Over-Teched

The other day, my co-worker needed to take some pictures, but her phone battery was dead. So, she asked if my iPod had a camera on it. I said, "Yes, but I also have my camera here." (I know. Weird, you are thinking. Well, I am pretending like I'm developing my photography skills and that I have a hobby, so I carry it around with me most days. It's not like I am short on room in my backpack).

As I was walking to my locker to get said camera, I realized that not only did I have my iPod's camera and my camera camera, my Kindle has a camera, and so does my phone. All of which were in my locker or on my person. Meaning I had 4, yes 4, cameras to choose from.

I would like to point out that only one of those cameras was purchased for the actual purpose of taking pictures. The camera feature was not a motivating factor for any of the other devices. And of the 3 device cameras, I only use the iPod, and that only occasionally, because I prefer the quality of my Camera.

So, can anyone explain why every tech toy has to have a camera? Because I think it's a bit much, myself.

What I love about Christmas

1. The lights. I LOVE Christmas lights! I will probably go blind someday, because in December, I read by the light of Christmas lights. In college, we once decorated our apartment with 15? 20? strands of Christmas lights. It was quite bright. (18 year old exuberance).

2. Christmas music. I am partial to religious ones (it is, after all, the context of the celebration). "O Holy Night" and "Carol of the Bells" are probably my favorites. Oh, and "Silent Night". I do enjoy "I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas", because it makes me think of my nieces and nephews. And "Feliz Navidad", which has a fun story about me and nicknames, and my nephew loves it, too.

3. Christmas shopping. Okay, this is kind of a love hate, but I do love coming up with gifts for people. That is really fun for me.

4. Christmas treats. My favorite is Cereal Candy, which is something my mom always made. And it isn't like I couldn't make it any old time, but I don't, because it belongs to Christmas.

5. Family. I am especially glad I have nieces and nephews because Christmas needs kids.

6. Snow. I am not necessarily a fan of the mess it makes of the roads, or the cold, but I love snow at Christmas time. For some reason, it just belongs.

7. The nativity. I love nativity scenes. I love the story. I love the little baby, and the whole scene. I haven't found a nativity for myself yet (I did make one, which is in storage, and it's cool because I designed it and everything), but I'm looking.

8. Movies. Not that these are essential for the holiday, but the one I do love is Mr. Kreuger's Christmas. Especially the scene at the manger, because that is so me. I can skip out on all the other movies, but that scene really brings things into focus for me.

9. Decorations. I love Christmas villages, and ornaments and LIGHTS (oh wait, I already said that one!). For some reason this year I have a thing for penguins, and really want a penguin ornament, but I have no idea why. But I do love decorations. The Christmas section is a huge black hole for me. I just get sucked in!

10. The spirit of the season. I don't know if I think it changes everyone else, but there is a spirit I try to capture. And I try to keep that more than just at Christmas, but it is more special at Christmas. Like I've been doing it and trying to not be noticed, and then in December I get to let it all out. It changes me, and even if I don't always feel as Christmas-spirited as I want to, it is always a reminder to me of what I am working for and where I'm going and who I want to become. Something about it is just different. December is like the weekend of months, and I love it.

I just love Christmas!

The path of least resistance

I like to keep life as simple as I can. Or at least, I want to be the kind of person that keeps things simple. I never know how much my real self matches up with my idea of myself and my ideal of myself. Generally speaking, probably not superbly well, but I digress. Back to simple. I like to keep life simple and generally I have found that being good is the simplest option. I mean, I hope I choose to be good because I want to be good (again, real-perceived-ideal correlation hasn't been accurately measured), but I think that even if I didn't want to be good (which I do), from a practical point of view, I'd still generally choose to do the right thing. It is SO much easier.

For example: You need money so you decide to rob a bank. Let's talk about all the work that goes into that. First, you have to pick a bank. Then you have to come up with a plan. It could be your basic snatch and grab, or you could go Ocean's Eleven elaborate (which is even more work. I mean, seriously. Put your ingenuity to work and get a job! Save the prison sentence!). But you still need to at least have a plan, right? I don't know--I don't rob banks, but I guess it's possible people waltz in on a whim and hold up a bank. Seems dumb to me, but then, robbing banks seems dumb to me. Like I say, too much work.

Your plan is probably going to require a lot of work. You have to coordinate with any abettors you may have (and recruit them--more work), have a getaway plan, contingency plans for when things don't follow the plan, coordinate schedules, find parking. I mean, it's a mess. A huge hassle. And you aren't even getting paid for it. At work, when I have to coordinate meetings, etc., I'm earning money doing it.

Then, presuming you manage to rob the bank. You have to spend the rest of your life on the run--new identity, moving all the time, possibly leaving the country so you don't get caught. You have to lie to everyone you meet, which requires an amazingly agile mind, which if you have one, why waste it robbing banks (just sayin'). And the money runs out eventually, so you've done all that work for what? It's just so much stress. And, if you don't manage to not get caught, you get the joys of prison, which I guess does save some stress. No bills, you don't have to go to work everyday, no deciding what's for dinner or grocery shopping. But is it worth the cost? No privacy, a pretty big public relations issue when you get out, and I have never heard recommendations for the local prison cuisine.

And that is pretty much the case with anything you shouldn't be doing. Sure, it seems easier up front to rob the bank--no job interview, no actual working for an income, but when you really think it through, a job is so much less work. Really.

So, yeah. Just be good. It's so much easier.

It's all fun and games

This weekend, I got to play games with my nephew. He is 4, and we were on the same team for one game. Which was fantastic. He even earned us points. We played Dixit, and Farkle, and he played games on my Kindle.

One of the things I love about playing games with him is that the rules are kind of optional. It's not that he's cheating, it's just that at 4, rules are still tricky things to understand sometimes, and in all of the games we played, he adhered to them in varying degrees. But mostly he did pretty good. My favorite though was a game he played on the Kindle.

He really didn't know the object of the game, and I didn't do so great at explaining it. I showed him how to play, just not what the goal was. But the beautiful thing was, he always believed he'd won (the game had a certain number of moves and you had to complete the mission before that) whether he'd completed the mission or not. And he just enjoyed the graphics and all the cool tricks and learning new tricks and figure it out. He really honestly was just having fun and playing.

That's what I love about playing games with him. It is just so easy and simple and all about having fun and going with the flow. It's creative. When I play a game, I'm not super competitive. I like games because it's fun to be with people, and I like learning as I play. Learning new strategies and ways to play. I'm competing against myself really, and I like the challenge of learning to play better. But that is not creative. Playing with my nephew is very creative, and I love it. And I love how uncomplicated his world is. He wins because he is a winner. Of course, he's going to grow out of it soon, and that will be sad, but in the meantime, I love playing with him.

Books I will never write

The Life of a Social Butterfly

Become a Better Decision Maker

What to Do with Your First Million

Ten Steps to a Healthier Lifestyle

Invent Your Own Recipes: A Guide to Creativity in the Kitchen

Master Plan: Getting what you want out of life

The Life and Times of a Zen Fashionista

Gaming the Rat Race: My Dirty Journey to the Top

The Price of Fame: A Celebrity's Tale

Public Speaking for Wallflowers

Sleep Less, Do More

The Anti-Chocolatier

11, 12, 13...

Today at work someone mentioned that the date is 11/12/13. Which means it's one of the last 'cool' dates to get married on for a long time (next year there will be 12/13/14, but after that, you're pretty much out of luck), so if you are looking for something like that in a wedding date, you have a few short hours to elope.

I figured that blogging on 11/12/13 would be commemoration enough. And today I saw the most incredible thing:

Okay, so it isn't a good picture, although it does give you an idea. I'm a little concerned about the proportions of everything, and their placement, because it doesn't seem like this would all fit on the globe without overlapping at the top. And I don't think Russia sits on top of Canada. It's as if the map were drawn looking down from the North Pole. (Okay, my cartographer brother, tell me about Mercator Projections).

But speaking of Russia: Yeah. There is no Russia. It is the "Union of Soviet Socialist Republics." (Again, sorry, bad picture, I did my best in a semi-dark hall shooting through glass). Now for all you young folks out there, this is back from the days of the Cold War, which seems silly now in many ways, but was rather frightening to contemplate. The USSR ended in the early '90's, breaking up into Russia, all those Eastern European countries, and a lot of '-stans'. So, this map is very outdated. But it reminds me so much of my childhood, because we had a map with the USSR on it, and I remember how much I enjoyed spreading out that map and examining all the countries on it, seeing how far they were, all the interesting names, their capitals. My sister and I once planned a route (probably entirely infeasible) around the world, hitting all of the countries we wanted to go to. I have a soft spot for maps with the USSR because they bring back some good memories. Although it is pretty ridiculous that this map is still hanging in a building. (And NOT a building that houses archives.)

