010: Somnambulism

Dead on my feet for no good reason today; just Monday, I guess. Got to work this morning to be told someone broke into the office next door over the weekend -- door smashed to bits and everything -- and stole a laptop and some stamps(?). Bizarre, and unfortunate.

Better things from over the weekend? My Jeopardy! second-place winnings -- minus California withholding tax -- came on Saturday, and my birthday gifts, the three DVD sets my mom had squirreled away in her closet (Castle season 2, Bones season 5, and True Blood season 2). All in all, not too shabby.

In conclusion, Don Draper.

009: One year closer to death

I'm twenty-four years old today, and I'm celebrating by watching Burn Notice and perusing the public library's catalog of ebooks for my Nook. Tonight, I get beef short ribs for dinner and French silk pie. It might sound lame to you, but look up at the header on this blog: "homebody." Happy birthday to me, indeed.

008: Sanity

Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was shot in the head during an event in her Arizona congressional district this morning. Giffords is in critical condition; six others, including a federal judge and a nine-year-old girl, were killed. In all, nineteen people were shot. While he didn't confirm a political motive for the shooting, the Pima County Sheriff had this to say:

“The anger, the hatred, the bigotry that goes on in this country is getting to be outrageous. And unfortunately, I think Arizona has become sort of the capital, we have become the Mecca for prejudice and bigotry. There’s reason to believe that this individual might have a mental issue, and I think that people who are unbalanced might be especially susceptible to vitriol.”

So I just want to take a moment to use my insignificant corner of the internet to advocate for sanity and civility in the way we talk about politics, especially when talking to those with whom we disagree. From what I've seen, very little gets done and accord is rarely reached by screaming at each other. My thought is this: a little common sense is never a bad thing.

All hopes and wishes for recovery to Rep. Giffords and the others injured today, and condolences to the families of those killed.

007: All a-Twitter

Offered without comment, except to say that between this and Never Mind the Buzzcocks, I totally have a crush on Josh Groban.

006: True colors

I can't think of a single thing to write about today, so have some colorful photos from my Flickr favorites:





Also:

IT'S A TRAP

005: The Very Depths of Winter

Snow on Monday, subzero windchills Tuesday, more snow today. Somewhere around mid-January is when I despair of ever again leaving the house wearing just one pair of socks and dream of the day the long underwear goes back into storage. But lest you think Minnesotans don't enjoy the winter, I direct you to the poem written by Peter Moore (read on Moore on Sunday by his father, the late, great local newsman Dave Moore) about this time of year:

A Great Winter Sport
The best part of winter, the best part by far,
Is kicking those ice chunks that form on your car.
No matter our ages or races or genders
We all enjoy booting that slush off our fenders.
It's deeply fulfilling, that contact and sound
Of boot hitting chunk and then chunk hitting ground.
It makes you feel better, it makes your day brighter,
It makes your Tercel about twenty pounds lighter!
And boy, what a workout! We all could be hunks
By starting each morning with kicking some chunks!
So next time you spot one, no matter how awesome,
Don't wait and think maybe you might let it thaw some;
Go after it mister! Attack it with zeal,
And manfully give it the back of your heel!
It may take you weeks, but of course that's good, too:
The winter goes faster with something to do!

from Gone Writing

This runs through my head every time I clear the accumulated mush off my car. And yes, it really is that satisfying.

P.S. If you don't know what these "ice chunks" are, I suggest the photos here for reference.

004: They call her Lemon

I am reminded on a daily basis that there's a strong possibility I will become Liz Lemon as I get older. Today, I unironically exclaimed "blerg" aloud, at work. Turning into Lemon is not necessarily a bad thing; I want her job and her apartment, and she dates men who look like Jon Hamm and Matt Damon, of which I approve. It's a little ridiculous how much I, a bespectacled brunette writer who really, really likes TV, identify with Lemon.


I went through junior high just before the card catalog became completely obsolete, so they still had to teach us how to use it, and I distinctly remember being the only one in seventh-grade Language Arts who thought it was cool. I'm perpetually on the hunt for a card catalog cabinet I can buy for my theoretical apartment. Liz has a card catalog in her apartment. She might be my home decor soulmate.


look! it's there, in the back!
I share Liz's feelings about people younger than me.


