Ma List.

I've been thinking about my bucket list. And coincidentally, I saw a post on MyFace today that was a tad bit perplexing to me. How can you "stop by" England for two days and then cross it off your bucket list? If one of those days is the day you arrive, you really are losing a bit of that day, so you really only have like a day and a half. Plus if you leave the next day, you lose time. So you really only have 24 hours. Um, what exactly are you doing out of this? Now, I have travel on my bucket list. But seriously? I haven't lived until I've seen a few streets in England? Um, that's just silly. I went to London for about 2 days, and Paris for about 3, and I got just enough of a taste of them to put going back long enough to do some stuff on my bucket list.

I did the whole see the crown jewels/Tower of London/London Bridge thing while I was in London I went to Herrods. I rode the double decker (tourist) bus. Saw Buckingham Palace and the changing of the guard. And I believe I had fish and chips at one point. But I did NOT get to go to Bathe, and see the Jane Austen museum, and run about the streets of Bathe in mocking of the terrible 2008 rendition of Persuasion. Also I didn't get to go wherever it is all my ancestors came from. I want to figure that out and go there. Go see the ol' homestead or whatnot.

I did the whole Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Louvre thing. But I didn't get to sit at a cafe and watch all the parisian-ness go on. And I feel like i should have had more French food instead of just tourist food. So, yeah, France is still totally on my bucket list. Also I could get all down on the homestead there, too.

Basically I will always have travel on the bucket list. I will never finish it. I better hurry up and get independently wealthy.

Two Words Not to Call Me.

I have discovered that there a few words that I really don't enjoy having label me.

1. Emotional. I AM NOT EMOTIONAL. HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT. I THOUGHT YOU KNEW ME, BUT CLEARLY YOU DON'T. STOP LOOKING AT ME. I'M NOT CRYING.

2. Different. Read: Mormon. As in, I didn't invite you to my birthday party because you are different than all my other friends. Okay, I don't completely hate that word, because I suppose it is true. But I hate it when people use it as an excuse for leaving me out.

What is With the Running from a Blowing Up Building Thing?

As I was flipping through the crappy TV tonight (WHAT is UP with this season, btw???), I flipped past the requisite Running from the Burning Building Which Explodes As the Last Guy Exits, Throwing Him in the Air scene. Um, really, TV writers? You need to step up your game. That shot is so Magnum PI, 1983. I'm just saying. It was cutting edge (sort of) THEN. Now, it's just goofy. And sticking a kid in the group is just silly. Especially after the scene before that with the two chicks fighting in the pool trying to drown each other, interrupted by the brute of a man with a gun held to an innocent looking little boy's head. Um. Dumb. Not even suspenseful. Just dumb. And kind of bringing to mind that one stupid commercial by the medical company I will not name because I have their stupid insurance and I hate them with a passion that will not die. You know, the one where he shoots down all their stupid story plot lines, and they continue to describe what can only be Really Bad Soap Opera material. Okay, some of their bits kind of describe Grey's, but whatever, Patrick is hot. So shut up.

And another thing. WHAT IS WITH THE LAW PROCEDURALS??? The other night all three of the major network channels had one on at the same time. And all three sucked. Are they having a suckage contest? WHYYYYYYYYY?? And right behind that in the suckage competition is the Medical Procedurals. Um, are there no other professions in the world? Why, networks, why? If it were not for Castle, The Mentalist, and Fringe, I would despair for the world. Because clearly mysteries are better. Also they are funny.

Remember the days of A-Team, Wonder Woman, and Magnum PI? When every-day joes (ok, not totally every day-- I personally never wear my leotard out of the house, let alone in my invisible jet) would save the day? Siiigh. Those were the DAYS. Networks, this sensational crap isn't working for you. How about some actual good writing? Go crazy. You never know where it will lead you. Because, so help me, if I see one more show about the rookie chick cop with something to prove and the perfect hairdo and figure to boot, I am going to... well, be forced to Netflix Magnum PI. Because clearly the fact that I referenced it twice means I need a little more Higgins in my life.