Anyway, it was a nice little trip down memory lane, and maybe sometime I'll go back and get better pictures. And learn about Mercator Projection. And find all the other countries that have changed since this map was made.

Ah, life.

It's official

Winter has arrived. I know, I know, the calendar says it hasn't, but the calendar doesn't have to walk to the bus stop in the morning in snow and wind.

I knew it was going to happen eventually, I just wasn't ready for it so soon. I thought maybe a week or two at least. But no such luck.

I'm not totally anti-winter. I actually do like having a winter, rather than just less warm. But somehow, this year there is a bit of sad about it. Probably just my own melancholy, and there is a special something about winter (snow is pretty. It's just so darn cold!)

I think that the first snow should automatically result in a day off the next day, because snow begs to be enjoyed from the comfort of one's covers.

And I'm back to the bus stop, and how cold it is going to be, and how I really need to leave the house 15 minutes before I usually do, which means I should go to sleep. And at least briefly enjoy the snowfall from under the covers as I fall asleep.

Nothing kills the magic of winter like the reality of morning.

Feeling all handy

A while ago, I decided it was time to get a dresser. I was tired of having clothes all over the place, and figured at least with a dresser, I could shut the mess away from view if it didn't motivate me to fold them and keep them all nice and orderly. I also figured if I had a dresser, there would be another surface on which to place things (no, I'm not making this up. This is really one of the reasons I wanted a dresser), which would be immensely helpful given my current arrangement of little furniture because I have no idea how long I will be here, even though I've been saying that for a year and a half.

I considered buying a used dresser, but most of them were huge and too hard to move with limited transportation access and cost a lot more than I wanted to pay for a used dresser. Instead, I caved and went the Ikea route. I didn't need anything flashy, so I could go with low end whatever and make do. But, when I got to Ikea I found out almost all their dressers are pressboard, except one line, which is pine. And it seemed really absurd to spend money on pressboard when I could have spent the same amount on a huge dresser made of wood. Maybe. And it's nice to have furniture that doesn't sag. So I spent twice as much as I'd planned and bought a pine dresser that needed to be stained, varnished, and assembled. And part of the justification for this was it would be nice to have a project. (Again, yes, I really did think this). I knew there would be a nice sense of satisfaction in completing it,it would give a sense of ownership and pride, and the work would be good for me.

All of which was true, although I did learn a few things. First, when you live in an apartment with limited space and it is October/November and too cold to work outside, you should stop and reconsider the timing of your furniture project. It worked out just fine and warm weather may not have really helped in the end, but still. Apartments are not conducive to furniture assembly. 

I also learned that screwing in screws that refuse to go straight into the whole requires a LOT of muscle, most of the muscle being contributed by ones I don't use that often, it would seem. I'm sore. This led me to the third very important thing that I learned: it is time for me to get a drill. (Of course, having a drill might compel me to find reasons to use it, but that could be a good thing, right? Sure.)

Anyway, I finally finished my project yesterday, and it does look really nice (although I'm sure if you looked closely you'd see how amateurish the effort was). It was really satisfying, and I'm pleased with it, and it's great to say, "I did all this work." And, without any apologies, I'm going to show it off. 

Ta Da! (Notice the piles of stuff on top. Told you I wasn't kidding about that). So, now that that project is done, I guess I should come up with another one. Hmmm. Maybe I'll try writing that great American novel everyone talks about...

Who writes the rules?

A couple of weeks ago, I went to visit my sister and her family and I kind of chuckled because her 8-year old boy put on a pair of brown plaid shorts with a brown striped shirt. Now, the browns matched wonderfully. Really close to the same shade. But, yeah, generally people discourage mixing patterns, right?

Or not. The next day, I went to church and someone was wearing an outfit of stripes, paisley, and possibly different stripes or another pattern. And not even matching colors. Grey stripes, gold and navy blue paisley, some other color on top. And everyone was totally fine with it. (Mind you, this girl is an artist, and she has the personality to carry off an outfit like that, whereas I absolutely do not.) And I actually wouldn't have bat an eye at it myself, except for the plaid-stripe combo being on my mind. Most likely. Yet I know that mothers everywhere would do everything in their power to discourage such a combination in their children. And if a twenty-something wore the brown-stripe-plaid combo, they'd get a lot of flack, but certainly it's more logical than the other outfit. I mean, the colors match and everything. 

So who writes these rules, anyway? I have never understood fashion. I think I manage to dress in an acceptable manner. (Sometimes I do wonder. I find myself at work thinking, wait, is this really an outfit that works? Are the colors okay? Do they styles work together? Help! I'm a grown woman who doesn't know how to dress herself!) And I think I definitely know when something looks really awful. (*cough* quilted pillowcase skirt *cough*). But I really would like to know who is writing the rules of fashion, because I have a few suggestions for them. 

1. You should not wear lingerie to a red carpet event. Or in public. Ever. It embarrasses everyone. 

2. If you have to wear pants underneath it (aka leggings), it's not a dress. It's just a very long shirt. (Which is not to say it should never be worn, but the distinction is important).  

3. We should break the rules occasionally and where bright summer colors in winter. Winter is depressing enough without everyone wearing dark colors. 

4. The 80's were bad enough the first time. 

5. There is no excuse for a wardrobe malfunction. I have never heard of a wardrobe malfunction that couldn't have been avoided by wearing something that actually covers a person. Which is, after all, the purpose of clothing. (If I wanted to study anatomy, I'd take a class.)

6. There should be cute shoes for people with wide(r) feet. Seriously. We like to have awesome shoes, too. 

7. Pants really do function better when the waist is at the waist. I know, it's a bit radical, but you know, it really sends the wrong impression when you have to hold your pants up while you walk. (No exaggeration. I have seen this. Poor guy was trying to talk on the phone and having all sorts of problems trying to do that and keep from walking out of his pants. And the way you have to walk to not lose your pants? It can't be good for you). 

So there you go. A few rules I'd like submitted for vote at the next big rule-making meeting for the fashion world. My work here is finished. 

Bah Humbug

Halloween is a weird holiday. I am sure that there was a time when it actually met something but now, anyone would be hard pressed to say it is anything more than a day to wear costumes and get candy. I suppose neither of those are bad things in and of themselves, but it is really hard to get excited about a day that is kind of meaningless. Not that it is bad to do something just for fun. I'm all about fun. It just seems kind of odd to have a day set aside to dress up and get candy, and nothing else. Although it is a pretty decent way to generate a theme for a party.

Anyway, I'm a bit of a Halloween grinch this year. No, I'm not running around stealing candy and masks from kids. But I am totally devoid of any Halloween spirit (which, what is the Halloween spirit, anyway?) I've never really gone big when it comes to celebrating and always kind of dreaded it a little. I hate coming up with costume ideas. (One year, I had the idea to be a hula dancer. That was one of my favorite Halloweens, because I was actually excited about my costume). Nowadays, I don't even have to worry about costumes, so at least that was an improvement. I didn't buy candy (which, I live in a secure building, which is kind of off-putting for trick-or-treating), didn't see any trick-or-treaters. No pumpkins. Nothing. It was kind of an ambivalent holiday.

On the bright side, though, it was a great excuse to come home, put in Arsenic and Old Lace, which is a fantastic show, and finish staining my dresser. Which is probably a really lame way to celebrate Halloween, but really, is it any worse than playing dress up?

In case of amnesia...

So, for work we had to take one of those personality/strengths assessments as part of a larger strategic planning process (just go with it). I'm always a little bit of a skeptic when it comes to these kinds of assessments, not because they aren't accurate at all. The results actually do give a very general description of my personality. For example, with this assessment, my number one strength was context (and here you will see one of the reasons why I'm a bit skeptical with this particular assessment. Context? What on earth does that even mean? Also, they were making up words. Very jargony. Which makes me suspicious.) Implying that I like to know the whole story. Which is true. Even while taking the test, I was thinking, "Well, in my current situation, I think X, but if the situation changed, I would probably say Y." Or "I don't know! Tell me the situation, and then I can answer the question." Yes, I do like me a bit of context.

That being said, I would hardly use the word "context" to describe myself to someone. I wouldn't even list it as one of my qualities. Yes, I know that I think a certain way, but that is not the only way I think. Which is what bugs me about these types of assessments. I have never EVER met anyone that could be so neatly categorized and labeled. Especially by a series of questions that you have to answer based on a rating scale along the lines of "strongly describes me". I think I chafe at the idea that someone thinks I am so non-unique that I can be stuck in a box like that. Call it my pride, but I really don't think that these assessments can get at the soul of a person. They boil you down to a list of characteristics, tell you what you should and shouldn't do in your career and how to adapt to the world, but always, always describing a mold. People are not molds.

