The Bloggess recently live-tweeted her attempt to make a waterbed for her cats. It’s the second half of the post. It killed me. Now go away, Internet. I’m supposed to be studying working.
I woke up this morning a little crazy with anxiety. The worst thing about it is that I woke up with a list of all the things I should be doing on a loop in my head, and then I froze. I could have gotten up right then to get started on the list, but did I? No, I stayed in bed. Because I could put off all the hard things. I do that all the time (procrastinate). Of course, that gives me less time overall to get everything done, so all it really does is ratchet up the anxiety a little more. Not exactly helpful behavior.
Instead, let’s a play a game (courtesy of Mom) called “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Anxiety Causing Thing #1: Quiz #4 for vector calculus and the midterm I have to take on Thursday
What’s the worst that could happen? Well, I could get all the answers wrong on my quiz, but that doesn’t affect my grade (just makes my professor think I’m an idiot), so there isn’t anything to worry about there. Of course, my performance on my quizzes is an indicator of my performance on the midterm, so if I don’t do well on my quizzes, I may not do well on my midterm. And I could fail my midterm. So what if I do? I won’t have a very good grade in my calculus class. That would be a blow to my ego (something I could survive), and it may put me on the road to failing this class. What if I fail the class? I’m taking it online at a community college because I need the prereq for grad school. If I fail it, I’m out approximately $350. If I fail it, I can retake it later. Will I fail it? Probably not. I may not get an A. I may not even get a B. But I probably won’t fail. I submitted my quiz this morning (confident that I got three out of four right), so that’s out of my hands, and I still have today, tomorrow, Wednesday, and part of Thursday to study for the midterm. Breathe deep.
Anxiety Causing Thing #2: Work
What’s the worst that could happen? I could get fired. Or laid off. Or whatever. That could happen, but there’s nothing I can do about it (and there’s no immediate indication that it’s coming), so that’s not what’s making me edgy. There’s nothing specific about work that’s bothering me. No major deadlines, no one is asking me to do anything I’m not capable of, I don’t have any issues with any coworkers. I just don’t like it. I don’t want to come here every day. (I know, whine whine whine, most people don’t actually like going to work.) I want to do something with flexible hours where I can work from home and have more time for me. The math that’s stressing me out is the first step in that direction, so this is more of a low-level, back-burner, always-bugging-me sort of thing that every once in a while jumps up and says, “Hey! Loser! Worry about me!”
Anxiety Causing Thing #3: Army Ten-Miler
Did I tell you about this? A few weeks ago, John registered to run in the Army Ten-Miler this October, and I caved to the very mild peer pressure and registered with him. So what’s the worst that could happen? I’ll be so slow that the bus that picks up the slowpokes who aren’t going to finish in the required time will pick me up. Humiliating. I have 17 weeks to train for it. I had more, but I didn’t use them. I can’t procrastinate on this one, so every day I don’t start this training plan gets under my skin, and I didn’t run today. Well, I kinda did. I sprinted around the block (up the hills) a couple of times with the dogs this morning. My math anxiety trumped my race anxiety this morning – I spent the extra time on my quiz. (SuzRocks sent me a link to a half-marathon training plan. I figure if I’m capable of running a half-marathon by the time I finish training, ten miles should seem easy. Ish. I just need to start the &^$* training plan.)
There are other things that bug me (there are always other things), but those are the three I woke up with this morning. Peace, serenity, lots of gym time tonight, some studying…I’ve got it under control.
Happy thoughts!
Catalog Living makes me laugh. Here and here. (I’m catching up. You should have seen how many tabs I had open for Tom and Lorenzo.) Then I wasted about an hour on The Daily What. Who am I kidding? That was not a waste of an hour.
Did you come here for original content? I’m terribly sorry. I seem to have misplaced it. Let’s look over here….nope. Not under my desk? In the closet? No. Under the dog! No way. Part of my problem (or the handiest excuse I have right now) is that I’m fighting the itchiest bug bites I’ve ever had. It’s like chicken pox. I’m fairly certain it isn’t chicken pox, and my memories of chicken pox are pretty old, but that’s what it’s like. I think. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Saturday night. I’ll get through most of the day not really noticing the bites, but they burn like fire in the middle of the night. It’s awful. The last few nights I’ve gone to bed after taking ibuprofen and benadryl and after dousing my legs in caladryl lotion. Hasn’t helped. Today I tried neosporin and band-aids. Not helpful. Tonight, though, I have a plan. First, this anti-itch lotion that smells like the worst mentholated cough drops you’ve ever tasted. So far so good. Then a bath with epsom salt. If those two things don’t work, I’m going to cut my legs off at mid-thigh and hobble around on my stumps for the rest of my life. It’s that bad.
