You will all be relieved to know that you won't get those little forward lists about me with fun facts anymore, because I will just post them here. And I know you will read them. Because what is more fun than learning more fun facts about me? I
Five things I Was Doing Ten Years Ago
1. Washing Dishes at the Missionary Training Center and practically breaking my big toe (but the food fights made up for it.)
2. Sleeping through Earth Science class. Lesson learned: do not register for 8am classes
3. Wondering why Wendy was not writing me back.
4. Crushing on Steve. Siiiigh. Steve. So dreamy.
5. Living in a state where they get real snow, AND snow plows so they don't shut down when it snows.
Five things on my To Do List
1. Christmas shopping for family and friends... which is made difficult by my lack of ideas
2. Download songs onto my new MP3 player so I can ignore all the people at the gym
3. Decide what I want to do with my day off I'm giving myself for my birthday
4. Break myself of this habit I've gotten into of leaving dishes in the sink so K doesn't kill me
5. Find the fuzzy little chicken
Five things I'd do if I was a Millionaire
1. Buy a house
2. Travel around the world (Europe 1st!)
3. Pay off my parent's house for them as back-rent
4. Get a masters degree and possibly a PhD
5. Set up my own little pottery workshop and become a master potter
Five Things I'd Never Do Again
1. Yell at my friend Jason in High School in a completely irrational girl way and make him hate me forever.
2. Let my gas tank run so low that I stall on the way up a steep hill and have to have two nice ladies help me push my car to the curb, and some nice man go get gas from his house.
3. Go to a church dance (I got that out of my system in high school...)
4. Cut my own bangs (4th graders should not be allowed near scissors)
5. Say yes to a date just to make the annoyingly clueless boy stop following me around, because, hello, if you can't catch a clue then you just get to suffer through a date.
Five Favorite Toys/Possessions
1. laptop
2. DVR
3. Bed and the warm, warm comforter on it
4. Bookshelves full of books
5. Muppet Mugs
Five Things I've Read Recently (or am still working on)
1. An Assembly Such as This
2. A Room with a View
3. Starting to read An Independant Woman
4. Starting to read Middlemarch
5. It's sad but I can't think of a 5th book right now. I'm becoming illiterate. I blame it on the laptop.
If you want to cut and paste this and email me your responses you can. Only my cool friends ever answer me...
Thursday, November 29, 2007
7 Days Til Old Begins
Today is Thursday. Next Thursday I turn 30. To celebrate, I'm going to a meeting for work. Sounds like good times, huh? Generally I don't tell my volunteers it's my birthday (I know, hard to imagine, right? There ARE people I don't remind once a week all year long when my birthday is), but this year I told my teens, who told their mothers, who put two and two together and realized it was on a night I have a meeting. And we're meeting at a restaurant that night since it's December and, you know, restaurants are festive. So there is the potential for not only my volunteers to make it a big thing, but to do it in a public place. Which believe it or not I don't enjoy. I know it may SEEM like I want all the attention on my birthday by the way I talk and talk and talk about it, but really, I hate having lots and lots of eyes turned on me. It makes me really uncomfortable to have whole rooms full of people looking at me and singing me happy birthday. Small is best. But it should be all about me. Because I'm the princess. The old princess.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
It's the End of the World as We Know It
And I feel fine.
So I have this song as a ring on my phone for one of my best friends. The reason I have this ring is to remind myself to chill. It's fitting because when I get all dramatic, emotional, and/or irrational, said friend reminds me that I need to relax. Sometimes I really don't need to relax; sometimes I really DO have reason to be all worked up, dangit! But that's a topic for another blog.
This song came to have this meaning to me in college. I was having a rather rough Senior year, and was stressing about things which in hindsight were the stupidest things to stress about. One night I took a little drive up the canyon and stopped at a little park that had a river. Water calms me. (Remember that if I ever start getting all emotional and girly around you... just drive me to water-- but under no circumstances tell me to calm down). So I took a while to become one with nature and find my happy, and then I got back in the car. I had come to the conclusion that I was blowing things out of proportion, and was thinking that all my little drama was not the end of the world. And then I turned the car on, and the song was playing. It felt like a message that, yes, I am an overdramatic dork. It's been my "get a grip!" song ever since. And I feel fine.
On the flipside, instead of an angry song I have a whole angry cd... Fiona Apple. If you hear it playing just back away slowly and no one will get hurt.
On another note, check this out...
So I have this song as a ring on my phone for one of my best friends. The reason I have this ring is to remind myself to chill. It's fitting because when I get all dramatic, emotional, and/or irrational, said friend reminds me that I need to relax. Sometimes I really don't need to relax; sometimes I really DO have reason to be all worked up, dangit! But that's a topic for another blog.