I think I also feel a bit of chagrin that they think they know me better than I know myself. I know what I am capable of, and while their little test tells me that I should look for X opportunities at work, I know what I need. I have spent many many years learning about me, and do not need some assessment or algorithm to tell me who I am. If you want to know what I think I need in a job, ask me. Don't ask some dumb assessment written by a guy trying to sell a product (and this one is a HUGE sell). Especially when of all the strengths in the world, this person boiled them down to 34. Really? There are only 34 strengths? Come on. I'm definitely not sold.

So, seeing as I don't have amnesia, and I know myself fairly well (having spent every waking moment and non-waking moment of my life with myself!) I intend to take all of this with an enormous salt lick.

So there.

40 great hours a week

I really like my job. I really do. It is a wonderful and terrific thing to know that there are going to be 40 hours every week that are just going to be great.

First, I work with really awesome people. I think it's a black hole for good people, only maybe black hole is the wrong term. It would be a white hole in terms of good and evil, right, because they are so good?

Second, I do really cool work. Most people don't really think so, but they don't have to, because it's my job and I don't want competition. I am an archivist and for people who are clueless what I do, I usually explain it by saying, I go through other people's papers and decide what to keep and what to get rid of, and how to organize them. At that point, most people say, "I should hire you to do that for my stuff." But, see, archivists are trying to preserve historically significant records for as long as possible. What is historically significant/ Well that all depends on context and my job is really a little more complicated than just sorting papers. Go to an archive and use a collection, and then we'll talk. But, this doesn't explain why my work is cool. So, let me tell you why:

1. I get to learn a little bit about everything. I have learned about transplant surgery (more the history, less the technical details, but I can tell you they really struggled with rejection and you have to stay on meds til you die for that. Also, in the days following 9/11, they couldn't fly organs around), bugs (lepidoptera--fun to say, and the scientific family name for butterflies and moths. Bees? They can be oligotropes or polytropes. And some of them are social parasites. Ants? Sometimes they are slave-masters. Literally), sororities, affirmative action, and a billion other random things. I don't have to know about any one thing (other than being an archivist), but I get to learn about pretty much everything. I get paid to learn!

2. I get to look at really old stuff. Letters from the 1800's, novels about business in America in the 1920's, and a bunch of other stuff. Once I even got to see a document with Henry VIII's seal on it.

3. I can't talk about some of the stuff I know. Seriously. It's like working for the CIA, other than the "I'd have to kill you" part. Which is fine, because really, death is pretty extreme. But, if I told you, I would really run the risk of being fired. (Nothing I have said so far could not be found on your own. It is information that is open to the public, should you be so inclined).

4. In a very real way, I control history. I could get rid of documents, and destroy history, or keep documents and maybe preserve very tedious history. I wield power.

5. I get to play with dollies/handtrucks. You know, that the moving guys use? I get this very weird satisfaction from seeing how far back I have to lean to get the handtruck to tip back. It's a balancing act--my weight against all of those boxes.

6. I get paid to surf the web. Mind you, I'm looking for specific information, and I can't just look anywhere, but you know how the web is. You start out, and it is pretty hard not to get sidetracked. Still, I do try to stay on topic.

7. I get a great workout on the job. Moving 40 lb. boxes around all the time gives you some nice biceps.

8. I just love knowing how to find answers. I'm not always the best at it, but I love the hunt. Hidden in the stacks are untold nuggets of information just waiting to be found. SO COOL!!! We are like superheroes. Nerdy ones, maybe, but lots of people appreciate us.

I know my job in many ways is expendable. I mean, if there was an alien invasion tomorrow, I don't know that anyone would care about the archives (although, in the preview for World War Z, I think, they were taking the really important stuff out of the National Archives--you know, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution). But, you know, once we kicked the aliens out (or, gasp, were enslaved by them), we'd really want that history.

I'm just saying.

Nine letter word for brain teaser

During my last stint living at home, my parents did paper routes and routinely had several extra copies of the newspaper laying around. So, we'd each take a copy and work on the day's crossword puzzle. Mondays and Tuesdays, we could usually do individually, but by Thursday, it definitely became more of a cooperative effort. But it was always fun, and a shared experience that we bonded over. 

So you can imagine that it was a bit nostalgic when I wandered through the break room at work one day to find some staff members working on the day's crossword puzzle. I told my little tale of crossword togetherness, maybe helped with a phrase or two, and went on my way. But my little contributions here and there were enough to get an invite to the club. 

I now have copies of the crosswords on my desk when I arrive, and I know that around 11:00, there will be a crossword puzzle break going on. We brainstorm and swap answers and have that shared moment of crossword culture (it really is a culture. You pick up on trends, and groan at the awful puns in the clues and answers, and protest at bad clues). We each have our area of expertise, and I finally have people who can help me answer all the alcohol questions!* And I've only ever googled a clue once, (for a Friday puzzle) so we are pretty darn smart as a collective. 

I am the young'un of the group, so I'm always pretty pleased when I can hold my own. Not that it is really competitive, but I do like to see that despite my limited experience, I do alright. Mostly, I just enjoy the groupie-ness. It's funny, because we are all fairly different. Different ages, different backgrounds, etc. But there we are: the crossword puzzle crowd. It's the crossword puzzle bond, at it again. 

*I don't drink, so I never know the wine and booze clues. I have to fill them in by getting the other answers.

**Even when I google answers, I never use the cheater websites that say "crossword clue" in them. I always go to the source. So, I don't consider it cheating. I work for my answers. 

The wonders of Iceland

I have decided to become obsessed with Iceland.

I know, I know, most people don't actively choose to become obsessed with things. But better to choose your obsessions and be in control of them than not. Right? (sure, sure).

Anyway, Iceland. I watched this video a while ago, and it starts out with a brief blurb about Iceland. So of course, they are showing footage of Iceland the whole time. And it is GORGEOUS. Seriously, how do people not just flock to Iceland just to stand outside and see how beautiful it is?

I've actually joked about moving to Iceland as my plan B for a while. Originally, my plan B was to be Prime Minister of Italy, because I read somewhere that only a crazy person (I think they actually did use the phrase mentally ill) would want the job. Which, on the bright side meant that 1 in 4 Americans could have been candidates, if the depression statistics are right. (Having dealt with depression, I feel I can say that with impunity). But then Italy found someone to do the job, so I needed a new plan B. I heard that Iceland had a very low crime rate (insanely low) and I've heard that they are all more or less related (albeit distantly) so I figured they could probably use some fresh blood. And that was before I saw how beautiful the place is.

Then I read this book and learned that for the past few years (at least as of 2010), Iceland has been in the top rankings for places to live in terms of peace, safety, and well-being. What is not to love about this place? And, most of them speak English, so I wouldn't even have to worry about communicating. Although, how cool would it be to learn Icelandic? And, I just read somewhere that they don't have mosquitoes. Another site said they don't have a McDonald's. At all. Which is impressive. And kind of awesome. Although apparently they eat fermented shark, so maybe a McDonald's wouldn't be such a bad thing. I don't know. I've never tried any kind of shark, let alone fermented shark.

Mostly, though, how could a bunch of people living on an island of glaciers and volcanoes not be amazing? Statistically, I think it's improbable.*

I'm not saying I'm going to pack my bags and move there, but I have definitely added "Go to Iceland" to my list of things to do in my lifetime. And, if push comes to shove, I think it's a pretty darn awesome Plan B.

*It should be noted here that I never really studied statistics. But, I don't see why I can't make them up like everyone else. Or at least make the field work for me. Isn't that what statistics are for, ha ha?

Hope

The Magic Touch

Tell me you have had this experience (because if you haven't, I may have a problem). You are looking for something, or trying to do something, and you just can't figure it out. So, finally, you go get someone to help you, and they do the EXACT same thing you did, and all of a sudden it works or you find whatever. Problem solved. And you know that you did exactly what they did, but feel kind of silly anyway.

I had an experience just like that yesterday. I woke up and my laptop wouldn't turn on. No lights flashing to signify life, nothing. I remembered that the adapter had come unplugged on the cord, but I had plugged it in, so I didn't double check that, and I remembered seeing that it had been charging when I turned it off, so I didn't think the battery could be low. And I panicked. Buying a new computer is not in the financial cards. Of course, I couldn't get online to check and see if there was anything I could try because my computer wouldn't turn on and, no, I don't have five thousand devices connected to the internet, so I had no way of checking other than going to the library. I couldn't even look up places to call for advice, because we don't have a phone book. And no internet means no googling the yellow pages. (And people think I'm a Luddite for believing in having copies offline. It's just common sense!) Which meant catching a bus. And I needed to do that NOW to have time to get a new computer should it come to that. I considered my options and decided I'd better take care of it ASAP. So, I found a place, (within walking distance of the library, yay!) took it in, and the wonderful repair person said, "Oh, your adapter just wasn't connected all the way." And while I did feel a bit embarrassed, mostly I felt this overwhelming sense of relief. Honestly, I had been so panicked. I could have spent hours trying to figure out that that was the problem, and just for a rational set of eyes and saving myself the stress, it was so worth it to have someone else look at it and tell me I'm an idiot. So much better than hearing someone say, "Your computer is dead. Buy a new one." Give me 'idiot' any day. (More expensive to my pride, easier on my wallet. I'm good with that).