The biggest problem with being only a few days (less than two now!) out from a vacation is that I’ve totally checked out of everything not vacation-related. I’m trying to care about work (failing miserably) and trying to concentrate on implicit differentiation (it doesn’t look familiar at all), but all I want to do is make a list of stuff to pack, things to pick up, errands to run, phone calls to make.
In other news, you know the world is ending on Saturday, right? Check out How Harold Camping actually calculated the May 21 end date in the Opinions section of the Washington Post. I particularly liked when she subtracted 8! because it threw off the calculation. And the graphic at the end.
In keeping with the theme, the CDC wants you to be prepared for the zombie apocalypse, and a Washington Post blogger discussed it with The Bloggess! (Because she’s an expert on zombies, as we all know.)
What is this sign telling me to do?
Should I wait? Should I walk? Break into song? (Either “Stop! In the Name of Love” or “Walk Like a Man” would be acceptable here. Maybe “These Boots Are Made for Walkin'”.) Should I look both ways and dash across the street if no cars are coming?
How are the citizens of New Orleans not in a state of constant bewilderment? Stop! I mean, go! I mean, gah! Get over here and don’t forget my drink! Ah. The sign has been drinking. I knew the truth would come out. It is right across the street from the casino. It’s broke AND drunk.
Seriously, though, is it broken? Or is it supposed to do that because of the Street Car Signal sign next to it? Is it telling the street car to stop so pedestrians can cross the street? Seems likely, but how is the pedestrian supposed to know that? And what does it look like when pedestrians have to stop but the street car can go? And isn’t streetcar one word?
My head is spinning. Like a record, baby, right round, round, round.
That sign reminds me of this sign (had to comb through The Daily What to find it again).
She’s so pretty. And I loved her dress. LOVED Pippa’s dress. Tom and Lorenzo covered every fashion-related aspect of the wedding (and there were many). See here (hats), here (ceremony and procession), here (guests), here (Pippa), and here (Kate). And then I left work early. Happy Friday!
Corrupt orphans screwed with my computer last night. For reals. They were obviously upset with Michigan State Senator Bruce Caswell, who recently proposed that money set aside for clothes for Michigan’s foster children should only be spent at thrift stores like Salvation Army and Goodwill. (Story here, courtesy of (and with commentary by) Nancy Nall.)
I’m not kidding about the corrupt orphans, though. I tried to boot up my computer this morning, and it got stuck. I called my handy live-in IT guy to fix it. He helped those poor orphans out. Very competent, that guy. I think I’ll keep him around.
You should be so proud of me. I just got back from a long walk with dogs and started dinner. Dinner will only take ten minutes, but I’m hungry NOW and I want to munch. To graze. To eat food high in calories and not good for me. Like those candy-coated chocolate eggs that are my favorite Easter candy ever. Or chips. (Not as exciting, but STILL. Chips.) I resisted the urge and reached instead for – wait for it (this is where you should be proud of me) – baby carrots.
I’ll wait for the cheers and applause to die down.
Thank you.
Yes, instead of pounding down delightfully tasty treats with no nutritional value, I’m chomping on crunchy orange CUTE little carrots, chock full of vitamins and other healthy things. They only occasionally remind me of toddler fingers. Or my own thumbs. Not at all disturbing.
Last week, there was a blogger/social media conference in New Orleans, and a lot of the bloggers I read were there. Dooce just posted a picture from her trip, and I want to go back! To New Orleans, not necessarily to the conference (although I would probably really enjoy one of those). I want to go right now.
Right now!
The caffeine wore off. Or maybe I’m coming down from the sugar high. Whatever it is, I’m all of a sudden super tired and so very glad tomorrow is Friday.
Also, I would like to move here.
