Tag: C.

Things You Might Not Know About Me

“I am not convinced that one ever knows quite enough to come down with a full condemnation.”
– Julian Fellowes, Snobs

Who Are You
via

I’ve had a surprising amount of recent encounters with people that ended with, “I didn’t think you’d be into that,” or some such variation (although for heaven’s sake, nothing sinister or scandalous!).  Even friends and coworkers with whom I’ve spent cumulative years in close proximity.  And it got me thinking about how readily all of us form ideas about even our close friends and how even lifelong mates can surprise us.  So here’s a few facts to add some nuance:

I really like science fiction.  Don’t let the pearls fool you.  I admit I’m not entirely up on the canon or all the great authors, but I genuinely enjoy the genre – for the same reason, as it happens, that I enjoy history.  Human nature and the human condition interest me.  History shows me that humanity has behaved in roughly the same way stretching back millennia, scifi shows me that as far as we can project we’ll be behaving the same ways millennia in the future.  Far from discouraging I find that a pleasant thought since I tend to view mankind as a sort of tenacious struggle, always upward.

My first recorded professional ambition was to be the first person to see a giant squid in the wild.

I have terrible handwriting.  I have boxes of notebooks kept through middle and high school, piles of scribbles and sketches, and my desk at work is a well organized but tightly packed mass of agendas, notes, and schedules – all handwritten.  I still prefer a small leather bound planner to an electronic calendar.  I write by hand all the time, and yet for all the practice my penmanship is dreadful.

I prefer salty and savory to sweet almost uniformly.

One of my personal disappointments is that I have a great relationship with my siblings but I don’t know them extremely well.  I moved out when my sister was six and she turns sixteen this year, and for the better part of those ten years we’ve lived on separate continent or on the opposite sides of one.  That’s ten years of inside jokes and stories that I simply am not privy to and only catch up on during holidays.

I know I have vivid dreams because I catch glimpses of them when I wake up, but I almost never can remember them.

Some girls have the knack for always looking finished and put together.  I always feel seconds away from terminal dishevelment and somehow no amount of effort seems to tame the flyaways.  I pretend not to care but I’m really self conscious about it and covet the easy polish of some women.

I love reading new books but my secret love is to reread favorites over and over again.  J. teases me about how I’ll read some novels a dozen times a year, but there are a select few I never get sick of.

I am a religious person often deeply at odds with my faith.  It’s sometimes a rough balancing act, but I think it makes me a more thoughtful person and more deliberate about life.  Which is what I think healthy religion is supposed to do, frankly, so in spite of the vexations, I’m okay with the struggle.

So, that’s me.  Minions roll call to the front, please, and tell me something about you that I probably don’t know.

We Take You Now to the Small Dog Family Flat…

…where J. has asked C. to quiz him on information for his business law class’ upcoming exam.  For some clarification of the following snippets, it is helpful to note that his study guide seems to have been compiled by blind monkeys tap dancing on a typewriter.  Let’s listen in, shall we?

“Name the conditions for unconscionability.”
“One party is Comcast?”
“Focus.”

~~~

“Talk to me about minors.”
[J. grins slowly]
Not the ones in Chile!”

~~~

“Term meaning that the Court will leave you as it finds you.”
“…”
Impere-”
“Delecto.  I was mixing that up with In flagrante delicto, but I knew that wasn’t right.”
“Um, no.  No it’s not.”

~~~

“What is a ‘covenant not to complete?'”
“Uh, I think you mean ‘compete.'”
“Look.  It says ‘complete,’ right there.”
“Oh, so it does.  It’s wrong, though.”
“I could write a more coherent study guide than this!”

~~~

“Help, help, I’m being duressed!”

~~~

“Hold on!  Are they making up legal terms?”
“Looks like it.”
“But they can’t do that!  ‘Assign-ee?’  ‘Offer-or?’  ‘Oblige-or?’  These sound like video game character names!  And I’ve counted six spelling mistakes on this page alone.
“Calm down, C..”
“I can’t!  This is wrong!”

~~~

“That reminds me!  Have I showed you that YouTube clip -”
“Focus, J..”
“The one from the Simpsons?”
“Don’t.”
“It’s funny!”
“I don’t care.”
“You need to see it -”
“Pay attention or I will papercut you to death with this thing, so help me!”

~~~

“Ok.  Fraud.  Give me five examples.”
“Number one, inception.   DUNN.   DUNNNN.  DUNNNNNNNNNNN.”