Anyway, it reminds me of the good old days of working for the nametag company. The laser engraver would get misaligned, and I'd do everything I was supposed to, but it wouldn't work. My boss, he'd come over, do exactly the same thing, and ta-da! Worked fine. He had the magic touch. I'd actually go over and say, "I need you to come glare at the engraver and get it working again" because I knew no matter what I did, I'd never get it working again. But, when the scale got off in shipping, I was the one with the magic finger. I would show my co-worker exactly what to do and he would do it, and it wouldn't work. But it always worked for me. The scale just knew not to mess with me. And he was always embarrassed, but I totally understood because of the laser engraver situation. (We should all be worried. Machines that respond to certain people? They are becoming sentient. First step to them taking over the world).

So, to all the people who solve my silly problems and think "You're an idiot!!!", well, you're probably right. But I do have my own brand of intelligent idiocy. And if you ever need a second pair of eyes to help you feel like an idiot, feel free to borrow mine. They are very non-judgmental.

What makes me happy

Someone asked me today, "What makes you happy?" And I've kind of been thinking about one thing that makes me happy lately, in part because of my niece.

I have a 6 year old niece who loves to give. At Christmas, she went around the house finding all of these things to wrap and give to her little brother. Just used stuff--a book, a craft from school, that kind of thing, but she was just really into the whole wrapping and giving thing. (The only downside to this was, all the kids had finished unwrapping their gifts except her little brother, who still had a pile because of all of her gifts to him. But it worked out).

She also loves to draw and made three separate birthday cards for her little brother on his recent birthday. She frequently makes me gifts of her artwork, as well. Sometimes I think it is so she doesn't have to find a home for it, but most of the time (9 out of 10 times) it is because she really wants me to have it. (At a recent concert that I semi-attended with them, she left me several pages of artwork in my notebook, unbeknownst to me. When I discovered it, it made my day, and I had to show it off to everyone around. I actually took it to church just to share my treasure).

My point is, she really likes to share her talents and give to others. And I love that, because I like doing that too. It makes me happy. I love to think of the look on someone's face when I give them something, especially something that is just right for them. Gift shopping is a big thing for me, because I want more than anything for the recipient to know that I care about them. And I love to stumble across things, know that someone would enjoy it, and just give it to them for no reason. (Don't get me wrong. I also love to receive gifts, and am known to gift things to myself. Just want to get that out there).

I remember as a child, doing a Home Evening activity where we were writing nice things about family members. And I spent so much time, trying to think of just the right thing to say to my dad, to let him know I really thought about it. I wanted him to know he was special and that I noticed. I was probably 10 years old, and I remember how much I wanted him to feel loved.

I had a grandpa who would buy every music book on the shelf at the thrift store and bring it to our house. He found out my sister wanted to learn to play the violin, and bought one. He gave it to her in exchange for a song on the piano. My grandpa was a gruff fellow, or that's how he always seemed to me. I had a teacher that knew him, who had a very different perspective, but as a shy kid that was one of dozens of grandkids, he seemed gruff. But I must have known he wasn't gruff on the inside. Maybe it was the way he always had candy for us, or would get surgeons gloves for us to use as balloons. I don't know. But somehow, I got it in my head that he loved to hear his grandkids playing music. And I would time it so that when he came over, I'd be playing the piano. Or I'd try to sit down and tinker, ever so casually and definitely not planned, of course, on the piano at his house. And I would do it because I wanted to give him that gift. I don't even know if he did like that, and my piano playing wasn't the best. I have no idea if he ever even noticed. I just remember that I wanted to do something for him that he would like. And I was happy whenever I did it.

I think the reason giving makes me so happy is because I love people. I AM shy and introverted, but that doesn't mean I don't like or care about people. I do. And I love to be able to bring a bit of happiness to them. It makes me feel like a contributor to the world. It makes me feel like I can make a difference in some way.

It just makes me happy.

How to host a birthday party for a 4 year old

1. Have cake.
2. Have ice cream.
3. Have jello.
4. Have jelly beans. On the cake. Don't expect there to be jelly beans left when done. Do expect there to be cake.
5. Have Cheetos.
6. Have orange soda.
7. Let the birthday boy (or girl) decorate the cake.
8. Let the artistic sibling help with the cake decorations. They will be awesome.
9. Let him help make the frosting.
10. Throw the rules out the window. It's a birthday.
11. Picnic outside. Saves having to vacuum.
12. Have the party at the Aunt's house.
13. Just have fun.

Side note: If  you are a single person and want to meet your neighbors, adopt a family and host their child's birthday party. Nothing attracts attention like little kids, and they are great topics for casual conversation. Definitely a good approach.

Odds and Ends

For some reason, iTunes randomly decided to delete the bulk of my music from my computer. And, silly me, instead of telling my ipod to restore it all (because why would I do that? The music wasn't deleted by me, so I wouldn't know it needed restored), I said no and now have to manually input it all. Sometimes, I curse Apple (because if I curse my computer, I run the fearful chance that my computer has issues I can't afford to fix. Whereas, cursing Apple means it's their fault, not mine, and I don't have to worry about it). I guess at least it kindly left all of my playlists intact.

I am ridiculously addicted to the library's 'treasure hunts' for the summer reading program. You basically go in, find clues in the catalog, and it's this nice little game. And I feel that at least I can pretend to be enhancing my library skills.

Which reminds me of the fun I've had at work doing mini-research projects. It may be totally nerdy, but I LOVE it when I stumble across the piece of information I'm looking for. And believe me, finding things in an archive is a different ballgame from Google. But ever so satisfying.

I went to a concert this week with my sister's family. In case you are wondering, 4-year olds don't dig Hadyn's Creation. But they do dig cool fountains, elevators, stairs, statues, and sticks. And bell buildings. And sometimes, the same is true for not-four-year-olds. Someone definitely needs to study the process of energy transfer between adult and child, because I swear, kids are sapping my energy. How else could one 4 year old (in truth, he's still 3, but one week and all of the maturity of a 4-year old, I say we round up) have SO MUCH ENERGY?!?!?! I envied him. Although, I was pretty amazed I was able to keep up, seeing as I have been bone-tired for a week and a half. Perhaps they give back a little of their absorbed energy...

In high school, it was ingrained in me that you always have an introduction and a conclusion. And I find it is still a huge challenge not to end with a satisfactory conclusion, which is unfortunate, because today I just don't have one. Other than, that's pretty much all I've got.

Here this post ends.

Do you manage a large mammal population?

Today at work I was doing some research on an organization and came across this little gem:

 (and I quote) "The ESGR deer herd has been the focus of many studies, including Dale McCullough's landmark book "The George Reserve deer herd: population ecology of a k-selected species."  This text continues to be a must-read for managers of large mammal populations."

Which is funny in and of itself, because it isn't exactly what I think of when I'm thinking gripping reading or bestseller. But then my co-worker said, "Do groups of people count as large mammal populations?" And, well, technically, yes they do. And that lends itself to a whole new audience for said book, including:

Teachers
University presidents
Athletic managers
Hospital managers
Traffic cops
CEOs 
Band/Orchestra/Choir directors
the Military
Whoever manages Congress (ha ha)
Dictators
perhaps the aliens controlling us?

Anyway, if you or someone you know manage a large mammal population, make sure to pick up this must-read text. I'm sure it will be a very valuable tool. 

Fire something

I know I should be oohing and aahing over the fireworks and there are some that I can actually see from the balcony of my apartment (not many but some). But really, I am just excited because there are fireflies. I haven't seen any this year and I was afraid I'd missed them and so I am really really excited to be seeing them.

Another Round of the Ordinaries

To the guy sitting on Liberty holding up a sign saying "Smile--It isn't raining!" I don't know if he had a home to go to, but he certainly wasn't wearing any power suits, for what that's worth. (Not much). That particular street tends to have a lot of people who are struggling to make ends meet, though, so he could be in that category or not. Either way, it's pretty awesome that he was going out of his way to cheer up the world. One person at a time (the most effective way).

To the bus driver on Monday. I got on the bus, and he was taking a small break (come on, can you imagine driving around town all day long without a break?), but usually on the bus, I close my eyes like I'm sleeping (usually I'm trying to). He noticed and asked if I was okay, and I just said I was tired. He asked what my stop was, so that I could sleep and he could make sure I didn't miss it. And he went out of his way for other people too. He was my Monday hero.