I have really enjoyed my few days stuck at home. Really. Except for one field trip on Sunday with John, I haven’t left the house. I’m not saying I want to do this every day (I’d feel much better if I could go to my fun classes at the gym or run), but I kinda like not working. And I was SO productive. I finished one book, read two more, and started a third, spent countless hours cataloging the internet (kind of), watched several movies, including one today…what movie did I watch today? Seriously. I even liked it. Hang on.
The Recently Watched section in Netflix tells me I watched Desk Set today, a movie with Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy that I really liked, except for the dumb ending.
These are from several days ago, but you should watch them anyway.
Adorable ticklish baby penguin (Watch to the end. It’s short.)
And this is beautiful. My favorite part is near the beginning, when the movement of the clouds looks like ocean waves.
The Mountain from Terje Sorgjerd on Vimeo.
A few days at home with orders to rest and what do I do? (Besides read, watch TV, watch movies, and commune with newborn puppies via puppy cam, I mean.) I go through my bookmarks. Have some links.
We’ll start with a little geography. The first link is to a couple of maps that compare the latitudes of North American and Western Europe cities. I knew they are farther north than we are, but I did not know that London is farther north than a lot of major Canadian cities. (I like maps.)
The second link is totally awesome and comes from the blog of a British woman who is raising her children in California. She found a video (watch the video) that explains the difference between Great Britain and the United Kingdom and England, Scotland, Wales, etc. Liked the video (the guy talks faster than I do), really like the blog.
My bookmarks are listed alphabetically (can’t remember if that’s automatic or if I did that), and these two both start with A, so you can see I didn’t get very far. It’s a start.
Sorry about all the short posts lately. I have the attention span of a gnat. Also, my face hurts. Although not as much as I was afraid it would. This whole procedure sounds more painful than it has turned out to be. Thank the whatever from high atop the thing. Seems like it would have been fairly simple, right?
Not so simple. Fake teeth don’t have roots. They have screws. Screws that have to be longer than the roots because, I don’t know, they just do. And in order for the new fake tooth to be sturdy, the screw has to be completely surrounded by bone. Can’t have the end of it sticking out in space. It wouldn’t be as sturdy. (What space? Right, the space in the sinus cavity above my teeth and behind my cheek.) The solution is to fill in some of the space with bone. I didn’t ask where they got the bone. Maybe I should have. Anyway, that’s what they did. My sinus cavity is not as big as it once was, and I have a screw sticking out of the hole where my molar used to be. Once it heals completely (about four months), I’ll get a nice new fake tooth.
In the meantime, I get several days on the couch. I’ve watched movies (Whale Rider – good, Saint Ralph – good), lots of TV (catching up on Scrubs and The Good Wife), started watching Harry Connick, Jr’s latest concert DVD (In Concert on Broadway – my good buddy Geoff Burke is in it! Very exciting. (I realize that seeing him play from 3 feet away for an hour and than talking to him for a grand total of maybe 15 minutes at the bar does not a best-friendship make (wait – I haven’t told you about that yet), but don’t think I won’t use every connection I can think up to get backstage the next time Harry is in town. Besides, he was cool. And really good.)), and played on the internet. A lot. And I finished my book (The Forever War). It was very good (as expected). I’d been looking for it in used bookstores everywhere I went, but couldn’t find it, so I finally bought it new. I’m glad I did. The latest edition has a foreword by John Scalzi, who has quickly become my favorite contemporary science fiction author. And blogger.
I’m rambling, so I’m going to quit here and soak up some of this sun before it dissolves into more torrential rain (yesterday was CRAZY with the rain) and read my book on the deck.
…from laughing so hard. I’m seven pages into Damn You Auto Correct!, and the cumulative effect is killing me. Pics of ship phone!
This is why I don’t have any interest in living in Texas. The school textbook thing really bugs me.
Starting to feel better (I’m slowly winning (or losing less) my annual fight with pollen). The Bloggess pointed me to this. Thought I’d share.
These are the wines Mom, Mindy, and I had at the Grapevine Wine Bar in New Orleans. The first one is a sauvignon blanc from New Zealand. Grapefruity. Found it at Wegman’s for $16.99.
The second one is a pinot gris from Oregon. This one tasted like apples (but not like apple juice) and was Mindy’s least favorite (but I really liked it). I found this one at Wegman’s for $12.99.
