Good God I Need This Sign

It's the little things

I've been finding myself getting annoyed at the little things lately. Just the everyday annoyances of living in a culture so different than my own. This is an entirely normal state of culture shock, or so I'm told. I'm in the one-month mark, so I suppose this is a normal place to be. I'm annoyed by the fact that I can't read the ingredients in anything I eat because it's all in Korean. (I used to think it's cool; now it's a hassle.) I'm annoyed by the fact that I get sneers and jeers on the subway because I am a white person. I am annoyed by the fact that I can't drink the water from the tap even though I am in a modern high-tech town. The list goes on. Tonight though, I come to you with the news that I am thrilled that I figured out how to work my new adapter/voltage plug so that I can charge my camera's battery. I haven't been able to do this in three weeks and it finally came (thanks, Mom!) It's the little things like that I take pleasure in. I shouldn't be so excited, but I really am. I'm excited that I can finally distinguish the six basic Korean vowels, even if I can't pronounce them. It's the little things people. Now I'm off to make a play list for what I hope will be my run tomorrow evening. I should be sleeping, it's after midnight, but I am awake because I slept later this morning. Good thing I don't have to be at work until 10! Woo!

The feared and dreaded dentist visit in my hometown

I've never been a fan of dentists, but I've never had a reason to fear them either. I've never had so much as a cavity in my life, and I'm told this week that I need a root canal on tooth number seven. I don't know what an endodontist is, but I'm told I have to see one. I have clean teeth and great home care, according to my dental hygienist, but I have problems that go beyond the dentist's realm of specialty. I visit the office of Dr. Jeffry K. Waters, over at Endodontics of Atlanta. I'm feeling pretty good about the fact that I've never been to an endodontist before, but I'm still pretty nervous. I crack a joke, because that's the first thing that comes to mind when I'm nervous. The first thing that comes to my mind is the Steve Martin dentist scene in Little Shop of Horrors. Yes, I went there.

Me: So, is this going to resemble the dentist scene in that movie about the plants?

Assistant lady and chief communicator Michelle: Only slightly.

Me: You must think you are funny or something.

Michelle: I try. Hey Dr. Waters, this looks exactly like it did in the manual, doesn't it?

Dr. Waters: Yeah, we don't do this very often. Looks pretty good. (Laughs)


Me: You think you are funny or something. (Only, it sounded more like Yousstinksyoussunnyozsomtsin because dentists have a knack of asking you what you are thinking only after they've jammed your mouth full of equipment, no?)

Michelle: Remember that bus stop I was telling you about out the window? I found him (points to doctor) by looking out the window.

Dr. Waters: She's right. If this endodontics thing doesn't work out we are so going to open mike night later.

Me: (rolls eyes)

At least someone has a sense of humor here. It turned out that my tooth is more screwed up than I thought it was, so I can't actually do the root canal here. Dr. Waters injected me with medicine to decalcify my tooth number seven (sounds lovely, right?) and I have to find someone in the Twin Cities. (Recommendations welcome.)

People of Walmart

Just once, I would like the publishers of this site to showcase the stupid People of Wal-Mart in a northern or western state. I promise, not all of us southerners (and I consider myself a southerner because I was born and bred there) are as dumb as this, and yes, I guarantee there are people in Wal-Marts all over the mid west (Minnesota, namely) that are equally as dumb. But you wouldn't know it from this site. I am sick of the southern-stupid stereotype!

I *heart* Julia Sugarbaker (and the rest of the Designing Women cast)

Found this on Facebook/NPR today and thought it was funny. Here's the link and my rant.

http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/2009/05/a_designing_women_game_write_y.html?sc=fb&cc=fp

I would rather spend two hours sharing SPINACH DIP with TONYA HARDING than watch a woman who apparently purchased her intellect at VALUE VILLAGE for $4.82, chase twenty-five men with biceps made of TIN, and heads packed with COCOA PUFFS.

Because when future generations look upon what we have left for them, which may by then be little more than THE AMAZON DEFORESTATION and millions of non-biodegradable IPODSs, I fear they will conclude that they would have welcomed bread and circuses if only they had realized the alternative was BUGLES and JON AND KATE PLUS 8.

[sits down and crosses arms, but then immediately stands back up]

And let me tell you a little something about romance: Handing out roses like you are a mascot throwing BUTTERFINGERS to the assembled hooligans at a TWINS GAME is not my idea of romance. Romance is a man who knows the difference between JOHN KENNEDY and JOHN LENNON and who is capable of putting on a PASHMINA without scratching his head as if he is connecting a POWER CORD without the instruction manual.

