a kidnapper who specialized in chubby, loud, school-aged boys.

And I got a note from my landlady saying she'll be stopping by tomorrow to check smoke detectors and faucets because she is selling the building. The battery has been out of my smoke detector for almost a year, after I baked a cake and it WOULD NOT stop squealing. Turns out a year without a battery does not solve this problem. So, I took the detector off the wall to see if I could fix it. And I did, so well that it won't squeal at all even with the battery in it. Now at 10:00 p.m. I'm trying to decide if I should go see if Walgreen's sells smoke detectors. If I go, I'm going to get ice-cream.

Quiz show

RU Hip?

The ultimate in hip-awareness, separating the truly hip from the impostors.

1. How do you get around?

A car
Crappy bike
Scooter
Never leave the house


2. Where do you work?

Coffeeshop
Music store
"Real job"
Student


3. Favorite Drink?

Malt Liquor
Pabst Blue Ribbon
Water
Espresso


4. Where does your wardrobe come from?

Vintage boutique
Thrift store
Dumpster
American Eagle


5. Are you an "artist"?

My work is my life
My life is my work
I have a digital camera
I have a blog


6. How often do you bathe?

Every day
Every day, except the weekends
Every other day
Only when I need it


7. Accessories?

Landscapes For Better Living, Inc.

If the creative energy I spend at my job goes toward the discovery of how to nap without being caught, I think something needs to change. I'm fighting a growing panic this afternoon, in part because of the coffee breakfast I had, but more from the overheard conversation that is taking place outside my cubicle. Two men are talking, one who has worked here 16 years, the other 18, they are worried about their projects being cut and the time they've invested in them. This reflects on my current mental crisis and the time I've wasted not working on what I want to do, of course, figuring out what you want to do is another issue entirely. Because of this it has been a rough week, or more accurately, a week of coming to terms with the discrepancy between what I'm doing with my life and what I want to be doing. I spoke with a professor last week who, not unkindly, told me I had self-destructive behaviors going on to add that if I continued with my current trends ("working deadend jobs") I would, most likely, end up a bitter, unhappy person. . .Noted. It seems that I'm going through a bit of an existential crisis.

However, her reflections didn't come as too much of a shock. I had figured I was bored and maybe a little lonely, and after I went through the depression check-list in the lunchroom mentally checking "yes" to all of the signs, I added depression and it's lack of action to the list of causes for my current state of being. But what she did say that affected my inaction, is the threat of her not being my reference for graduate school. Unless I can prove to her that:

1) I will work hard and therefore, not reflect badly on her,
2) That I care,
3) That I will be decisive in my actions,
4) That I will work professionally in my field.

Of course, I want this and now, in the past week, I've been trying to counter my "deadend" actions. And the more I address them, it seems the less time I have for work. Which leads me to reinstate my imaginary design firm; Landscapes For Better Living. I created it last semester when I was in a community and regional planning/agronomy class when I was having trouble motivating myself to write a paper. As a timewaster that encompasses both my skills at daydreaming and egoism, I came up with a firm that would solve the world's problems. But until my versions of reality and the anti-matter converge, I'm left with Plan B...

I'm a believer in coincidences and luck (I was talking about this with a friend who when he sees a tails-up penny on the ground, has to turn it over for the next person, but the penny can't leave the ground.) So on Monday, after a weekend of introspection and planning, I saw a woman I was in a few studios with, I took it as a sign to start looking for jobs in architecture. We talked, and after the chance-meeting I sent my resume to a firm in town that is looking for an Intern Architect. I meet none of their requirements yet they want to meet with me. And as hard as I try, I just can't imagine them hiring me, but putting me in a situation ripe with possibilities for me to spew ridiculous things out of my mouth to embarrass myself.

Sidewalk Stories

I was walking back from getting a coffee that I didn't really want when I saw two women sitting in a parked car. They were getting ready to back into traffic when the driver started rolling up the passenger's window. However, the passenger was ashing her cigarette out the window and her wrist got smashed between the glass and door frame. I could see their muted hysterics while I made no effort not to stare with a smile sweeping over my face.

Browsing

Remember the bat that kept getting in my apartment? I discovered what the bat does during the day.

It's A Crisis!

Props go to Ben Yancer for his tips on getting my images to post.