The third one is a viognier from Argentina. I don’t remember what it tasted like, but it was GOOD. Wegman’s doesn’t carry it. I’ll check Total Wine next time I’m out.
Last, watch this video, courtesy of The Daily What. It’s not long, it’s super-cute, and the tiny bit at the end is John’s favorite part.
Ewan McGregor (say it with me!) is super-cute. Tom and Lorenzo agree.
I’ve never cows look as happy or move as fast as the ones in this video. If I’d been confined to a muddy yard and barn all winter, I’d be happy, too.
(A very special happy-cow-in-spring thank you to nn.c for the video link.)
More credit goes to Nancy for finding Tom and Lorenzo. If you like celebrity fashion (if, like me, you browse through People magazine after the awards shows to see all the dresses while waiting in line at the grocery store) and you want to read snarky critiques, you will love their blog. This post about Daniel Craig is hilarious.
If you’ve ever gotten tired of listening to your three-year-old (or four-year-old or five-year-old or thirteen-year-old) tell jokes badly, you may want to watch this. Or maybe you don’t.
I’m supposed to be packing. Not packing tonight will lead to panic in the morning. Actually, it will lead to not sleeping tonight, since the clothes I’m going to pack are strewn across the bed. (I may be over-packing. A bit. Don’t try and stop me!) So I’m packing.
Have I said where I’m going? I don’t believe I have. From tomorrow night through Friday, I’ll be in New Orleans for work. I have to support a conference for the client. Or support the client at a conference. Whatever. I’m going to miss John’s band’s first gig that isn’t a block party. (Hey, if you’re in or near Bethesda and you want to see a band Saturday night, let me know. I can get you in.)
Right. Packing. I’m going.
And the yard. Several, really, but there’s one that’s getting bigger along the fence line between our yard and one of the neighbor’s (the uphill side). I just let Riley in, and he’s got dirt on his nose, on top of his head, and around one eye. We should start calling him Patch. That neighbor doesn’t have pets, so his yard is probably where all the rabbits live. If we give the dogs enough time, they may soon have two yards to run around in. I can’t believe we have a digging problem. What do we have to do? Fill the holes with rocks? Fill the dogs’ heads with rocks? Done. They came that way.
Yesterday’s XKCD comic is hilarious. And relevant, like I never am.
This is irrelevant, irreverent, and a little unbelievable.
And I’m off to read. Haven’t been doing enough of that lately.
I had some major balance problems in my strength class last night. I kept teetering over during lunges, and when we were doing push-ups on the balance ball (you lay on your stomach on the ball, put your hands on the floor, and walk yourself forward until the ball has rolled down to your shins and ankles), I rolled off three times in a row. I wasn’t the only having problems, though. The guy next to me tried to take out my knee with his weights when he rolled off during chest presses. I forgave him; he looks like Jon Hamm.
Speaking of celebrity look-alikes (who are all around – it’s getting weird), I ran into young Stockard Channing again recently at work. An eerie resemblance, at least in part because she’s not that young. She’s like an alternate version of Stockard Channing – another way she could have looked if she’d aged in another direction. I know exactly what I mean by that, but when I read it over, I don’t know exactly what that means. In the same meeting, there was a woman who looked (and sounded) like Catherine Keener. Maybe it WAS Catherine Keener!
To add to the weirdness in that building (I was downtown when I went to the meeting with all the celebrities), they have a public bathroom that – wait for it – actually smells good. It smells like flowers, clearly an air freshener and not actual flowers, but it’s a nice air freshener that doesn’t seem to be just covering up bad smells. I like that bathroom. I don’t want to hang out in it or anything, but it’s my bathroom of choice before I hit the road to come home.
Oh, oh! Wildlife sighting! The dogs and I were jogging on the trail this evening, and I saw NINE DEER. At once! Just hanging out. They saw us, but they didn’t run (which is why both of my arms are still attached to my body – I think if the deer had taken off, the dogs would have, too); they sort of ambled off into the woods, looking back at us over their shoulders. Nine of them! I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many deer in one place.
When I got home, I got a little lost in TV Tropes. If you’ve never been there, be warned! Don’t do it at work! It can sometimes be hours before you come up for air.
It’s been a very exciting evening.