It's funny. Last year, I would have given anything to take an extra weekend off from helping 7-year-olds learn how to answer "Can a dog fly?" and fly myself to some exotic, foreign European country. And now, when I have five days to do whatever I want with them, I can't seem to figure out what to do with them.
Five furlough days from work means five days of not working (hooray!) but five less days of pay (boo!). And I'd rather not spend that week doing nothing but sleeping, much like I did over my Christmas vacation last week.
Having taken every chance I had to travel last year, spending a week doing nothing at home seems both boring and a waste of time. Do I need a reality check or a whole new brain?
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
I need rules
After a chat took place between my roommate and myself today, I discovered that unlike her, I need rules.
I need structure in my life, I need to know what comes next. I need to know what is expected of me and what my purpose is. Which is why it's been frustrating working at a place where there just aren't enough hands to provide some of that structure.
In remembering my 6th grade math teacher, Mr. Wallace (whose parents coincidentally lived next door to me), I remember him telling me to trust myself and stop asking questions. And while I recognize that asking questions is what I do, and what I love to do, I really should go out of my way more and take a few risks. Do some things without asking and just follow my own common sense. I'm bound to make mistakes, but there are safety nets in place and I must learn to trust them, and myself, to keep me from doing really dumb and stupid shit.
On an unrelated note, I have the next four days off! Mini-vacation. What shall I do with my time, besides sleep? Suggestions?
I need structure in my life, I need to know what comes next. I need to know what is expected of me and what my purpose is. Which is why it's been frustrating working at a place where there just aren't enough hands to provide some of that structure.
In remembering my 6th grade math teacher, Mr. Wallace (whose parents coincidentally lived next door to me), I remember him telling me to trust myself and stop asking questions. And while I recognize that asking questions is what I do, and what I love to do, I really should go out of my way more and take a few risks. Do some things without asking and just follow my own common sense. I'm bound to make mistakes, but there are safety nets in place and I must learn to trust them, and myself, to keep me from doing really dumb and stupid shit.
On an unrelated note, I have the next four days off! Mini-vacation. What shall I do with my time, besides sleep? Suggestions?
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Rocker nutcrackers and a good black tea
I was sticking to my guns as a Colorado-raised gal and refusing to buy a space heater for my ancient, icebox-of-a-home. Today, I caved in.
Given that the high today was 7 degrees, it's safe to say that my purchase of a space heater really was a necessity. My icebox house, surrounded by thick, hanging icicles that can only add to the house's "creepy" vibe, does not have central heating. Instead, there are two large furnaces, one for each side of the room. The living room is completely unheated and the two upstairs rooms, converted into balconies, rely on the law of nature that pushes hot air up. Needless to say, with my door closed, the only thing keeping me from the natural elements is the insulation (if any) between the four oddly-shaped walls in my attic room.
Opting to suck it up and buy a space heater, I travel to Target (the temperature at a smoldering zero degrees). While walking through the aisles, I was struck by one particular Christmas item -- the rock star nutcracker.
Unlike the traditional Russian-military nutcrackers, this one was wearing black leather pants and had a guitar strapped across its little wooden body. To compliment Mr. Rock, the nutcracker next to him was a tough-as-nails punk nutcracker, with pink hair and a mini-skirt. I attempted to take photos of these bad-ass nutcrackers but failed because the memory on my camera phone is full with pictures I took of The Bravery and The Sounds during their shows last month.
I found these nutcrackers amusing, and I hope to return to Target soon to photograph, if not purchase these amazingly useless items.
Now I'm off to write a profile for work before I go to bed. I think my mental sanity is more important than doing an hour's worth of work off the clock.
Given that the high today was 7 degrees, it's safe to say that my purchase of a space heater really was a necessity. My icebox house, surrounded by thick, hanging icicles that can only add to the house's "creepy" vibe, does not have central heating. Instead, there are two large furnaces, one for each side of the room. The living room is completely unheated and the two upstairs rooms, converted into balconies, rely on the law of nature that pushes hot air up. Needless to say, with my door closed, the only thing keeping me from the natural elements is the insulation (if any) between the four oddly-shaped walls in my attic room.
Opting to suck it up and buy a space heater, I travel to Target (the temperature at a smoldering zero degrees). While walking through the aisles, I was struck by one particular Christmas item -- the rock star nutcracker.
Unlike the traditional Russian-military nutcrackers, this one was wearing black leather pants and had a guitar strapped across its little wooden body. To compliment Mr. Rock, the nutcracker next to him was a tough-as-nails punk nutcracker, with pink hair and a mini-skirt. I attempted to take photos of these bad-ass nutcrackers but failed because the memory on my camera phone is full with pictures I took of The Bravery and The Sounds during their shows last month.
I found these nutcrackers amusing, and I hope to return to Target soon to photograph, if not purchase these amazingly useless items.
Now I'm off to write a profile for work before I go to bed. I think my mental sanity is more important than doing an hour's worth of work off the clock.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Ending the week with a bit of tzatziki
I had a pretty hectic week this week -- covering a crime story, something I really haven't done outside of class. What I found more difficult about covering this story was writing the actual article rather than the reporting, which is the opposite of how I normally feel.
In any case, since it's Friday and PAYDAY I went out on the town looking for a delicious dinner. Since I couldn't really decide on anything specific, I drove around Fort Collins, looking for something to catch my eye. What I found made me happy enough to dance on the streets in the 10-degree weather we're having.
Yum Yum, the Mediterranean/Arabic restaurant I found, satisfied the need I had for chicken schwarma. At last I've found falafel, I told myself. The smell of lime, basil and grilled chicken filled my heart with joy. The taste of my meal, however, left much to be desired.
The chicken in my schwarma was undercooked, which I recognize happens often in schwarma. I mean, what can you realistically expect when you cook your meat by making it spin on a giant tube?
If the pink meat wasn't enough, the way it was sliced was certainly of no help. Rather than slicing the meat into thin strips, the chicken was chopped into chunks -- large chunks, at that.
Hoping the tzatziki sauce might be a better bet, I uncovered the styrofoam cup to find large chunks of cucumber (anyone else seeing a trend?) The large pieces of cucumber and onion really overpowered the lime flavor and the small pieces of pita made eating the sauce complicated. Utilizing less cucumbers (and in smaller sizes) would certainly have helped, as would cutting down on the onions.
Overall, not a bad dinner for $12.00. But I'm a bit disappointed, Yum Yum. With the quality of food, I think you're only think you're qualified for one Yum.
In any case, since it's Friday and PAYDAY I went out on the town looking for a delicious dinner. Since I couldn't really decide on anything specific, I drove around Fort Collins, looking for something to catch my eye. What I found made me happy enough to dance on the streets in the 10-degree weather we're having.
Yum Yum, the Mediterranean/Arabic restaurant I found, satisfied the need I had for chicken schwarma. At last I've found falafel, I told myself. The smell of lime, basil and grilled chicken filled my heart with joy. The taste of my meal, however, left much to be desired.
The chicken in my schwarma was undercooked, which I recognize happens often in schwarma. I mean, what can you realistically expect when you cook your meat by making it spin on a giant tube?
If the pink meat wasn't enough, the way it was sliced was certainly of no help. Rather than slicing the meat into thin strips, the chicken was chopped into chunks -- large chunks, at that.
Hoping the tzatziki sauce might be a better bet, I uncovered the styrofoam cup to find large chunks of cucumber (anyone else seeing a trend?) The large pieces of cucumber and onion really overpowered the lime flavor and the small pieces of pita made eating the sauce complicated. Utilizing less cucumbers (and in smaller sizes) would certainly have helped, as would cutting down on the onions.
Overall, not a bad dinner for $12.00. But I'm a bit disappointed, Yum Yum. With the quality of food, I think you're only think you're qualified for one Yum.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Living without television
I was never much of a TV person. The only shows I can remember watching regularly were The O.C. and recently, So You Think You Can Dance. There was a time I was really into Prison Break during its first season, but that fizzled.
In any case, my new home does not have cable. Nor does it have a strong "local channels" signal, which basically means that I can't watch any television at all. Not the local NBC, ABC, CBS or FOX affiliates. Which means no SYTYCD, or even crappy CSI.
Even worse is the fact that because my roommate works evenings and I've always grown up with noise around me, my damn house is too quiet. My bedroom is upstairs so I have to lug my laptop around with me wherever I go -- from the kitchen to the living room and back to my room. Normally, I'd plop myself in front of the TV or chat with someone while eating dinner, but that's hard to do when there is no one to talk to and nothing but blurry images to watch.
So I guess this means that I am going to get cable. Which equates to another bill to pay/keep track of. More and more, this "real world" thing is becoming a bummer.
Now I have to go return two DVDs to Blockbuster AND take out the trash. In two inches of snow. Which I had to shovel this morning before going to work. And I'm starting to think eating these expired carrots was a bad idea.
In any case, my new home does not have cable. Nor does it have a strong "local channels" signal, which basically means that I can't watch any television at all. Not the local NBC, ABC, CBS or FOX affiliates. Which means no SYTYCD, or even crappy CSI.
Even worse is the fact that because my roommate works evenings and I've always grown up with noise around me, my damn house is too quiet. My bedroom is upstairs so I have to lug my laptop around with me wherever I go -- from the kitchen to the living room and back to my room. Normally, I'd plop myself in front of the TV or chat with someone while eating dinner, but that's hard to do when there is no one to talk to and nothing but blurry images to watch.
So I guess this means that I am going to get cable. Which equates to another bill to pay/keep track of. More and more, this "real world" thing is becoming a bummer.
Now I have to go return two DVDs to Blockbuster AND take out the trash. In two inches of snow. Which I had to shovel this morning before going to work. And I'm starting to think eating these expired carrots was a bad idea.
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