So do not ask yourself why I do not particularly enjoy a television show where the assembled male candidates represent romantic prospects inferior to the workers on the night shift at the SUBWAY in BIRMINGHAM ALABAMA. Ask yourself whether, after a lifetime playing with a cultural POKEMON and dancing on the grave of ANNE SHIRLEY, you will ever...recover...your dignity.

LOVE IT!!!

Three song picks of the day

For some reason or another, I have three songs stuck in my head, on repeat. Share a bit of my world for a minute. No judgment please.

1. Fighter (Christina Aguilera)

Yes, I realize it's Christina, and pop crap, but it does make me feel a little bit better about life knowing that everything is a test and everything I do will make me that much better.

'Cause it makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
Makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
It makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter

2. Superman, aka Scrubs soundtrack

Two words: Zach Braff. Enough said. Should be an anthem for anyone in the nonprofit/service/helper fields. Seriously.

Well I know what I've been told
Gotta break free to break the mold
But I can't do this all on my own
No I can't do this all on my own
I know that I'm no Superman
I'm no Superman
I'm no Superman

3. Somebody More Like You (Nickel Creek)

Just because I adore a good break up song.

I didn't hear you say you're sorry
The fault must be mine
I wish you all the best of luck
At finding somebody more like you

I seem to be posting weekly now

For no good reason at all...of course I could use the guise that I've been insanely busy trying to be the best I can be at work and at school, as well as at home, but really, I just haven't made the time for blogging. I'm not even quite sure where blogging fits into my life anymore. I've been watching movies for fun, not sitting down at the computer. I've been working out to relieve stress, not sitting down at the computer. Eventually, I would like to return to blogging and writing in general, but until then, until an inspiration hits, you lovely readers will have to deal with this mess of a blog to read. Random musings and quizzes and movie reviews when I feel like it. I did choose a new template, which I seem to do every month or so. I'm going to leave you now and go get some actual papers written and decide which assessments I am going to give for my case study this week. Oh, and probably do some reading in there. Feel free to leave comments on what you would like to see in this space, or just tell me to give it up, now! Happy Monday, and Happy Presidents Day. Enjoy the day off work, those who get one. And enjoy the day at work, those that are there.

Random Photo of the Day

Because I feel like posting a photo and not writing anything. And because I love giraffes. Fun stuff. What do giraffes make you think of?

More motivational posters

Just because I know you loyal readers LOVE them.

Why I've been MIA lately

On Friday, I went to hear this dude read from his new book and it was amazing. It was so amazing I need a new word for amazing. I bought the book. True genius is all I'm gonna say. I'm not even going to go on because you need to buy it yourself and read it and then we can talk. Saturday I worked and then went to a poetry slam, which I have never been to before but really enjoyed. On the way home from the poetry slam (we biked) my housemate A who was pedaling behind me screams "they just threw away the day old bread" at the top of his lungs as we ride past the Franklin Street Bakery a block from our house. As we pull up to the house to park our bikes, A suggests to my roommate A and myself "hey they just put a bunch of bread in the dumpster behind the bakery, do you want to go dumpster diving?"

Since A and A are a pair and I'm the trusty sidekick for the evening, and A decides to go along with A, I decide to come too. Because either a. I don't have a brain or b. I need some more entertainment for the evening. I've never been dumpster diving before and it might must make a good blog post or chapter for my novel later. We get there, and there's a "no trespassing" sign on the gate to the dumpster, but the gate is open. There are not one but THREE large trash bags full of day-old bread. Tied up, non-punctured, and sitting in the dumpster, which is about a foot over our heads. Male A reaches up and punches a hole in the bag, and doesn't hesitate to grab a slice of sourdough and take a bite from it. We contemplate taking it, see a cop drive by, and walk away slowly. "It's too heavy," male A says ashamed of himself. All of sudden, female A can't be outdone and challenges male A to a competition. The two of them race toward the dumpster again and proceed to dig it out, lift it up and run toward the house. It starts to fall, and they beg me to grab it before it hits the ground.

So I know this isn't funny now, but at the time, we were in so many stitches of laughter we could not hold the bag and what's more, the hole in the bag was creating a Hansel and Gretel effect all the way back to our house. At least the squirrels and birds won't starve. We get home, and none of us has a house key, so we beat on the door until M answers it only to find the three of us whacked out on breadcrumbs and carrying a body-bag size bag of bread. It should be said now that M is allergic to glutin and can't eat bread. But she goes along with it. We dump the bag out on the floor and J just stares at us from the covers on the couch. "What the hell" I think just about covers her response. For the remainder of the night we bagged the bread into individual bags and started giving it away and putting it in the freezer.

Not one of my brightest moves, but then again, I won't have to buy bread again, ever. And I'm not dead yet. It was a pretty sweet evening. I bet you've never dumpster dove for bread?

Now that I've shared, what was the stupidest thing you've ever done as a younger person? Speak up now!