La vida es lo que usted le hace
Category: Life

To view my blogophilia post, follow the river here.

Week 28 Topic: Life is what you make of it...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): Include a sentence in a foreign language.  - the title is in spanish
(easy, 1 point): Mention one (but only one) of the seven deadly sins.  I mentioned sloth

4:07 AM - 28 Comments - 30 Kudos - Add Comment

I’m going on a wee little trip
Category: Life

Not that it will really make much of a difference in the scheme of my subscriptions to you all, but I am flitting up north for the weekend to visit Adam's 'rents again. I'm never around on weekends anyway right?

Have a wonderful labor day weekend my lovelies! And feel free to stop by talesofanerdygirl any time you like...feel free to click an ad even...

3:57 AM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Nerdy Girl’s an earner
Category: Life

Guess what! My talesofanerdygirl blog has earned a penny! A whole penny! I am a professionally paid blogger now! Ok, so I won't actually get paid until(not unless!) the site earns at least a hundred dollars, but it earned something!

3:33 AM - 16 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment

But, what does it mean?
Category: Blogging

Where two roads meet
and black is black

there you'll find the tin
of a pail

peek inside
but don't look down

it won't be the candy man with his feed
there are no Ws on this tree

Week 26 Topic: Where Two Roads Meet...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): include one 'Oldies but Goodies song'
(easy, 1 point): reference Willy Wonka

3:15 AM - 46 Comments - 46 Kudos - Add Comment

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!
Category: Writing and Poetry

Ok...so I'm not really going to count the ways I love you. I've done it a few times already. You guys know I love you. I'd love you all just a little bit more if you'd go check out my other blog again. I've added a few more since the last time I mentioned it. Do you remember the URL?

No? Well sillikins, it's talesofanerdygirl.blogspot.com.

I know some of you mentioned that you have a hard time remembering to check outside blogs, which I always had a problem with too...but I recently figured out how feedreaders work. Well kinda. See, I have the flock web browser and that whole thing is built right in.

See, when I visit a page that has a feed, or a blog that gets' updated, the little feed symbol on my browser address bar turns bright orange. I click it and a little box opens telling me what the different feeds are that are available(if there is more than one), then I click that and it changes to the feed(or list of blogs and a short bit of the blog) with the newest one on top. From this page I can click "subscribe" to add it to my list. Then, anytime the blog is updated the little feed symbol on the toolbar(not the one on the address bar) turns orange so I'll know to check the blog!

Well, that was way too easy once I figured it out, so now I have all my grammar blogs in there and my pioneer woman blog in there and I don't have to keep clicking and seeing the same old post! Why it's as simple as filling a bunch of water balloons! Totally confusing til you figure it out, then easy as pie. And yes, I know I'm mixing metaphors.


Week 25 Topic: That was way too easy...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): Include a line of poetry from 19th Century poet - My title is from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Number 43
(easy, 1 point): mention water balloons

5:31 AM - 24 Comments - 24 Kudos - Add Comment

My brain is murky
Category: Blogging

If you imagine the entirety of my brain as an ocean, a vast and sometimes stormy ocean, you might be surprised by what lurks within the murky depths below. But, then again, if you've been a reader of mine for long enough, you might already know. Like:  
If the clothes were cleaned
Why is there lint to gather
In the dryer trap  

Don't ask me why that particularly irksome thought came out as a haiku…I mean I was supposed to write a haiku this week…but why one specifically about dryer lint? Why not about something pretty? Or romantic? Like maybe a dinner date in a fancy cafe?  

Spoon fed romantic
Distraction of couplehood
A date gone sour  

Ok…that one didn't come out romantic either. Hm…maybe I'm not supposed to share my haikus. Or maybe I should practice first…I haven't written one since high school.


Week 24 Topic: The Murky Depths Below...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): Include a Haiku
(easy, 1 point): mention dryer lint

3:48 AM - 41 Comments - 44 Kudos - Add Comment

An experiment in branches (fixed the link!)
Category: Blogging

Hey ya'll...I'm thinkin of movin the me style blogs (except maybe updates) over to talesofanerdygirl.blogspot.com

Please check it out if you're interested.

1:03 AM - 11 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Attention Silent Readers
Category: MySpace

I am not one to have hundreds of myspace friends just for the sake of numbers. I like at least a little interaction even if I am terrible at it outside of this blog. At this point I have friends in my friends list that I haven't spoken to in months, if ever(disregarding the initial invite of course). So, I am going to be cleaning out my friends list over the next week or two. If we haven't communicated aside from initial invites and you're not one of my mobster, heroes, rockstar, mafia wars, or pirates members then it would be a good idea to comment here to let me know that you are actually lurking around here still. Otherwise some folks might be headed for the chopping block.

It's all too much for me to keep up with otherwise...