The People I Meet

Sometimes in my line-o-work, I meet people who really, reeeally believe they are REALLY good people. Because they Give Back to their community. It looks something like this (there is kind of a spoiler alert for Dr Horrible's Sing-a-long blog, so if you have it in your Netflix queue, I'm warning you now... and if you don't have it in your queue, I might disown you):

Except I've never seen anyone break out into song. That is to say, I haven't seen any of the volunteers break out into song. The staff, yes. But that's another story. Also I like to think that most of the volunteers I work with are just doing the best they can, and not just loving themselves the way Captain Hammer loves himself. And hey, even self-adoration could accidentally result in learning to be socially responsible and open their eyes to some reality. I choose to be all optimistic like that.

Efficient Movie Watching 101

If you don't know about the Bunnies, then your life is sadly incomplete. For instance, this recap of Star Wars is helpful. I think Little Man would especially appreciate it for the Chewbacca parts.

Also, been hearing about this Twilight thing, but don't want to commit to the whole movie? Me neither.

I see there's one for New Moon, too. I'm thinking I might just watch that one and call the movie watched.

What I Learned on Summer Vacation; Or, You Got to Have Friends.

One day during my high school career, one of my friends caught me in the midst of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The next day, I got a funny little greeting card every class period that day. Somehow, this friend got hold of my schedule, beat me to all of my classes, and if memory serves, left the card where I actually sat in each class and disappeared before I got there. I still have all six of those cards. They totally cheered me up. And sometimes, I pull them out and they cheer me up all over again.

That gesture, to me, is a great illustration of a good friend. I am coming to appreciate good quality friends more and more.

I have learned (mostly through a few good friends practically beating this into my head because I was not using my listening ears) that good friends:

1. Give you some room to be imperfect.

2. Tell you when you are being stupid. With love, of course, and accepting that you might not listen to them. Because you're stupid. But they have faith you are doing the best you can. And that some day you will not be stupid.

3. Call you to check up on you when they know you've had a crappy day/week/month. Or they text. Or IM. Or send you pictures of their cute babies. Or they show up at your house with cheesecake. I'm just saying. You know. If anyone wants to demonstrate that last one....

4. Tell you cheesy jokes to distract you from your crappy, crappy mood. And do goofy things until you laugh really, really hard.

5. Leave you chocolate in your office. It hasn't happened to me. But I have faith that someday it totally will. I just have to get certain people to start reading my blog....

6. Read my blog. I'm just saying. If you're reading this you get extra points. You know, in my friend competition.

I Blame My Pack Rattery On Mom.

Big Sis told me today that my blog is looking stale.

Um, I do not know what you mean. Just because I had to pause and think about what my address is when typing it into my browser.... That proves nothing.

Today I would like to talk about junk. As in, all the junk I own. That I have to pack. Because I am moving. And that depresses me. Not the moving part. That should be fun and exciting. After I find the apartment, that is.

But the PACKING. Where did I get all this stuff??? And seriously, I did some purging last year when I was unemployed and all restless.

The last time I moved, one of my friends remarked to me that I would have to get rid of some books because I was out of room on my bookshelf. *GASP* I am still friends with her, but it's been rocky, to say the least. I question her values, really. So skimming down on the books is out.

I've thought about getting rid of all the shirts that I don't quite fit right now. But then what will I wear next month when I have lost 10 months from the stress and physical exertion of moving? Really, one must be practical.

Shoes. I could get rid of some shoes. I have a few pairs I don't ever wear. That should free up... an eighth of a box.

Pottery. I could get rid of some. But I made it! And I don't want to throw it away. So pottery for one and all for Christmas, I say!

Old nail polish and assorted old stuff under the sink in the bathroom. Okay. Now we are getting somewhere. There goes 1/16th of a box from the bathroom.

Broken stuff. That should knock down at least one medium size box. Shut up. I was going to fix it all.

Old magazines. One small box. Because I was going to read them again. Some day.

What else? How do I make it all go away so I don't have to pack it? And don't say the gnomes. 'Cause they are totally going with.