~~~

“I am not a monkey.”
“Good.  Anything else you want me to mention on the blog?”
“Quiet, you.”

~~~

“Explain ‘reformation.'”
“Martin Luther nailed – ”
“We’re done.”

Supply and Demand

“I want to make Korean food this week.  Let’s to to the Asian market.”
“I just got back from the store.  You can go get things without me you know.”
“I like to go with you.  You tell me what I can and can’t buy.  Because I’d come home with Korean marshmallow pies and you know it.”
– C. and J.

We do and buy strange things sometimes.

J.’s been into a new exercise regimen recently, and after begging me for a few days for a pull up bar and finding a good deal on one, I gave in.  Naturally one thing led to another and now our house looks even more ghetto as he had to take off the door to our office to use it.  I resisted that for a couple of days too, but since I have my bike sitting pretty in the front room I had lost the aesthetic appeal already and didn’t have a leg to stand on. But as he works out everyday and I ride my bike faithfully (for an hour yesterday, kittens!  My legs are jello!) I suppose the loss of a door is alright.  Except when company comes over.

Then,because summer arrived quite suddenly this year–we went from snow to heat in mere days, what gives!–I realized, as I do every year, that I was dying.  I didn’t own a single pair of shorts.  So I marched into Old Navy and bought a stack.  Jupiter, Odin, and Quetzalcoatl, what have I been missing?!  You mean wearing these things makes my legs that much less glow-in-the-dark white, and keeps me cool?  What has a professional-only wardrobe done to me?!

Finally, while doing the grocery shopping yesterday, I came across almond butter.  I’d read of its awesomeness here at Thinspired, and from various health conscious friends and so snatched it up.  Go.  Buy.  This.  Stuff.

It Was a Simpler Time

“All the ancient histories, as one of our wits say, are just fables that have been agreed upon.”
-Voltaire

Yesterday Lt. Citrus called me into his office and waved his hand at a pile of binders.  It was the media files archives of our department, newspaper clippings mostly, and it went back to 1960.
“We don’t need these anymore,” he said.  “Can you get rid of them and save the binders?”

?!?!?!?!

I stretched out my hands dumbly and let him plop a stack in my hands and then tottered back to my desk where I opened them up.

The Civil Rights movement, the Vietnam War, the first female officer to graduate from the state’s police academy…the earliest documented complaints about parking (an as yet unresolved problem!) when we had a fraction of the student number we do now…a completely unique perspective on the history of the campus was sitting on my desk and I was supposed to just shred it?!  Clearly they forgot I majored in history!

I begged off my other chores and began putting things in order.  I’ve spent the last day and a half scanning articles and photos that document the history of the department (beginning back when we had an ex-LA cop fish a bunch of wallets out of the campus pond and search for the owners, all the way to the 40+ full time, state-certified officers we have now along with nearly 200 student employees).  And come across some real gems!

Throw this stuff away.  Pfft!  I’m already in contact with the university archivist.

Showing off items abandoned in the Lost and Found. The one on the right kind of looks like Peggy Olson from Mad Men.
Contrary to popular belief, we neither live in Mayberry, nor whistle frequently.

Zapped

“Electricity is really just organized lightening.”
– George Carlin

Small Dog is positively charged.

We have card swipes on the doors to the secure areas of the department.  Today while sliding my card through the reader, I got a jolt of power through my arm. Much like the time I unscrewed the bulb from a night light when I was seven (old enough to know better) and stuck my finger in the gap to see what it felt like.  Don’t recommend it.

Later in the room where I take peoples’ fingerprints, the light wasn’t turning on.  I flipped it a couple of times with no result until suddenly the lights buzzed into life…while the switch was in the “Off” position.

I’ve also been on the receiving end of two static shocks today.

What on earth is going on?!

Mothers’ Day, or Why We Shouldn’t Have Kids Soon

“For the record, I hate it when people do things to celebrate ‘future mothers’ on Mothers’ Day, like giving out flowers in church, so I don’t want to do anything with the holiday until we actually have kids.  However, if I’m pregnant on Mothers’ Day, I will expect you to do something, in the name of the fetus.”
“Duly noted.”
– C. and J.

While kids are a long ways off for us, we do have fun thinking about, arguing over, and speculating on our future family.  “You know you can’t swear in front of the kids, right?”,  “They will learn proper grammar, so help me!”, and “Piano lessons and a language are mandatory, ok?”  He looks forward to wrestling with them on the floor and playing catch, I look forward to answering questions and watching them discover the world.  And forcing them to read (though with us as parents, I don’t foresee too great a struggle in that vein).  I like to tease him about how, by marrying a petite woman like me, he’s forfeited his chance at a child playing basketball, and he counters that he’s switched his plans to baseball.  He takes a great deal of pleasure in shooting down all my potential baby names, and I smugly let him think what he wants because after nine months toting the little parasite around, gaining weight, going mental, being violently ill, and forcibly expelling it through a grueling multi-hour ordeal, I think I’ll manage to get the final say. 

 However, we are firmly on the same page regarding one thing about children: slave labor.  Oh, yes.  They will have chores.  Starting young.  It’s going to be fun to make them pull weeds, mow the lawn, and dust the house.  Mummy loves you, darlings!

I Need a Weekend…

“It’s a sin to be tired.”
-Kate Moss

Round about finals, we all get a little loopy.  J.’s schedule affects me just as much as it does him because we only have one car so where one goes, the other must follow.  Meaning, that because J.’s exams start at 7am, guess who also gets to come into work an hour early?

The disruption to our sleep schedule means that C. becomes a walking zombie of ludicrousness.

Our flat hasn’t been cleaned in over a week, I reach a point of exhausted hysteria by 9pm every night, I can’t speak properly, the smallest and most basic tasks become incomprehensible, and I have a perma-migraine raging behind my right eye.

Pictured: J.'s friends Tim and Heidi. As seen by C. at 10pm.

But I knew I’d reached critical mass last night when driving home from my sister-in-law’s (Milly) bridal shower (her fiance spent his evening with the future-brothers-in-law and assorted children), J. was talking about his friends, “Tim and Heidi,” and I furrowed my brow in tired confusion.
“Wait?  Tim and Heidi?  As in Gunn and Klum?”

Sidenote: do they not (his friends, I mean) have the potentially most awesome Halloween costume?