Also, we both have terrible posture.


I know that Liz is supposed to be sort of a sad-sack character, with her emotional eating, her terrible sense of style (which I don't think is that bad, but I do dress like her) and her train wreck of a personal life, but when I think about it...


(gratuitous screenshot is gratuitous)
...she must have awesome stories. So, the point of this picspam and rambling is this: while moving back home after college definitely makes me feel like a loser, it's okay, because Liz Lemon is kind of a loser, and she's doing all right.



Or I could just, you know, adopt Tina Fey as a role model instead. Hmm.

003: Bigger on the inside

I spent the day underground in the storage caverns at work, hefting boxes and trying to decipher their contents, so rather than put together coherent thoughts, I'll just toss up a few found-on-the-internets images from Doctor Who (2005-present, not classic Who, through which I am still slowly working my way). I used to say, only half-joking, that I was still waiting for my Hogwarts letter to arrive. Now, as an adult, I'm waiting for the TARDIS to turn up in my driveway.

I'm only halfway kidding.










all images via weheartit

002: The Sound of Shuffle

Please do pardon me as I talk in circles about music.

I finally got the latest My Chemical Romance album for Christmas -- Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys -- and have been listening to it on repeat since I ripped the tracks (from CD, how archaic!) to iTunes last week. It's been a while since I got an actual, physical copy of an album, and having the disc in my hands reminded me of high school, when I would get a new CD and listen to it and nothing else for about a week. I still like getting a hard copy of new music when I can afford it, because album art is one of my favorite things, and looking at the digital stuff that comes with iTunes albums just isn't the same as squinting at the lyrics printed in three-point font in the booklet. On a side note, I feel like I'm too young to be complaining about the kids these days with their iTunes and their Facebooks and how they have no appreciation for the way it used to be, dagnabbit. However, I do think it's just a much less engaging experience to shop for music in the iTunes store than going to a brick-and-mortar store and flipping through CDs or LPs. It's almost too easy.

Since I got my iPod as a college freshman, I haven't often listened to an album straight through. I'm addicted to shuffle. My iTunes library has over 6000 songs and is permanently set to shuffle. (As a result, there are probably songs I haven't heard in about three years.) Even when I listen to a single album, chances are the tracks are being shuffled. I don't know where I developed such an aversion to linear listening, but even things like Green Day's American Idiot and Muse's The Resistance, which are meant to be listened to in a particular order, get shuffled. I don't know why, but after a couple of listens, mixing the tracks up makes it more fun. I suppose it's like listening to a whole new album with songs that you already know; or maybe I just like being taken by surprise.

Oddly enough, when I make playlists, I slave over the tracklist to make sure they're in the perfect order. Go figure.

On a different note, allow me to recommend some of my favorite albums of 2010:

Jeremy Messersmith, The Reluctant Graveyard
Fantastic, moody, amazing.






Sara Bareilles, Kaleidoscope Heart
Sassy and mellow by turns.






Motion City Soundtrack, My Dinosaur Life
Energetic and slightly crazed, in the best possible way.




Enough blathering. Back to work.

001: The Resolution Declaration

I've tried New Year's resolutions in the past. Things like "lose those last five pounds" (2006-2010) or "finish that spec script for the fellowship application" (2008-2010) or "eat less chocolate" (2000-2010). Oddly enough, they never take. If anything, I've started eating more chocolate, and have no intention of stopping.

This year, I'm trying something different. This year, my goal is to post something on this blog every day. Whether it's something well-crafted and carefully considered or just a YouTube video (like, say, Sesame Street's Old Spice commercial parody), I'm going to get back into the habit of blogging.

Of course, I'm also doing the 50 Book Challenge, as I have since 2007, and interested parties may follow my progress on Goodreads. Be forewarned: my literary tastes alternate between the highbrow and the highly questionable.

So this is day one. Happy New Year, Internet! Wish me luck.


photo by R I V A on flickr