Basically, if I've met you or I subscribe to your blog or you've been a regular commenter at one time or another or any combination thereof, you can consider yourself safe.

3:38 AM - 38 Comments - 24 Kudos - Add Comment

A PG update?!? Are you certain?
Category: Life

Ok...so my blogging has almost entirely fallen off the face of the planet. I went from at least a daily blog(if not more often when working on stories) to about once a week and that only because of the blogophilia entries. In my defense: I've been on summer vacation and therefore on complete brain rest, most of you have gone on blogging hiatus as well, most of my readers have dropped off the planet also.

But, I actually did some stuff lately that I feel like I can actually blog about. Last weekend(not this weekend past, but the one before that) Adam and I went out to the Santa Monica area to help Adam's best friend move into a new apartment. Because Adam is a man he assumed that his friend had already arranged for help with the moving things portion of the adventure and did not offer to help, even though said friend was moving from Northern Cali and couldn't exactly bring his help with him.

Since I am the woman in this relationship, I was smart enough to ask suggestively whether the friend had help down here. Adam realized he hadn't asked and quickly called back and so off we went the next morning. We were tired, sweaty, and sore when we got home that night. But, Adam got to see his best friend for the first time in a couple years and I got to meet him. Nice guy. His girlfriend is pretty cool too.

Then, this past weekend on Saturday, we repainted one of Adam's bathrooms. I will not disgust you with the details of the level of ick factor that this bathroom contained before I got hold of it - and Adam is a pretty clean person(especially for a guy!) But, now it is all pretty and clean(except for the very dilapidated shower doors which just need to be replaced IMHO). On Sunday I reworked the soil in a 3' x 7' flower bed with one of those garden claw things and planted some seeds for south western desert flowers. Oh My God! They should put a warning on those claw things about blisters! I have two huge burst blisters on my right hand and a few tiny ones that are still sealed.

Also, they should tell people in the "instructions" that it is easier to work with moist soil and therefore if you have a flower bed that has been neglected for a few years you should probably get it good and wet a day or two before hand. Anywho, while I did that Adam was busy tearing down a dilapidated patio cover(the smaller one of a set of two). Stubborn man that he is, he did it on his own despite the plethora of family that I have at my disposal and have frequently tried to force on him for help.

So, now I am home once again, have to start work on Wednesday, and I am good and pooped. I have mixed feelings about going to work on Wednesday. A few things about my schedule are up in the air I think and I'll feel better once they are nailed down and I get back into the swing of things. Anywho...it was a good summer overall except the whole being poor thing and I'll be looking forward to getting those full paychecks again!

Hope you all had a lovely summer as well!

2:05 AM - 22 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

Payback is a ...
Category: Writing and Poetry

Week 23 Topic: Good luck with that...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): Incorporate a forgotten Valentine
(easy, 1 point): include 3 kinds of fish

When I first started here, there was a rather annoying dude in the cubicle next to the water dispenser and across from the men's room. He was the type that always managed to look super busy and self-important, and yet he somehow always had plenty of time to bore people with mundane chatter as they passed him on their way to one or the other. At least the ladies in the office only had to see him for water breaks, since their restroom was on the opposite side of the room.

He had a horrible habit of ending every conversation with the phrase, "good luck with that…" He'd ask questions like, "so what's ole Harris got you workin' on now?" or "any plans for the weekend?" and no matter what your answer he'd respond, "good luck with that." And it wasn't a sincere response either. He managed to convey both a doubt that you could manage such a feat and a lack of respect for the activity itself in every use of the phrase.

A lot of people must have complained about his proximity to either the water cooler or the men's room because, at some point, his cubicle was relocated to the space across from the staff lounge. Now if you get too close to him you'll get a three page treatise on the detrimental effect of strong odors on his ability to concentrate. In one week I managed to get a lecture on why tuna, salmon, trout, asparagus, and cauliflower all should not be allowed in the office and I don't even eat fish.

The next day, I microwaved a large Tupperware container of clam chowder and left it on the table while no one was watching. He fumed and stormed about for the majority of the day with no way to discover who had been the perpetrator. It should come as no surprise to you folks that, come each Valentine's day, he's the only one in the office to receive no cards, flowers, or candy. Who's going to remember to get a gift for someone that rude and obnoxious?

Oh no! Here he comes. Quick, hand me my backpack and try not to make eye contact will ya?

"Hey Pete, I've got a bit of a dilemma here and I could really use your assistance man."

"Oh really, what's up?"

"Well unless I can find a ride, I'm going to have to take a bus to and from work everyday next week. I can't stand waiting in those terribly depressing lines with the trashy types that take public transportation."

"Oh wow, good luck with that hmm?"

1:36 AM - 46 Comments - 44 Kudos - Add Comment

Plain Jane gives up control
Category: Writing and Poetry

Week 22 Topic: Karaoke Night
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): include a five-word alliteration perfectly pestilential period of putrid poppycock
(easy, 1 point): incorporate a pirate saying.