To the lady in the K-Mart parking lot today, who saw me and saw that I was looking down, and said, "It can't be that bad!" Which made me smile, and then she asked if I was okay. I'd never seen her before in my life, but she showed such compassion. And, because of that, I smiled at everyone I passed on my way home. That is changing the world.

To all the people I work with. Seriously, I have always been fortunate to work with good people, but usually there is someone that I have a hard time with. But these people--really, they are some of the best and most supportive people I have had the pleasure to work with. There isn't one of them that I don't like. And they have a knack for encouraging me in just the way I need to be encouraged at just the right moment. Telling me to trust the master plan when I'm doubting there is one, or supporting me when I make decisions that may not be logical but are right. They take a chance on me and teach me new things, and trust me with important things. And they really care about me. And I appreciate that.

So there are the ordinaries for the day. Now, go out and do something ordinary!

Sight Seeing

Last night, there was a really awesome storm. Thunder. Lightning. More thunder. More lightning. Oh, and rain. And it was around 11:30, and I should have been going to bed, but where's the fun in that? So of course I stayed up watching. And attempting to take pictures of the cool lightning. The only problem with this is 1) it was cloudy, which makes it tricky to really see the lightning, unless it's a really good flash, 2) (oh, wait, I said one problem, right? Sorry about that). My camera isn't really designed for flash photography. Yes, you can groan at that one, but it really is the best way to describe it. My camera just takes a while to actually snap the picture. Which really makes me want to invest in a different camera, to have all my bases covered. And 3) I don't have professional photographer skills.

Today also offered some interesting sights. Along with a lot of pictures of Gerald R. Ford (man, I love working in an archive!!! I wonder if he ever got tired of that picture of him as center for UM being flashed everywhere...), on my way out of work, I saw a very interesting caterpillar on the doors. This is NOT the actual caterpillar, but it is the kind of caterpillar, so you can also see how interesting it was:

"Orgyia Leucostigma caterpillar Michigan" by Thaddeus - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Now envision it on a glass door and you'll have the right angle and all that. And hopefully see why it was a weird site. (By the way, I stole this picture from wikipedia). What a weird caterpillar.

My last bizarre sights for the day was the Nutmobile. I honestly had never heard of this before. And I saw it and had no clue what it was called, but instantly named it in my head the "Planter's Peanut-mobile." I don't know that I was really that shocked to find out that it's official name is, in fact, the Nutmobile. No, the real mystery here was what on earth was the Nutmobile doing in my town, and particularly across the street from where I work? 

So, those are the sights I saw today. A little hairy, and a little bizarre. And definitely out of the ordinary. Not bad for a day's work.

Life happens

So, for a while my 'life' scriptwriter and I have had some disagreement about how exactly the plot should go. If I were smart, I would be better at remembering that the Scriptwriter knows what he's doing, whereas I can barely manage to do my job credibly half the time. So, definitely don't think I'm planning on firing him anytime soon. He miraculously manages to write me out of the jams I seem to constantly land myself in, and does it quite nicely, so I've made a lifelong and then some contract with him.

Anyway, this was not my point. I was actually chatting with a friend and pondering why life has been so rough lately (lately being a relative term meaning "what seems like ages and eons and really, I think we've had enough, let's try something new") and the honest truth is, it's life. Rough things happen. But, there is a silver lining to this gloomy cloud, which I will now impart, because I'm oh-so-wise-and-snarky: at least if life is happening, you know you're alive.

Thank you.

Credits:
pulses everywhere
clouds, without which there would be no silver linings?
the internet, which prevents people from pelting me with actual tomatoes
analogese
persimmon, for no other reason than it's kind of fun to say

Watching the Wildlife

The other day, I was walking to the bus stop and I took a different route. I figured, why stand around waiting  on a bench outside the hospital when I could be walking and enjoying the nice weather. I'm walking along, and I stopped to double check the bus schedule. Stood up and lo and behold, a deer, just hanging out in the greenery (foliage? bushes? Trees? Foliage.)

That night, I was in the gym, and watching out the window, checking out the wildlife. Which, maybe isn't that wild. I mean, we're talking ducks, geese, squirrels, and robins. The geese are strutting around with their offspring, who are in the awkward adolescent stage of life. There was a bit of a gang war going on, with one of the kiddos crossing into someone else's turf. The next thing you know, the poor guy was getting hissed at by the jefe goose, and then his pop started hissing back. Fortunately no feathers flew, but it did make me wonder how they've gone so long without any casualties, considering the insane numbers of geese sharing the pond front property around here.

It was pretty hilarious to watch the poor awkward geese running after their parents. They had this funny gait when they ran. They are shifting balance from one leg to another, and it creates this goofy toddling run. They would mosey along, look up, and see that there parents were getting too far ahead and start their goofy run. On the bright side, the adolescent stage for a goose can't last too long. And, since they will grow up to be mean hissing geese, I don't feel too bad for them.  

The turf wars didn't end with the geese, though. Apparently some squirrels were loitering in a robin's yard, because all of a sudden, there are two squirrels being chased by a bird. One went up a tree, where it watched apprehensively as it's friend fled the scene, tailed by the robin the whole way. And I couldn't help but imagine the robin hollering, "Get off of my lawn!" 

So, what have we learned? Well, life ain't bliss in the animal kingdom, either. I guess it's hard times for everyone. Every critter. Yeah. All of us. 

Theoretically speaking...

I was having a discussion about politics and government with someone this morning and I have come to several conclusions. 1) I have become quite cantankerous on the subject somehow. I don't know how long I've been cantankerous about the subject, and it probably has more to do with my frustration with life in general than it does with the actual government (politics, well, who does like politics, besides politicians?). 2) I much prefer being the mediating influence in conversations. And I don't like debates. At least, not when I'm sparring with one other person. (I love being a 3rd party observer who can mock the debaters and argue unreservedly with both sides). I find that, whether I really feel strongly about my position or not (and generally, I don't), having someone 'argue' for the other side makes me feel contrary, and then I get annoyingly stubborn, and it is ridiculous. I hate having my contrariness stirred up. I generally try not to be a contrary person.

And, 3) (and the real purpose of this post), I am really a hands-on, practical person. I can point out all the problems and how theoretically it needs to change, but what really frustrates me is there really is nothing that can be done about it. I mean, there is theory, and then there is reality, and I am much more concerned with what really, really matters. And not just with politics. In my graduate program, there was this one lecture where they were arguing about whether an antelope is information. And my first reaction is, "What does it matter if an antelope is information or not? There's still some wild animal trying to eat it and being able to claim 'information status' isn't going to stop that." There was also an article about whether a Mardi Gras celebration on some Caribbean island is a record. Which is great and an interesting topic of discussion, but I can't put the parade performers in an archive, so what does it matter if it is a record or not?

I don't often think of myself as an action person, but I am discovering that I get fed up with talking about stuff. If there is a problem, I want to do something about it. Maybe it won't fix the problem, but I want to be at least doing something. But I also want to do something that will make a difference. Not necessarily on a global scale or anything huge, but at least a difference for me and maybe the people around me. So, government isn't perfect and has it's problems and people still need help. Well, I can't make government start taking care of my problems or my neighbors problems, but I can try to help my neighbor. What does it matter what should or shouldn't be happening? If it isn't, I can waste a lot of time trying to make other people fix the problem, or I can do what I can in my sphere of influence and stop worrying about right and fair and all that hooplah.

I am definitely not a theoretical person. At least not in that sense. I am really just interested in living my life and doing the best I can to make things better for the people around me. I really don't care about making a big impact on the world--it seems like a huge headache and an impossible task, so I'll pass. I don't know what that says about me as a person, but that's the way it is.

A bunch of patikiwaka

I just feel the need to write something, although I have nothing in particular to say. So, no theme here, just randomness. Which is pretty darn much what life is like.

I fed some geese (and ducks) today. The baby geese that were pretty cute a few weeks ago are in the awkward teenager stage of gooseness, and, yeah, they are just kind of awkward. Traces of baby cuteness and hints of adultness, but not really one or the other and an awkward mix in the meantime.

I have discovered why peer pressure is so terrible, and while it will sound ridiculously 'duh', bear with me. It's because it's your peers pressuring you. Duh, I know, but in high school, 'peers' were everyone in your grade. And quite frankly, a lot of them were in no position to pressure me. I didn't care about their opinion a whole lot. But real peers are people that you do care about your opinion. They are the people that have common interests and common beliefs. People you relate to. And that is why peer pressure is so potent. Because if those people who are like you (not just the same age, which is hardly sufficient similarness to make one a peer) are doing something, then there must be something wrong with  you if you aren't. 

Comic Sans should not be used on reports from executive level administration. I'm just saying. It's really hard to take an executive officer seriously when it looks like their six-year old wrote the cover page. 

I miss my stuff. I know it's just stuff, but I miss it. I miss having my books on my shelves. I miss using my own cooking stuff. I miss having more than one rubber scraper in the kitchen. I miss having a desk chair, even if it was a swivel chair with wheels that was stuck on carpet, which what is the point of wheels on a chair if it is on carpet, I ask you, but it wasn't my fault that that was the setup and I miss having a desk chair all the same. I miss having a place of my own. 

I have recently developed an aversion to breakfast, which is a travesty. I am a huge believer in breakfast and generally eat it at least 10 times a week. (After all, it is the most important meal of the day, and so why not eat it often?). But suddenly, nothing sounds good in the morning. The thought of pancakes makes me queasy. Muffins? Nope. Eggs? Blah. (Maybe eggs with bacon. And a biscuit. That sounds good. Unfortunately, by the time I can purchase all of that, it won't). Cereal? No thanks. Not even chocolate pudding sounds good. And summer hasn't even arrived, with it's nauseating heat. I think I might be in trouble...

Monday doth approach, but hey--at least science has proven that it's not worse than any other day of the week! Bet that changes your day! But, I for one am decently excited about Monday, because there are treasures buried for me in the archive. It's going to be awesome. 

And that is all.

One of those moments

I just had what I call a Harry Potter moment. I call them that because when watching the movies, I so often find that they never do the logical thing. For example, instead of telling a teacher that something terrible has happened or might happen or what have you, like a rational person would do, they decide to solve the problem themselves. (The movies somehow make this irrational behavior more apparent).

Now, I get that this is a plot device, and no one would want to read a book about a kid who just made sure that adults had all the information. Boring. But that's not my point.

My point is, I find that I do the same thing all the time! Okay, maybe not ALL the time, but way more often than I want to. Today's example: I was expecting a phone call. The phone call never came. After waiting half an hour, I finally gave up and went home. It was just before I got on the bus that my phone gave me the alarm indicating I had a voicemail message. Meaning, I'd missed the call. Correction: meaning my phone failed to work the way it is supposed to, namely, by ringing when a call comes in. (Honestly. I aspire to have a landline someday). And just now, literally 5 minutes ago, I thought, "Why didn't I call them?" That thought didn't even cross my mind at the time. Never even presented itself in the tiniest form. It took 5 hours for me to have that embarrassingly simple and highly rational thought.

Harry Potter moment. And while part of me feels stupid and frustrated with myself, another part (possibly a bigger part) can see exactly why it never occurred to me to call, and can't get up the energy to be too critical.  And, on the bright side, the future of the wizarding world doesn't depend on my rational or irrational behavior, so I think today I'm just going to cut myself some slack.

I think, therefore I am...Now if the sink would believe it

If any of you have ever been looking for a job, carless and therefore reliant on others to get around (or you become one of the nameless bus people), lived in a town an hour from where you work, and just generally been stuck in nowhere and headed nowhere fast (or at least felt like it), then you know what it means to be in limbo. And you start to question your own existence.

In that situation, it is not very helpful to have your existence questioned by a sink. Yes, a sink. I admit, I think the motion-sensor sinks are fantastic, but lately, they haven't really been acknowledging my existence. Somehow, I just have a hard time registering with them. And, when a sink doesn't recognize you, it really doesn't build your self-esteem.

So, I just want to affirm here and now, that I DO in fact exist. Don't trust the sinks. They don't know what they are doing.

Home Sweet Home

This weekend, I flew home for my brother's wedding. It's the first time in 2 1/2 years that I've been home. (I've been close to home a few times, and I've seen family. And talked to them. But I haven't actually been home). I am proud to say, the dog remembered me, and still loves me. And I wish more than ever that I could bring her home with me, but it isn't an option. Sadly. Anyway, she was very excited, and we got to do all the old fun things together, and it was still the same old fun, which was nice.

I also got to meet a nephew for the first time (he's adorable) and re-meet some nieces and nephews that I haven't seen live for the said 2 1/2 years, as well as endear myself to a nephew that I saw a year and a half ago (give or take), who didn't appreciate me quite so much at the time. Although he really liked the Hippo song and watching Phineas and Ferb. It was just me he wasn't entirely sure of. But, I think we overcame any obstacles. And I had a lot of fun with him. All of the mentioned children are darling. Seriously adorable.

And I learned to play a new game, which is unsurprising because my game brother was there. The game basically consists of 10 minutes of absolute chaos, but it was fun. And I liked the house rules, invented by the 4-year old and involving teleportation.

It was also the first time in five years that all of my siblings have been in the same place at the same time. There are 8 of us, so that makes it trickier, but we were all there. And I was so proud to be part of that family! It was amazing to be there with them.

The only weird thing about it was that feeling of being out of context. Or, more precisely, re-contexted. It is still sometimes mind-boggling to me that I sit on a plane for 4 hours, and am in a completely different place, miles and miles and MILES from where I was that morning. Surrounded by different people, who have no idea what my normal residence looks like. And I can drop into that new context and be right at home there, but somehow, not completely me. It is weird, and I guess you'd probably have to have felt that to really get it, because it's a sense, more than something to be verbalized. I don't know if it's bad, it's just ... interesting.

Anyway, I'm back now, and missing the kids and the dog and the family. I've never really wanted to move back home, and I don't think that has changed. But I sure do wish that I was closer to more of my family. Because they are good people.

All the reasons adulthood is overrated

1. There is no allowance. Sure, you get a paycheck (hopefully!), but it's not the same as an allowance. Although, I never had an allowance as a kid, so I can't say for sure.

2. All the decisions you make are higher stakes. It's not that kids don't have decisions, but there aren't as many life-altering decisions when you are ten. And, there is generally someone to steer you right if you make the wrong one. 

3. All the games from childhood are now real. And somehow, not play. I love to make messes in the kitchen, but there's a certain element of imagination that is gone from it these days. Plus, the dishes have to be washed for real. Although, driving a real car is way better than pretending.

4. People don't think you are as inherently funny and adorable as an adult. 

5. There's no one to cuddle you when you are sad, no lap to sit on so you can just be held as an adult. "Let me kiss it better" isn't an option anymore. 

6. Meetings. I'm just saying. 

7. There is no summer vacation. Welcome to the real world, where life keeps going for all twelve months of the year. 

8. You are supposed to know the answers, but you still haven't gotten the handbook. And, yeah, don't forget number 2, higher stakes. Good times. (Honestly, adults are just winging it. Don't be fooled). 

And now, for the honest truth. Even though adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be, I wouldn't go back. To be happy as a child, I'd have to give up everything I know and have learned and become, and I think the price is more than I want to pay. But I wouldn't say no to a handbook. Or summer vacation. Or something.

The Ordinaries #2

Well, Time magazine released their 100 Most Influential People. I usually look at those lists, and I always wonder what their definition of 'influential' is. Anyway, I figured with the 100 most influential people, it would be a great time do award some more Ordinaries. So, here goes:

1) The bus driver, who recognizes me and a lot of other frequent riders and says hello and will keep an eye out for the riders he recognizes.

2) There was the guy in the post office, who was the only one working at the counter, because it was close to pick up and ship out. And he saw the really long line, and he tried really hard to make sure that he gave everyone good service, but you could tell he was also trying to hurry, so that he wasn't keeping people waiting.

3) My friends M. C. and M. R. I look forward to seeing them on Sundays.

4) A. M. and J. K., some more of my friends. They are just trying to live and work and be happy. They are really good at giving moral support, because they can relate to the average Joe. Or Josefina as the case may be.

5) The people I work with. It's so encouraging to see so many good, nice people doing what they can to live a good life and make their corner of the world a better place.

I know there are some mass awards there, but that's the thing about ordinary people. There are a lot of us :) And, so to all the ordinaries out there, keep up the good work.

So close, and yet so far away

Last weekend, it looked like spring had really and truly finally arrived. And then it started to rain. And it rained and rained and was cold and windy. And today, there were even traces of snow. I don't mind the rain. In fact, I'm a fan of rain. I love walking in rain. I spent a semester in the Dominican Republic, and I would walk in the rain there, and it was like heaven, because the rain was warm--not hot, but just the right kind of warm. And the family that I stayed with would freak out when I got home all wet. They swore that I would get sick and die from walking in the rain! Then I had to find reasons to walk out without an umbrella so I'd have an excuse, but it was worth it. Anyway, I digress. It's not that I mind the rain. It's just the cold I'm opposed to. I'm ready for sunshine, or at least temperatures in the high 40's and 50's.

I don't really mind too much, I suppose. It just seems so much like my life. So close, so close to having things settle down. And yet so far away. Ah well. At least it's close. And there is still the hope of spring to enjoy.

On Faith

As a general rule, I try to write posts that anyone can enjoy, and about life in general. As a result, I haven't ever written much about religion. But today being Easter Sunday, I am going to break that trend. And, to give some context, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You might have heard of us--we are sometimes called Mormons.

This past year has been what could very well be the worst year of my life to date. It is hard to say, really, because it has been awful in different ways than other hard times, so it's the whole apples and oranges thing. But also, trying to figure out is a quick way to have a pity party, and I just don't have the energy for that. Suffice to say, it has been hard. And, while I wish I could say the worst is over and it shows signs of improving, it doesn't. It's been hard, and it is going to be hard for the foreseeable future. 

(Which is really gloomy and doomy. I hope that I have managed to convey some joy in the past year, because there have been moments of joy, reminders to hang on. There have been blessings and a lot of the little day-to-day things are pretty good.)

Anyway, when life is hard, I want to have someone to turn to. And more and more, I have come to appreciate the Savior. I have friends and family who love me, and who try their best to help, but more and more I find that I just can't explain to them all the things that trouble me. Words fail. And, because we are only human, I find that they are so often trying to comfort and counsel me from their viewpoint. It is what we as people do. We aren't omniscient, and we do the best we can, but so often it falls short. 

But what I have come to know is that there is one Person who will never fail to understand every detail of what I am going through. More and more, I am coming to realize that the Savior knows my burdens not because He had a similar experience, but because He had my experience. He carried the weight of it. He knows why I have shed every tear that I have shed. He knows the weight and strength and depth of every fear, every heartache, every desire. He knows every inch of what I am going through. I don't have to find the right words to explain because He knows. And as I have come to know that, I have started to rely on Him and trust Him more and more. He is the best friend I have, and I want with all my heart to be counted by Him as a friend. I think I fail at that more often than not, but I would do anything to be His friend. 

One last thing. It doesn't really tie in with the rest, but I want to share it anyway. Christ knows everything I am going through because of the Atonement. I don't know that I have the greatest understanding of the Atonement, but I know that often when we speak of it, we connect it with pain and suffering on the part of the Savior. And we often think of the suffering the Savior went through for us, all the pain that He experienced on our behalf. And we know He did it because He loves us. There is one scripture in all the scripture which I hold dear that I love more than any other, and I love it because to me, it testifies of the Savior's love more than anything else:

"10 ¶Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.

11 He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities." -Isaiah 53:10-11

We so often think of the Atonement in terms of what it means for us and to us. I love these verses because they show me how the Savior feels about the Atonement. When I come to Him seeking His help, His forgiveness, and His grace, He looks on the suffering in Gethsemane and on the cross and is satisfied. Because saving me was worth it. And when I read this, I remember how much He loves me, and I want to make his suffering worth it. I want to be as righteous as I can be. 

I know the Savior loves us. He loves me, and more than anything else, I want to be counted as His friend. I want Him to look at me, to see the travail of His soul for me, and be satisfied. I love the Savior, and I am so humbly grateful for all that He did and all that He is, and one day, I hope to be able to tell Him so in person. 

March Madness

Well, so far, March has been cold and bitter and insanely freezing. Finally, the last couple of days, it seems that spring has arrived. It was actually 48 degrees today!

And, with the coming of pleasant weather, the world seems to be reacting. Around lunchtime today, my co-worker mentioned that my old college building (and by old, I don't mean old. The building is approaching it's 3rd birthday, and I was only there a year ago. By old, I mean, I used to go there) had flooded. Apparently, a pipe broke in one of the residences, and the building got to replicate a waterfall, inside and out.

Well, half an hour later, there was a sudden downpour right there in the office! They'd been doing some maintenance on the machines at work (machines at an archive, you ask? HVAC, my friends. A critical component of every archive. Ideally). They'd drained the pans on one of the machines (I cannot explain any better than this, not having seen it and having no idea what it really means), letting loose 100 gallons of water, down into a drain that is not equipped to handle 100 gallons of water. Just like they did 2 years ago, the story goes.

The good news is, I got home and no floods. But I did spend some time reminiscing on the good old days in The Puddle. It seems like a lifetime ago, and I would sure love to be able to say that my biggest problem in life was a flooded apartment and a paper to write.

So, years from now, when my biggest problem is a flooded apartment and a paper to write, remind me to be grateful.

The "Ordinaries"

Awards for Ordinary People making the world better by doing Ordinary Things

This week, there are a couple of Ordinaries to give:

1) To the guys at Enterprise, who dealt with a crowded lobby at 5:40 on a Friday afternoon calmly and efficiently, like ordinary people would do. It's not that they did anything exceptional--no juggling, no offers of discounts or anything. They just took it all in a stride, and did what billions of people do every day. They dealt with the situation and didn't think about it until it was over.

and

2) To the HR lady who contacted me to let me know that they'd filled the position. I hadn't noticed a deadline, and I don't even know if there was one, but a few days after I sent in my info, she contacted me -  apologizing for the delay! - to let me know they had filled the position, but inviting me to keep watching. This is a pretty ordinary thing. But you'd be amazed at how often people don't have the courtesy to let you know tiny bits of information like that. And, know what? I actually would apply there again, if I saw a position open up. Because an ordinary person did an ordinary thing.

and

3) the lady at church that I don't even know if I really know her name (I know her, I just don't know if I've ever actually been introduced and heard her name), who asked how things were going and commiserated. Who didn't tell me all the things I should do or tell me how fortunate I am. Who just said, "Yeah, it really stinks. But, it's going to work out somehow." Yes, yes it is. Thank you.

Ordinary things, ordinary people, making the world better.

This is for the birds

I was walking along today, heading from Point A to Point B, and I passed a winter-barren bush with about 30-40 birds in it. They'd been flying from bush to bush and tree to tree as I neared, as birds do, and had progressed to this particular bush. As I got closer, sure enough they all took off in all directions for the next safe place. All except for one bird, which just hopped a little deeper into the bush. And as I observed this, I thought to myself, "I bet there is some kind of life lesson in that, some charming moral or analogy or something. But heck if I know what it is."

And that's my story.

Fortress of Records

I just got a new collection at work and it has lots and lots of boxes of records in it. So, I've been trying to work on the different pieces of it, and I ended up building a fortress of boxes. I'm just kind of walled in. It's a cubicle of boxes. 

That sounds pretty dull, but it's actually not bad. My desk is out in the open, and sometimes it's like a fishbowl. So having a fortress is a nice change in a way. Not that I'm recommending building a fortress of boxes at work, but it does have a certain imaginative appeal, yeah? Especially if you could decorate your fortress and take some Nerf dart blasters...

Okay, I admit, that wouldn't be very productive, and my job is generally interesting enough that I don't need extra entertainment. I went on a treasure hunt at work today. (It's not all fortress building). And I do that most days. So I really can't complain. 

Still, you could get a really great game of tag going in the stacks...just sayin'.

Upgrades

Well, it's almost here--the long awaited release of Elise 3.3! I know, I know, you can hardly contain yourself for all the excitement. And I know it has been kept under wraps, so there is an aura of mystery, which has probably got all your hopes up, so I hope you are not disappointed by the reality.

I'm sad to say that I think this year's release is going to bring about some complaints. Some of the hardware is a bit out of date and a little creaky. The software is hit and miss too. The memory is a bit slow, and things in general are running a touch slower than in last year's release. But, there are some new programs that we've developed since last year, and this year's release will still offer hours of good entertainment and fun.

What this year's release lacks in newness, it might just make up for in experience, which in this line, counts for something. So, get ready to celebrate the release next week with a bit of cake and ice cream!

Snow and socks

Two nights ago, there was a fantastic snowstorm that really made a mess of things. It wasn't all bad. I waited for the bus in it, and there were huge huge 'flakes' blowing around in the air and it was very picturesque, watching snow fluff swirl to the ground. The bus ride home took a while, but it would have taken a while driving, too, so I guess I can't really complain. (Well, I can. But why bother?) 

Anyway, the next morning, I headed out to catch the bus for work, and got to enjoy the end result. It was a very WET snow, and therefore very heavy, and there were a few fallen tree branches. It was also very wet and for some odd reason, everyone decided that clearing the walks was a silly idea. As I was walking towards the bus stop, I saw the bus drive right on down the road. Hurrah. 

The good news was that I had time to walk to the stop where I meet my connecting bus. The bad news was that--oh yeah, remember those uncleared walks? I got to traipse through all that snow. Or walk in the road, which seemed a less intelligent course of action. 