This song came to have this meaning to me in college. I was having a rather rough Senior year, and was stressing about things which in hindsight were the stupidest things to stress about. One night I took a little drive up the canyon and stopped at a little park that had a river. Water calms me. (Remember that if I ever start getting all emotional and girly around you... just drive me to water-- but under no circumstances tell me to calm down). So I took a while to become one with nature and find my happy, and then I got back in the car. I had come to the conclusion that I was blowing things out of proportion, and was thinking that all my little drama was not the end of the world. And then I turned the car on, and the song was playing. It felt like a message that, yes, I am an overdramatic dork. It's been my "get a grip!" song ever since. And I feel fine.
On the flipside, instead of an angry song I have a whole angry cd... Fiona Apple. If you hear it playing just back away slowly and no one will get hurt.
On another note, check this out...
Yup, that's my knee. Hot, isn't it? I wacked it into a desk drawer at work last month. Twice. That night I went to show it to my roommate, thinking it would be about the size of a half-dollar at the most, and it had covered my WHOLE knee in this marbley bruise. It was even swollen. Now that's talent. It went away pretty quick so I didn't get to show it to many people. Thank goodness for cameras so I can share it with you all now. I know you are probably thankful for cameras now, too. Sorry it's not the best quality... but I'm sure you can imagine how beautiful it was in real life. So, one of you told me that I do not have the corner on Clumsy. To which I say, take it back!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Wrath of Holliberry
There are one or two things in life that make me truly angry.
1. Lying. I would not advise lying to me. It invokes in my a white hot rage. Not the kind of rage that might entertain certain people who think it's fun to tease me. The kind that makes you wonder why I am so calm... and why it is freaking you out.
2. Conversations between people that involve the phrase "we won't tell Holliberry because it will upset her/make her angry/ crush her soul." Because usually it's just that the parties involved just don't want to deal with my reaction, be it anger or irritation or whatever. Plus they usually don't know my heart as well as they think.
Example: I had not so much even a crush, but a bond with a boy in my school days. My roommate knew it was not a real crush, because she knew the actual boy I had been crushing on all year. After I graduated the past roommate went on a date or two with said male friend. In a conversation between one of my closest friends and this roommate during a chance meeting on campus, it was decided that the roommate should not tell me they had gone on a date, because "it would upset me." Apparently the two of them decided it would be irreversibly damaging to my psyche. Which it totally wouldn't have. It was actually more upsetting to me that they thought I was sitting at home pining over this guy who was definitely not pining over me, and that I was so pathetic I had all my hopes pinned on a relationship that clearly would never happen, where no feelings had been declared on either side, and where the boy was never interested in me and never would be as anything more than a friend. (Not a problem, I had other boys to crush on.) Because apparently I'm dumber than I thought, and they saw the true me, the one who was delusional about love and must be protected lest we have to put her in straight jacket or lock her in a tower and hope she doesn't burn the house down or something. And I'm pretty sure the boy was under orders not to tell me, too. Which, hello, ego much to buy into the idea that I was all the sudden desperately in love with him?
I hate that feeling when you have a very clear sense that the person or group of people you just had a conversation with had mapped it out in advance in order to "handle" you. I don't like to be handled. It makes me cranky and brings out my stubborn streak. And last I checked I don't generally fly into rages, and I rarely break down into tears (if you disagree with that, you're probably the one person who has seen more tears fall out of my ducts than you might have thought humanly possible. Most of you have rarely seen me cry- crying over math tests doesn't count).
How about you? Do you want them to keep it from you or tell you? See the little comments option down there? You should use that... Then I'll know if anyone's actually ever going to read my blog.
1. Lying. I would not advise lying to me. It invokes in my a white hot rage. Not the kind of rage that might entertain certain people who think it's fun to tease me. The kind that makes you wonder why I am so calm... and why it is freaking you out.
2. Conversations between people that involve the phrase "we won't tell Holliberry because it will upset her/make her angry/ crush her soul." Because usually it's just that the parties involved just don't want to deal with my reaction, be it anger or irritation or whatever. Plus they usually don't know my heart as well as they think.
Example: I had not so much even a crush, but a bond with a boy in my school days. My roommate knew it was not a real crush, because she knew the actual boy I had been crushing on all year. After I graduated the past roommate went on a date or two with said male friend. In a conversation between one of my closest friends and this roommate during a chance meeting on campus, it was decided that the roommate should not tell me they had gone on a date, because "it would upset me." Apparently the two of them decided it would be irreversibly damaging to my psyche. Which it totally wouldn't have. It was actually more upsetting to me that they thought I was sitting at home pining over this guy who was definitely not pining over me, and that I was so pathetic I had all my hopes pinned on a relationship that clearly would never happen, where no feelings had been declared on either side, and where the boy was never interested in me and never would be as anything more than a friend. (Not a problem, I had other boys to crush on.) Because apparently I'm dumber than I thought, and they saw the true me, the one who was delusional about love and must be protected lest we have to put her in straight jacket or lock her in a tower and hope she doesn't burn the house down or something. And I'm pretty sure the boy was under orders not to tell me, too. Which, hello, ego much to buy into the idea that I was all the sudden desperately in love with him?
I hate that feeling when you have a very clear sense that the person or group of people you just had a conversation with had mapped it out in advance in order to "handle" you. I don't like to be handled. It makes me cranky and brings out my stubborn streak. And last I checked I don't generally fly into rages, and I rarely break down into tears (if you disagree with that, you're probably the one person who has seen more tears fall out of my ducts than you might have thought humanly possible. Most of you have rarely seen me cry- crying over math tests doesn't count).
How about you? Do you want them to keep it from you or tell you? See the little comments option down there? You should use that... Then I'll know if anyone's actually ever going to read my blog.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
The Birth of a Guttersnipe
Why guttersnipe? Short answer: because I like to call my friends names.
Or we could go with the long answer. Because I know you were hoping for story time. Guttersnipe is one of my many nicknames, and it was bequeathed upon me in my college days by my good friend Brat. He got that one from me. His roommate was Goober. Goober added the lesser known "sucks-to be-you" middle name that does not get pulled out anymore (he probably doesn't remember giving it to me, and if I were smart, I would let that one die a quiet death instead of posting it on a blog. But, hey, I have yet to explore whether you all will read it, so I'm feeling pretty good about my chances).
It all stemmed from discussion about terms of endearment. I called someone a name, and had to explain that really, that just showed my love for them. I think it might have been that I called Brat by the name I shall forever call him. From that day forward, Brat was the one true Brat. And Goober was born soon after. I got the more loving name of Holliberry from Brat, but he also embarked on a quest for a name equal to the love expressed in "Brat."
And then, one night, we were watching My Fair Lady. I have no idea what made the boys allow us to put that movie on in their presence, but one or two of them sat down and watched it with us. I have a hard time sitting through that one, and I'm a chick. Because, hello, "bring me my slippers?" Eliza should have hucked them at his head and left him for the stalker hanging out on the sidewalk. But I digress. We were watching that movie, and in one of the scenes, the main guy whose name escapes me called Eliza guttersnipe. At least I think it was him. I could be making that part up. In any case the name was flung out. And Brat turned to me, his quest at an end, and said, "Guttersnipe!" And Guttersnipe was born.
If you think I don't have a name for you, think harder. Most of you have them.
Or we could go with the long answer. Because I know you were hoping for story time. Guttersnipe is one of my many nicknames, and it was bequeathed upon me in my college days by my good friend Brat. He got that one from me. His roommate was Goober. Goober added the lesser known "sucks-to be-you" middle name that does not get pulled out anymore (he probably doesn't remember giving it to me, and if I were smart, I would let that one die a quiet death instead of posting it on a blog. But, hey, I have yet to explore whether you all will read it, so I'm feeling pretty good about my chances).
It all stemmed from discussion about terms of endearment. I called someone a name, and had to explain that really, that just showed my love for them. I think it might have been that I called Brat by the name I shall forever call him. From that day forward, Brat was the one true Brat. And Goober was born soon after. I got the more loving name of Holliberry from Brat, but he also embarked on a quest for a name equal to the love expressed in "Brat."
And then, one night, we were watching My Fair Lady. I have no idea what made the boys allow us to put that movie on in their presence, but one or two of them sat down and watched it with us. I have a hard time sitting through that one, and I'm a chick. Because, hello, "bring me my slippers?" Eliza should have hucked them at his head and left him for the stalker hanging out on the sidewalk. But I digress. We were watching that movie, and in one of the scenes, the main guy whose name escapes me called Eliza guttersnipe. At least I think it was him. I could be making that part up. In any case the name was flung out. And Brat turned to me, his quest at an end, and said, "Guttersnipe!" And Guttersnipe was born.
If you think I don't have a name for you, think harder. Most of you have them.
2 am and I Are Best Friends
The best time to decide to start a blog and make your first post has got to be 2 am. I just spent half an hour staring at my computer screen blankly thinking about what the title would be. Which is silly because I need to go to bed and I will undoubtedly change it before I tell anyone I have a blog. But I have this pretty new computer and 2 am has become my new best friend as a result. Who wants to go to bed when you can be picking fonts AND ripping CD's for your mp3 player all at one time. Oh, and my laundry's done. I'm a multi-tasker. Bet you didn't know that about me. A laptop can do that for you.
The other great thing about 2am is that it helps me to hold true to the "ramblings" part of my title that may or may not be the same tomorrow. I ramble good. Just like I write good. So a blog is the perfect outlet for my talents.
The other great thing about 2am is that it helps me to hold true to the "ramblings" part of my title that may or may not be the same tomorrow. I ramble good. Just like I write good. So a blog is the perfect outlet for my talents.
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