It was as the fire engine was pulling up that she remembered the sounding boards in the trunk of that damn pinto. She rushed over to try to open the trunk to rescue the boards, but remembered that she had left the keys in the ignition. Since the entire front of the car was engulfed in flames, there was no sense even trying to get at the keys. A gust of wind chose just that moment to blow the acrid black smoke straight back into her face.

After a moment of hacking coughs, she was hauled away from the car by a pushy fireman and left in the ditch against the freeway enclosure wall. She looked down at the sky-blue silk blouse that she was wearing and found that she had no more room to be upset by the ashes that had coated the fibers. At least now people would notice the filth, instead of the fact that it did not match the bright red skirt that she wore.

She looked up in time to see the fireman's hose douse her trunk before it was properly aimed for the fire in her engine. She stared in horror for a moment before she muttered, "perfectly pestilential period of putrid poppycock," between her gritted teeth. Even if the boards survived the fire, there was no longer any way that she could salvage them. The liquid would cause the inks to run and the boards to disintegrate.

"Alright," she said imperiously, "I give up." She opened a text message on her blackberry and typed out, "firemen ruined boards, taking day off." Then she hit send and powered off her phone. She stood up straight and tall, closed her eyes, and tried to listen to her instincts. After a few moments she started walking toward the exit she had passed about a mile and half back.

Once she had made it off the freeway, she continued to follow her instincts and found herself walking through winding city streets. She passed girls on summer vacation paying a game of jump rope, double dutch to be more precise. The toes of her high heels began to pinch and her heels were throbbing, but still she walked. At precisely 10am she came to a dead stop in front of a dilapidated bar that had a skull and crossbones painted onto the window and a sign above the door that read, "All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

"Makes sense," she said in a clipped tone and pushed her way into the building. It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior after the bright morning light. Once she could see, she was startled to realize that, despite the early hour, the bar was packed to the brim. She pushed her way to the bar, ordered a Malibu and Pineapple, and drank in the exotic flavors.

Then, after she'd finished the drink, she allowed herself a moment to look around and realized that there was some sort of karaoke contest going on. "Why's the bar so full at this hour?" she asked after she'd ordered a second drink.

"Karaoke night starts early at Cap'n Joe's," the bartender said with an eyebrow raised. An hour later Jane was on stage, shoeless, singing Copa Cabana.

11:54 PM - 68 Comments - 60 Kudos - Add Comment

Plain Jane’s No Good, Awful, Very bad Day
Category: Writing and Poetry

When she woke up that morning, Jane felt an immense sense of impending doom sitting in the lowest part of her chest. It was almost as though it was trying to crush her stomach in its attempts to make itself known. Normally a very sensible and serious person, Jane was irritated by this recent example of "otherworldly phenomena." Ever since she'd worn those magic shoes it seemed as though she'd suddenly developed an intuition, one that wouldn't be ignored.

After a few moments she realized that the dull ache in her chest was not going to go away, so she tossed her covers aside in a huff and stormed into the bathroom. Precisely 20 minutes later she was showered, dressed, and coiffed for her workday a full hour early. Since this had never before happened, she wasn't sure what she should do with the free time.

She considered doing some final prep work on the presentation materials for today's conference with Dakota Fanning's agent. Before the thought was fully formed in her mind, she realized that because of her fastidious nature there was nothing that needed tweaking or improving. So, for the first time in her life she decided to relax over her morning coffee.

Pulling out the mug that had gotten her through college, but that she had not used for years due to its fanciful nature, she allowed herself to get lost in the images of La Persistencia de la Memoria. After a few moments of day-dreaming she pulled herself back to reality with a shake and poured herself a cup of coffee. After adding a healthy dollop of whipped cream, she set it on her dinette table and sat down with the book she'd bought for the week.

Fourty-five minutes later she felt the cold and clammy sign that something had dripped onto her skirt. Setting her book down on the table, she looked down to assess the situation. She was horrified to realize that the mug had been leaking coffee from a crack in the base and that the liquid had traveled to the edge of the table where it was now dripping on to her black skirt.

That wouldn't have been such a terrible thing had the mug not also been dripping onto her cream colored silk blouse with every sip. The camisole that she wore at all times to ensure that neither the pattern, nor the color of her bra was visible had also shielded her from feeling the drops. She jumped out of her chair and moved as though she was going to sprint back to her bedroom, but she was cut-off by the ring of her blackberry.

"Ms. Pressman is here right now," came the breathless and urgent words of her boss. "Is there any way you can get here any sooner with those sounding boards?" In the background she could hear a girl, probably Fanning, complaining, "I'm fourteen years old, I do not need a babysitter. Besides you work for me, not my parents."