So I traipsed. And tried to keep my feet dry. Until I realized it wasn't going to happen. And then I just embraced the walk. Well, embraced. I don't know. I mean it was as much of an embrace as can be given to snow and wet feet. But I have learned that there comes a point when you just have to stop worrying about things like wet feet (or babies getting food on your shirt, or noise, or whatever), because some things are inevitable and worrying about them is just a waste of time. 

Well, no surprise, my feet were soaked when I got to work. I got some paper towels and tried to squeeze off the excess water in my socks, and I stuffed paper towels in my shoes. And spent the rest of the day running around in my socks. At work. Yes indeed. And I felt just a little bit wild and rebellious. 

Truthfully? I kind of enjoyed it. Here's to snow and socks. 

Resumés

I have been looking for a job, which means writing a resumé and lots of cover letters, and all the things you do when applying for jobs. Which means I've given a lot of thought to my professional accomplishments, because I'm trying to highlight them and show that I do have them (which can be tricky when you are looking for your first post-graduate job, if you know what I mean).

Looking for a job gives you a lot of time to think (and honestly, sometimes that's all there is for you to do. Job searching involves a lot of waiting). It is very easy to feel like you aren't really doing much in life when you don't have a job. But I have had many moments--many, many moments--over the last few months to realize that there is a different kind of resumé in life, and one that matters more than what I've achieved professionally.

When I think of the most important things I have done in my life, the things that mean the most, and have the most impact, and do the most to make the world better than it was, none of them are anything to do with archiving papers, or getting an order out on time, or stocking the shelves, or even helping a student understand what a word means. The most important things I have done in my life are things that would never go on a resumé for a job, or even be asked about in an interview. But they matter so much more.

They are things like taking a walk with my nephew, and playing with him, and teaching him things. Because all of that, hopefully, sends him the message that he is loved, that he is valued, and that he has worth. It is baking a cake for a friend who is feeling down, and just needs to know that she's not alone. It is laughing with my nieces at the ridiculous things that stars wear on the red carpet, or reading stories to my other niece, or telling my nephew what a great kid he is. The most important things I have done in my life have been telling people I know there is a God, and that He loves us, and in loving them myself.

I feel really good when I complete a project at work, because I know I've worked hard and done good work. And it feels good to finish things. And it is satisfying and rewarding, and it has value for me as a person. But the experiences that matter the most, that are critical, the accomplishments that I know really count, are the ones that I have by interacting with and loving and helping people. I sometimes feel like I shouldn't be spending time playing with my nephew, I should be working on job applications and finding new leads. But when I take the time for people, I am always blessed to KNOW that that was the choice that mattered most on my life resumé. It is those decisions that bring me the most joy, and those are the things that will be on my application to heaven, if you will.

I may never be rich. I will probably never be a famous anything (which is okay. I hate the limelight). No one is ever going to name me to the Archivist Hall of Fame. I hope to publish some of the stories I've written, but I doubt I will ever be famous for them. I'm no Tolkien or Rowling or Dickens. And I don't really want to be. But I do hope that I do some good for someone once in a while, and make the world a little better for having been here.

Cosmic Math

I always liked math in school, at least until my first college math course, which was Calculus 2. Calculus 2 was all about theory, "let's prove the formulas that we use", and series and sequences and beyond me. I like the kind of math that says, "Here's the problem, here's the formula, the rules you have to apply, now, get an answer." Plug in the numbers, step a, step b, step c. That's my kind of math.

Cosmic math is much more like Calculus 2--theoretical, no rules, nothing reliable. Cosmic math doesn't follow a pattern. In cosmic math, 2+2 can equal 45. Which is just one of the reasons why life is what it is.
I think Cosmic always works out perfectly in the end, but it's hard to say, because it can be hard to follow how it all works out, so I can't necessarily say cause and effect. But, I have a lot of faith in cosmic math.

An example of Cosmic math: My car needed a lot of work. It worried me a lot, because I couldn't afford the work, or a new(er) car, or anything. Well, on the way home from an interview, I slid on the road and totaled my car. Which, as horrible as that was, solved the whole, "what to do with my car" problem. And, even better, my car was actually covered for collision, so the insurance settled. So, not only did it solve my dead car problem, but it gave me some funds. Which are also needed, and which can help take care of a new car, if I need them too. So, this terrible terrible thing ended up solving a lot of problems and really being for the best. THAT is cosmic math. Because, no one in their right mind would ever say, "I bet the solution to my problems is to total my car." (No one should EVER say that. Ever).

Now, I am hoping that cosmic math will finally, finally make the agony of the last year result in the most amazing and unforeseen 2+2=45 ever.

Vision check

You know how they say "hindsight is 20/20"? (They being that random and mysterious group of people who get blamed for everything, big and small, real and mythical, because 'they' sounds better than 'it is said' somehow.) Well, I've come to the conclusion that it just isn't true.

My life situation right now gives me ample cause to question my past actions. I rehash things over and over and over, wondering about the decisions that led me to where I am, and most importantly, constantly asking why I didn't know better. Which is really unfair because you don't know what you don't know, and if you don't find out what it is you don't know until after the fact, what are you supposed to do about it? (Try sorting THAT sentence out!) I have learned that so often in life, there are things that you should find out about but that you would never in a million years, ever, think about finding it out until you are in the situation where you are saying, "I should have known that." If that's the attitude we are going to take, then we should all feel like idiots for not knowing how to read Moby Dick when we were five. (I still haven't read Moby Dick, of course, but that is because I am not interested in reading about a mad man trying to get back at a whale. Which is the general plot, to my knowledge. And if I read it and find out I was wrong about the plot, I wouldn't feel stupid. I would just be glad I knew more. See? There's my point.)

Hindsight really isn't objective, either. I think we often feel that with hindsight, we know all the facts. But why do we think that? We don't, really. And what we know may not even be factual. It may just be that instead of seeing things with a rose-colored lens, we are now seeing them through a chartreuse one. That doesn't mean we are seeing them more clearly. Just differently.

I think we also make the mistake of thinking that our choices have set results. We look back and say, "If I'd done B, instead of A, then C wouldn't have happened." Says who? Where is that rule written? Half the time, I'm not even certain of what choice A will lead to, so how can I be sure that B, which also has numerous potential outcomes, would definitely have brought about a different result? And most things in life are so multifaceted that it isn't ever that straightforward, anyway. We'd have to change A-Z before really getting a different result.

Not that hindsight isn't useful. I know of a couple of things off the top of my head where hindsight shows very clearly what I should have done differently. But the funny thing is, those are things where I knew at the time that I should maybe do something more or something different. The hindsight lesson here is that I should have paid attention and listened to my noggin.

So, the point of all this rambling patikiwakaness? Some days, you'll look back and feel like you can see all the things you should have changed. And when you do, do yourself a favor and give yourself the benefit of the doubt. Because, hindsight really isn't 20/20.

We aren't that different

I've had the chance to be around kids a lot lately, and it occurs to me that there really isn't a huge difference between kids and adults once you strip away everything.

For example, kids want to be loved. They cry and they just want someone to care. They want someone to take care of them. They want the things they do to matter, they want people to be excited when they figure out how to do new things. They want to be hugged and held. They want someone to give them attention, someone to play with them, and take time for them. When they are tired, they are cross. When things aren't working out--the tower falls over, or they can't get the puzzle piece in there, or what have you--they get upset. They don't want to wait for a snack or a story.

I find myself feeling the exact same way. I just want to be loved. I want someone to care about me because I'm me. I want to be taken care of. (Not that I don't want to take care of myself. Even kids like to do things on their own. Ever been around a kid who has just learned how to do something? Don't even think you are going to step in and do it. You'll get a very strong "I do it!" and get shoved out of the way). I want people to be excited about my accomplishments. When I'm tired, I feel cranky. When things don't work out, I want to cry and throw a tantrum. And patience is not a virtue I possess.

Of course, as an adult, I've learned not to throw tantrums--at least not in public, and without so much shouting and tears. I can wait, and sometimes I can do so patiently (books are wonderful like that). And I am normally pretty capable of taking care of myself and I feel a certain satisfaction in that. And when things go wrong, I'm better equipped to handle them, which is good, because as an adult, more things can go wrong, and on a more critical level. So, there are definitely some good things about being an adult, and some essential changes from childhood to adulthood.

But sometimes I think the world might be a better place if we remembered that it's okay to feel like a kid. It's okay to want to be held and loved. It's okay to need to be comforted. It's okay to be scared and not have all the answers and not want to be grown up. Because those things don't really change. And sometimes, what I need more than anything, is to be able to be a kid for a minute, and not have to be an adult. Maybe I'm the only 'grown-up' out there who feels that way, in which case, that explains a lot about me. But in my book, being grown-up doesn't mean we don't feel the same things we did when we were kids. We do. And maybe we'd all be a bit better off if we could sit on someone's lap like a kid once in a while.