I am booooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrred. I'm so bored, I couldn't end that last sentence in an exclamation point. I'm so bored, I almost forget to breath. I'm so bored that my attention span has shrunk to the point where the only things that can entertain me have to be mindless (ie, lame card games on my iPhone). I'm so bored, I've forgotten how to read and write (ooh, ooh, irony). I'm so bored, I might slip into a coma. I'm so bored, I've nurtured a caffeine addiction. And it's not like I haven't tried to find something to do. Anytime I try to do something, my boss comes in and takes over. Or if I suggest helping in bindery, he says, "nah, the guys'll get it." I really am redundant here. Two people are doing a single job here that could be done part-time most of the year. So compounding the depression caused by boredom, is the fact that I'm not needed.

This whole work boredom has really seeped into my life. Some days, it's all I can do to stay awake and engaged, even after work. I start to get itchy around two everyday. Trying to come up with excuses to leave early. I'm quite tired of the apathy. Oh well.

Brown tomatoes

I water my single tomato plant every morning before work. It has only recently started to fruit, but there have been three tomatoes on it for a month it seems. Always electric green. Until this morning. This morning, the older tomatoes are brown. Brown, like the mix of red and green. Woo!

New Blog!!

I'm starting a new blog called "Unotype." It is all art, all the time. I tried an art blog before, but got bored with it. I also started it right as I stopped printing. Well, I'm back to work and want a way to share/show-off.

My Decemberists mood is a little early this year. Maybe because it's been such a cool summer.

Up

Oh yeah, so I saw Up this weekend.

afsklj HJKLRWIauj njsdflkPAJK fu!!!! Yeah!

Small World

One of my fellow jurors was a philosophy professor at IU. He teaches logic and I mentioned I took logic at S. Carolina for my math (analytical thinking) requirement. He perked up and asked if I'd had a particular professor with whom he'd gone to graduate school. I did!

Also, the plaintiff's son is a local musician. I googled him and found out the band he plays in. Amazingly, I've heard of them from a recording studio sampler I got on Record Store Day. And I like them. They're one of my favorite songs from my favorite sampler.

And not so much in the small world department, but my boss paid me for half the time I missed. That was super nice of him. I'm super grateful because this summer is going to be tight as it is.

Jurorsaurus

For a change of pace, all last week, I sat for 8 hours a day. Well, actually, I guess not change of pace. Exact same pace. Different place. Different time. Different pay. Less comfortable chair. I was a juror on a personal injury lawsuit. I sat through four days of character witnesses and doctors' testimonies. It was a rude invasion into someone's life, but she volunteered it.

I have a new loathing for personal injury lawyers. Their logic is annoyingly fallible. The plaintiff's lawyer's closing arguments were literally nauseating. His attempt at mixing logic with emotion wouldn't emulsify. You know, mayonnaise is an emulsion of vegetable oil and egg yolks. Try eating that unemulsified and that's about how I felt during his closing argument. Then, the defense followed. The two lawyers split their time. The woman's argument was more palatable. For me, her argument and the testimony of one of the doctors really shaped my opinion. The male defense lawyer tried the fire and brimstone angle. Not a fan. He started yelling about how the plaintiff's emotional argument made him angry. I don't respond well to yelling. I shut down.

We deliberated for 2.5 hours and awarded the plaintiff about 6.5% of what they asked for.

Bacon is also no longer cool

I'm also tired of this bacon mania thing. Oooh it's so subversive to like bacon. It's so anti-health establishment. Bacon is done, now. Thanks.

Except this: Bacon!
This is still funny because I say so.

Mustaches aren't cool

Nor are they cool in any ironic way.

Mustaches drawn on your finger, which is held up to your lip: Not cool. Marginally clever for a while, but not anymore.
Mustaches made from felt and held on with double sided tape: Not cool.
Papier-mâché mustaches on sticks (like antique masks): Cool concept, but the mustache cliche totally ruins it.
Mustache contests: So done!
The only good mustaches ever: Rhett Butler and Tom Selleck.

Wasting Time

I need new reading material. Food blogs are making me hungry. Design and art blogs are putting too many ideas into my head. Funny (stupid) blogs are making me stupid and not funny. I don't have the concentration for actual informative blogs. I just need to sit back for a second and refocus.

Force cleaning

I'm a slob. My only saving grace is that I'm not an extreme pack rat. I'm a binge and purge style collector and cleaner. I let it build up and build up and then one weekend, I devote myself to getting rid of the mess. I'd like to be able to clean it as I go, but I'll take what I can get.


Until now . . .

I may have discovered the trick to overcoming my cleaning procrastination. I always set a list of small goals with cleaning. Such as hang all the clean clothes I've thrown around while trying to assemble and ensemble. Such as clean off my dresser. Such as make piles to sort later. No more specific tasks set. Just time. Now, I put on an album or mix and clean through its duration. When it's played through, I stop. I want to say that when it's over, I must absolutely stop cleaning, but I'm sure I'll usually keep going.

I'm out to change my patterns. That's my big thing right now. Identify these habits–or lack of–and see and implement tiny adjustments to my routine, in order to eliminate bad habits and instill good ones. Clever changes too. It helps if I am not annoyed with stupid self-helpie things. I'm not writing affirmations in lipstick on my mirror. "You can do it" in Berry Blush just is not my style.

Oh yeah, I've been going to a therapist for a couple of months now.

One Week, One Day

I'm leaving for Los Angeles to visit Alana. I'm super excited. Just one week left. My moping is drastically reduced when I remember my impending departure.

Random

When I see the word "slaughter," I always read it as though it were pronounced like laughter. A quick google search indicates that this is not unique. Damn google!

I've been running low the last two months and one week. And I'm going to say the dumbest thing anyone could ever say, but I wish people didn't die. I guess I'm just at the kind of meh stage of grieving. Yesterday was my aunt's birthday. And it's weird. I kept spontaneously crying all day. Most of the time it was just leaky tear ducts. But a few times, I had full on break downs. The whole time, I kept thinking how I wanted to talk to my mom. Just someone to say, "I know sweetie. It is hard. You grew up with her. She was an influential part of your life." Maybe throw in a few sympathetic grunts and hmms. But that's not what I've got. I'm not sure if that's ever what I would have gotten from my mom, but for sure, I'd have gotten maybe an "aww," but then a quick segue to something that's been bothering her.

So I called my aunt Linda instead. Guess what she said to me. "I know sweetie. It is hard. You grew up with her. She was an influential part of your life." And then we talked about bookshelves and movies. My aunt Linda is the master of strategic small talk. She acknowledged how I was feeling. Didn't try to make it go away. Commiserated, and then talked about something else.

So here's what I know about Marilyn. She was from New York, like gargoyles, had dogs for children. That's it. She had the most beautiful smile. In my childhood, when things seemed nice, she was vivacious and smiled a lot. She made her own pasta. Then sometime, fifteen years ago, my whole family seemed to just get tired. We weren't as happy as we had been. It was like everybody gave up on going all out for each other. Then they gave up on being nice. Eventually, they gave up on being considerate. Marilyn stopped trying so hard, but she never stopped trying to be nice. She shielded me and my brother from the rockiness of the relationships between our family members.

Update on the McSweeney's

I forgot to mention it sooner...

My McSweeney's are great. Funny thing though. Remember in my emailing to the office? How I said if they were heavy and from Seattle my week would be made? Well, one of the boxes had been used to ship condoms to Planned Parenthood. Gah, I should have taken a photo. But the box was labeled "1000 Clear Lubricated Condoms" and "Planned Parenthood." So yeah, make my week.

Immediacy now.

Right now, Euler is sitting beside me, resting his nose on my forearm. Just the tip. Just one tiny, vaguely cold point of rest on my arm. Such a minute thing to focus on, but it's keeping me from thinking about how today is my aunt's birthday, only she's too dead to celebrate it.

Caffeine glasses

What was I thinking? Two shots of espresso!? I'm not happily bouncing about. My peripheral vision and concentration are nada. Bah.

Coffee Coffee Coffee

I stopped at Starbucks today. I ordered one of their pairings: tall latte and oatmeal. Oatmeal? Yum. Tall lattes? Meh. I only taste milk, so today I asked that they make it like a short latte?less milk. I didn't mind being charged for a tall. I just wanted it to taste better. The barista, who looked a bit like Gregory Hines, accepted that, but looked up, smiled, and said, "I'll do you one better. How bout I just put in two shots of espresso."

Yes please!

Thank you.

It's perfect.

What? Only Wednesday?

Just a venting e-mail I wish I could send to a client

Hi *******,
To start, I am painfully aware that I messed up your letterhead, but you're being big about it and using what you've got. However, you saw them before I printed them. You approved the print. You really don't need to passive-aggressively remind me that they were wrong. You could very easily have asked that they be reprinted. I'm sure we would have done it at no extra charge. But you would rather hold it over me. We've already printed something to your satisfaction since. So from now on, I'd appreciate it if you could just let it go. I will remember you're a bitch and will pay extra attention to your jobs without you having to say a word.
Thanks

Pet Peeve # 2839

Long e-mail addresses. Example:

janeelizabethpeterson@janeelizabethpetersongraphicdesigns.com

No, it's not a real e-mail address. I hope. Also it is an exaggeration, but not by much.

Money money money

Holy easy money batman. Uh, my state tax return has already been deposited in my savings account. I filed my taxes a week ago!!!

The Compleat McSweeney's have arrived!

Hello Carman,
I just wanted to make sure you knew there were two packages at the office for you. I believe a substitute mail carrier brought them a few weeks ago so he might not have left a note for you.

Thank you!

***

Hi,
Thanks for the notice. I didn't receive a note. I will be in tomorrow afternoon to pick them up. If you tell me they're heavy and from Seattle, you'll make my week.
Thanks,
Carman

***

They are heavy and from Seattle!

Caffeine for Blood

I must do something about the coffee situation at work. Blegh. This merely means I will have to start making and bringing in my own. Yum.

53 minutes

That's my president

I am occasionally flooded with a warm feeling, knowing that Obama is president. I realize how irrational it is. But I'm going to enjoy it. I hope things last. His approval rating and all that jazz. People just need to be patient, but I understand it's tough when you're facing foreclosure and unemployment. But even if things don't ever get better in those departments, things have a way of adjusting. People are amazingly adaptable. Of course, housing and unemployment will recover in time.

270 minutes til I can scoot.

Coraline

Like Mirromask and Nightmare Before Christmas bumped bits, which is like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie bumping bits. Perfect, adorable babies with odd, but adorable names. And John Hodgman...swoon.

I've Just Changed My Title

I'm feeling a need for a little change, but I'm in a kind of mopey mood, which makes me want an introspective and deep angle here on my public diary (Leonardo DiCaprio...swoon). Tough noogies. I know better. Two weeks after any attempt I make at public depth, I regret it. I feel squirmy and uncomfortable. Knowing this inevitable reaction, I've decided to go wacky and zany. When I was a kid, in the throws of a temper tantrum, my dad would call me Carmanasaurus. I've added the Rex because Carmanasaurus alone is kinda empty. Plus, I can refer to the itty bitty arms.

I might be about to enter my very own mid-twenties existential crisis, so I expect the name will change again.

Sorry I'm treating this like twitter,

but I've added a Blogger tab to my Google homepage and it doesn't have any formatting options, but it does allow for posting my whims. For instance, boredom makes me extremely unproductive.

and shit.

So, 7:42 am and already, I'm counting the minutes till I make my escape.

I'm a dirty rotten liar today. Ugggghhhhh.

Teenage Luuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

I've just purchased a plane ticket to visit Alana. And we're going to see Travis. All my high school giggles are bubbling up. Oh, Fran Healy. Gigglegigglegiggle. Ahhh I hope they play "Flowers in the Window." I would revert to eighteen and melt away.

And in June, Oscar and I are going to try to go to Columbus to see the Decemberists. I hope I hope.

It's been maybe two years since I've been to a concert.

I hate it when suspicions are confirmed. Even when they are so obvious that they should be conclusions.

I also hate dreams that are so perfect, they leave me wishing I could sleep the rest of my life. That's easier to deal with. The feelings of losing the perfect life to waking are fleeting. But knowing the truth of your suspicions is weirder.

Plus dreams are never solid. Like this perfect life from last night. Was just a generalization. An impression of a perfect life. All I know is it was urban and perfectly mismatched.

I've been having an inordinate amount of pregnant dreams lately (not last night, though).

Top five pointers for casual photos

Just some quick pointers for taking informal portraits of people for things like theater production programs and non-profit newsletters.

1. Don't stand people in front of a glossy or shiny wall. Your flash will reflect and suddenly it looks like God dropped in to put rabbit ears on your subject. Similarly, do not put people in front of a window if it is daytime. Mmmm backlighting=bad.

2. Give them a day's notice and suggest that they wear something in a midtone, particularly if everything is to be printed in black & white.

3. Don't stand too close to them. Even the most dry-skinned person can have a glaring nose if you're too close. However, try not to include feet. You really only need from the elbow up.

4. Try to use natural light. Then you don't have to use a flash and you're less likely to end up with blurry photos. This is especially important if you've got a big group of people. If you've got to light up eight rows of people with the flash of a point & shoot camera, the back half is gonna be too dark.

5. Know your white balance. Set it for the appropriate lighting. Or be safe and leave it on auto.

I want to work in a place that is professional. Where buddies don't barge in, leaving me standing alone with my ignored greeting while they go and chat with my boss and the other girl. Where all the clients are equal. Where promises are made but when it comes time to dole them out, there is a second interpretation and I get shafted.

I guess more important than this is I wish I had the (no ifs ands or buts, these kids got) guts to actually tell my boss that the way he stated above promise did not for one minute make me think of the second, shafting interpretation.

Workplace Pet Peaves part infinity + 1

People will come with appointments (or without) to see my boss and I'll go up the the lobby to greet them and they say they're here to see my boss and I go to buzz him to let him know, but the people just start walking upstairs to his office. How fucking rude is that to not give me pause to inform him that there's someone heading upstairs. What if he's in the can? What if he's looking at porn? What if he just doesn't want to see this person? Plus it shows no regard for what I do. Gah!

Oh Fido

I've been on a bit of a Magnetic Fields kick. "Fido, Your Leash is too Long," is pretty kick ass. It plugs into my brain stem and causes full body "wicky wicky" spasms. I drew the effect it would have on a robot. Look:























See? He's all jiggly.

What's that you say?

Top five moving pictures with plot and sound that changed the way I think and talk

1: Clueless. The cultural phenomenon that is Clueless needs very little elaboration on my part. Just watch VH1 or some Top 100 Teen movies on Bravo or A&E. But personally, I mark elapsing of time by how long ago Clueless was released (14 years ago, this July). Four days before I turned thirteen, Amy Heckerling released this beast upon my psyche. I can't identify the millions of tiny ways in which this movie affected me on the large scale, but ever since seeing it, I've always wanted to drop an entire log of cookie dough into an oven to see what would happen.

2: Wayne's World. If for no other reason than I say "ah" to emphasize random things. "A gun wrack. A gun wrack? You bought me a gun wrack. I don't even own ah gun, let alone many that would necessitate an entire wrack. What am I gonna do? With a gun wrack?" I was eight when this one came out. I didn't get half the jokes but I know laughed when my parents did. The emphasis on the ah didn't pop into my vernacular until late high school, but every time I said it, that scene goes through my head.

3: Sudden Impact. I was four months old when this came out so clearly I saw it later, on VHS–when I was three. Why my parents let me watch this movie at three, I will never know. But there are two things I remember saying over and over again. "Listen, punk!" and "Who's we sucka." My cousin Jonathan also remembers because he's told me stories of how cute, but annoying it was to have his three-year old cousin grabbing his collar, getting in close to his face, and saying "Listen, punk" every time he picked her up.

4: If I were a boy, The Big Lebowski, Star Wars, Trainspotting and anything Quentin Tarantino. I'm not a boy, however. I've never seen The Big Lebowski but I'm so sick of man-boys walking around in bathrobes drinking white russians and calling themselves The Dude.

5: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV). I can't count the things I say or the ways in which I say them that have been affected by Buffy. But it's a lot.

Wino(na) Forever!

Katie and Jason came to visit this weekend. It was lovely, though to be honest, I was stressed. I stress when people visit. Gotta clean, gotta entertain, gotta feed. Or so I think. I could have had a lot more fun if I had just relaxed and let it happen.

We went to Oliver Winery because that's what you do when people come to visit. Unless they're in AA or just don't drink. We tasted and I bought the Port, which is warm happiness in a bottle. They were having a case sale on their Valdiguié, so Oscar and I went back on Sunday to buy one. We also bought a half case of the Shiraz Reserve, which is one of my favorites. We added up the price before going so we wouldn't be surprised, but still we were. The price was a good 30% less than expected. We got out to the car and reviewed the receipt and found the problem. The cashier had only charged us for one bottle of the Valdiguié instead of one case. Oscar and I are pretty much as greedy and dishonest as the average person, so while we can admit that we really wanted to drive away with that lovely error, we went back in and corrected the mistake. The cashier was surprised and grateful. The manager gave us a free bottle of the Shiraz Reserve, which was an unnecessary, though greatly appreciated. So now, Oscar and I are set for life with wine.