"I can leave the house in two minutes," she promised before ending the call and dashing down the hall. She quickly threw on another outfit, loaded the boards into her car, grabbed her briefcase and dashed off to work. As her clunky brown pinto struggled to speed down the freeway, she imagined herself in a speedy little, silver sports car. It was the one fantasy that she consistently revisited.

She was five minutes from work when the engine gave a horrible clunking sound and then died, leaving her stranded one mile from her exit. Copious clouds of black smoke began pouring from her engine and she lurched fearfully from the car. Dedicated as she was, she called her boss first and he immediately began to moan about the loss of the account. By the time she dialed 911 and turned to survey her car again, the front end was completely engulfed in flames that raced through the edges of her hood.

"I should have just stayed in bed," she thought to herself as she noticed that the outfit she'd thrown on did not in fact match. "I knew this day was going down in flames."

7:01 PM - 66 Comments - 56 Kudos - Add Comment

Oh, for the love of...
Category: Life

"Oh, for the love of Pete," she swore loudly, as the nail that she was hammering bent for the third time in a row. She flipped the hammer over, pulled the nail into the claw, and yanked it out. Positioning her fourth nail into the awkward angle of the chair leg, she blew a stubborn hank of hair out of her face and began hammering again. This time the nail obeyed her wishes and went cleanly into the leg and fastened it back onto the chair's seat, kind of.

Then, she quickly applied a layer of wood glue to the juncture and set about putting a nail through the seat into the leg. Once she'd accomplished this step, she was then able to reattach the piece that connected two of the legs by forcing the wrong end of the nail into the leg and then forcing the end that remained sticking out into the second piece. More wood glue and, presto, one fixed heirloom chair.

Okay, so it wasn't ever going to function in its actual chair-like function again, but it would at least remain standing when jostled. It wasn't exactly a work of chair art, it wasn't ever going to be a priceless antique, but the set had belonged to her boyfriend's grandfather and then father. It was important to Adam that he held onto a little bit of family history, she'd seen it in his face when he'd shown her the underside of the chair where his uncle's name had been penciled in.

So, for the love of Adam, she'd spent a Sunday afternoon wrestling with stubborn pieces of wood and nails and becoming so sweaty she longed to jump fully clothed into any swimming pool, lake, creek, river, pond, or body of water of any sort that she could find. But, when Adam saw the chair and exclaimed, "I am amazed and know not what to say," she remembered why she'd set herself such an arduous task. Of course, it also didn't hurt that he pulled her close to slowly dance, the whirring of fans their only music.

4:38 PM - 64 Comments - 62 Kudos - Add Comment

Intentions
Category: Life

Ok...so I had every intention of posting another installment from the Teacher's Pet thing...but my head hurts bunches so instead I will simply whine. Or, whatever...

So...my left calf muscle finally stopped popping every other week or so and I figured it was safe to try to go out dancing again. But then...my right calf muscle was all tense and achy all week for no reason at all. I had every hope that it would be fine....but knew deep down it wouldn't be.

But, I stretched it over and over and made sure to have a few drinks before I tried to dance in an attempt to loosen it up,

No dice....the fricken first rotation of the very first dance and it popped. So, now it hurts and I didn't get to dance at all last night! Damned ungrateful muscles!

Anywho...my head hurts so I am going to spend the remainder of the hour before I head back to Adam's over at Angie's and just laze about...

5:51 PM - 14 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

The Teacher’s Pet
Category: Writing and Poetry

A hot flush filled her cheeks as she read the comments written at the bottom of the paper that she was grading. It was supposed to be a straightforward and very clinical lab report, and yet there was a little too much chemistry involved in this biology assignment. She, very carefully, peeked above the rim of her glasses without lifting her head, hoping that her bangs would conceal the glance. She was quite shocked to find that the intended goal of her gaze was not sitting in his seat. Rather, he was standing right in front of her with pen and paper in hand.

She immediately flipped the lab report over, hoping that he would not notice which paper she had been grading and in the process bumped the mug that sat on her desk. Before it could completely tip over, Harrison caught hold of it and deftly lifted it in such a way as to catch the spilling liquid. He calmly sniffed the liquid inside and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Enjoying your passion tea?" he asked as the dimple in his left cheek seemed to sparkle at her.

"I, uh, why yes, I mean, um," she stammered before slamming her hands onto her desk to gain control over her wildly fluttering nerves. "What is it you need exactly," she asked in the most matronly tone she could muster.

"Well, when you phrase it like that," he said with a quirk of his head, trailing off as though he was considering all manner of sordid activities. The heat in her face redoubled and he seemed to relent in the face of a possible explosion, whether of fury or lust he was not certain. "I was just wondering," he said more seriously, "if you could explain this particular outcome one more time." As he spoke he had set down her mug and offered her the sheet of paper on which he had made some notes in reference to a test he was performing.

1:23 PM - 12 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment