Survey not about James Bond

This could be my favorite survey ever - it's about music and justifying things!!

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie
7. Added by Courtney: comment on the songs, cuz that's what makes this interesting.

Opening Credits:
Edson Corderio - Ave Maria by Theivery Corporation
A decidedly techno song to open the film, my life story will be edgy and dramatic in ways that only hipsters and college kids will understand. The sampling of Ave Maria, though, gives it a wider base and a more approachable feel that even the old timers can get down with. Just like me, my life story will walk the line.
PS - I've never actually listened to this song, and I now hate it.


First Day of School:
You Raise Me Up - Josh Groban
Soaring orchestral arrangements leading into all too earnest lyrics about troubles and hope. Apparently my first day of school has me being taught by Bette Midler whose first unit is on How to Follow Up Wing Beneath My Wings With Something Even Sappier
PS - Another one I've never listened to and probably never will again. Oh my God, there's a gospel choir. Kill me now.

Falling in Love:
Remedy by Pete Murray (a rolicky good song by an earnest yet scruffy lyricist with a gift)
"And I will bring you roses big enough to brighten up your day." "You will be the sun, when you rise you start my day." "Can you be my remedy?"
Trapped in academic hell with Bette and the choir gals, I unexpectedly meet a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. He's smart and funny with an endearing, yet caustic wit. We bond over a mutual loathing of our feel-good education in soaring ballads, but quickly find that our affections go far beyond trading verbal barbs. He's not a rich kid, but he'll gladly offer his heart.

Fight Song:
Home - Marc Broussard
Ummm, when we fight, we slip into really deep octaves and demand to be taken home. And I'm always threatening to get on a "Greyhound that's Delta-bound."

Breaking Up:
All Worked Out - Semisonic
"She's got it all worked out in her mind, and you're part of the plan, and you don't have the final word."
Ohhh, this doesn't bode well for our fair couple. Apparently, I become a little overbearing. Terribly Earnest Boyfriend can't deal with my constant china pattern picking and questions about the future. We have to talk... And our talk ends with a dissidant chord.

Prom (aka one of many college shenanigans in formal dress):
All Things Keep Getting Better (Queer Eye) - Widelife
But I am not one to stay down in the dumps for too long - oh no! I am having fun! I am going to somebody's prom, and damnit if things aren't just getting better all over the place!

Life's Okay:
Drive (Live) - REM
"Hey kids, rock and roll, nobody tells you where to go." Lots of "what if" questions, all ending in "baby."
I'm becoming more secure with the uncertainty in my life and seeing it all as unending opportunity. I'm also building up quite the steely, electric guitary exterior based on prior experiences with Terribly Earnest, Can't Take It When Things Get a Little Serious and Runs Away Ex-Boyfriend.

Mental Breakdown:
Closer to Free - Bodeans
Free=break from reality, I guess. I find madness strangely liberating. I dance around my padded cell, exclaiming that everyone should try this mental instability thing out. It's great, and I've never been happier. I feel like I'm finally getting closer to my actually self. Hey, "I just wanna live like I wanna live and love like I wanna love", afterall.

Driving :
I Touch Myself - Eve6
Oh man, I'm apparently a distracted driver. I should really keep my mind on the road, but I guess that, following my recovery, I'm realizing that Terribly Earnest and Now Absent Ex-Boyfriend is also terribly missed.

Flashback:
True Dreams of Wichita (Live) - Mike Doughty
I'm either having a flashback of a show that absent boy and I went to together or this is montage of the happier times based around the line "You had it but you sold it."

Getting Back Together:
Banditos - Refreshments
"Well, it's you and me, baby, no one we can trust...Well, I got the pistol, so I'll keep the pesos...Put the sugar in the tank of the sherrif's car and slash the deputy's tires and they won't get very far when they finally get the word that there's been a hold up. Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people..."
Oh, it's us against the world again, but this time there are more felonous undertones. Present Again Boyfriend and I get back together, cross the border, and start our crime spree of love. And we go on great road trips because this is a great driving song.

(Before I play the next song, I just want to announce that I'm a little scared of what might come up. This is the most exciting survey I've ever taken!)

Wedding:
Casiotone Nation - Soul Coughing
A return to our indie rock roots - with a song that mentions "nipple clamps" no less! We declare ourselves citizens of the People's Republic of Our Love. And the DJ is playing a Casiotone keyboard. I don't know, this one is a real stretch, guys. Ok, here it is, "Yore, yore, he's a man, he's a man" - Boyfriend finally grows up and realizes that it's about time he made a commitment to something other than grand larceny.

Birth of a Child:
What Would You Say - Dave Matthews Band
"Every day has it's way of being forgotten - Mom, it's my birthday." I'm gonna be a bad mother.
-or-
"Rip away the tears
Drink a hope to happy years
And you may find
A lifetimes passed you by
What would you say
Dont drop the big one"
The birth will be hard, but we quickly turn to rejoicing our good fortune and hopes for the future. Best Husband Ever and I remember that we have one shot to get this right and before we know it, they'll be all grown up.

Final Battle: Firetruck live at Bonnaroo - Mike Doughty
With my child all grown up and Best Husband Ever and I just sitting around looking at each other, I become a volunteer firefighter so that I can drive the "FIRETRUCK...FIRETRUCK...FIRETRUCK" I battle fires and seal every investigation with one sweet chord. These fires are all apparently started by really high concert-goers still rocking out to my Birth of Child song, because really, nothing beats Under the Table and Dreaming.

Funeral Song:
School of Rock - Rockschool
My funeral rocks!!! Jack Black gone mainstream style! I assume I die fighting a fire.

End Credits:
Last Kiss - Pearl Jam
"Oh, where oh where can my baby be? The Lord took her away from me. She's gone to Heaven so I've got be good, so I can see my baby when I leave this world."
The end credits reveal that this little movie of my life was actually a memorial created by my loving husband, who was really Eddie Vedder the whole time and we didn't even know it.

So, I'm not sure I held to the spirit of the survey. I hope that you have enjoyed this thoroughly fictional account of what could happen in the upcoming movie of my life. Or you're at least considering buying the soundtrack...

Umm, in case you're having trouble at the man store...

There's an acceptable clothed model as well...

All I want for Christmas

is this...



Now I think that if all you got together on this one, it shouldn't be that hard. Please deliver as soon as possible, no reason to keep him all cooped up before Christmas.

This is a lie! I am not Toby!!

Ahh, the ever-cynical and sarcastic speechwriter. Gutsy and not afraid to speak up or clash with authority, his dry wit is amusing. But under it all he's just a big teddy bear... and the world's biggest Yankees fan.


:: Which West Wing character are you? ::

I hate the Yankees. I am CJ. Come on, my middle name is Jean.

If you're looking for me from 2/6/07-2/20/07...

I'll be in Thailand, baby!!!

Gettin' Back on the Survey Train

So Courtney listed me as someone who had to do this silly survey. I haven't done one of these things in a long, long time, and given the new and more mature audience that my blog is now attracting (read: my mom, Aunt Ann, and Scotty Barnes), I may not be able to complete the thing for fear of what the other side will learn. But here goes...

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
"...sure I'd care." Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?
Just the air to the left of the couch. Or, if I'm living in the Celebrity Paranormal Project, the long dead spectre of a tortured chambermaid who died in my apartment in the 1920s.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?
The first hour of Elf.
"First we'll make snow angels for a two hours, then we'll go ice skating, then we'll eat a whole roll of Tollhouse Cookiedough as fast as we can, and then we'll snuggle."

4. Without looking, guess what time it is.
9:36

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?
9:35

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The last half hour of Elf.
"I'm sorry I ruined your lives and crammed 11 cookies in the VCR."

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Walking from Target back to my car earlier today.

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Courtney's version of this survey.

9. What are you wearing?
My black track pants and the blue zip sweatshirt that reads "Merritt Athletic Club League Division Winner Fall 1985." It should probably be thrown out soon.

10. Did you dream last night?
I did. I dreamt that I discovered a hidden bathroom in my room inside a magical little alcove.

11. When did you last laugh?
"So, you like sugar, huh?"
"Is there sugar in syrup?"
"Yes"
"Then YES!"

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Wow, absolutely nothing. We haven't exactly gotten around to decorating the living room yet.

13. Seen anything weird lately?
Deirdre's cat chasing its tail whenever I wash dishes. Owen Wilson's nose.

14. What do you think of this quiz?
Not really worth all the typing, but better than a punch in the face.

15. What is the last film or video you saw?
The whole thing? Little Miss Sunshine - a fantastic movie.

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
I'd buy a ticket to Bangkok. Then a house, a Honda, and a Great Dane puppy.

17. Tell me something about you that I don't know.
I have a blister on the bottom of my left foot. And I have to pee.

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I'd eliminate the influence of money and business in all local, national, and international politics.

19. Do you like to dance?
I have been known to dance party on occasion.

20. Comment to George Bush:
"He's an angry elf."

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Katie

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Jack

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?
Yes.

24. What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gate?
"You've done very well for yourself, Miss Musar."

25. 4 people who must also do this quiz on THEIR blog:
No, I won't be a survey pusher.

Hope you enjoyed! Good night!

The Pre-Election Day Post

Hi everybody. Thought I'd chime in on this, the eve of many an important election across this great country. I have a lot of hope for this election day. I don't know if the tides will change and tables will turn, but I am almost positive that at the hateful TV ads will go away for another two years. I am also almost positive that either the Maryland or Virginia Senate races will end up going to court for a final resolution. Thanks to Heroes ("Save the cheerleader, save the world.") I'm having some trouble with coherency right now, so here a few randow thoughts about the democratic process:

1. This morning on the Today show, Bill O'Reilly said "War is a performance and hope is a policy." Now hold on a minute, the Republicans DO NOT get to steal the platform of optimism. The Republicans, who only know how to win votes by telling you there's something out there to be afraid of, CAN NOT try to become the party of hope. Republicans - downers, Democrats - irresponsibly idealistic. Republicans - party of no, Democrats - party of sure, but we don't know how.

2. I wrote my Political Science thesis two years ago (wow, two years ago) on the future of mandatory voting measures in the US. I spent a good bit of that paper defending a person's right to not vote. And I still do. But not voting is like not brushing your teeth. Of course you have the right not to do it, but why the hell wouldn't you want to? Educate yourself and vote, buy some tooth paste and brush away. Voting is free, too!

3. I think that the Mike Doughty song "Move On" best represents my feelings about America:
all of the words you can't say right
burn my ass with anger to no end
i love my country so much man
like an exasperating friend

yeah, i believe the war is wrong
don't believe that nations can be steered
lead the world by smarts and compassion
by example, not coercion, force and fear

down in the mouth and not half right
but i can feel the changes comin on
bloom like the flowers in bluest night
bloom like the sunlight in my song

4. And on one final note, please vote for my personal dreamboat, Martin O'Malley

Project Runway

Aka Project Suckway. Project Completely-Ignore-That-Jeffrey-While-Very-Talented-Did-Not-Produce-The-Best-Collection-way. Project Uli-Was-Robbed-way.

But that's just my opinion. And probably the opinion of at least two of the judges. I'm just sayin'...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SUSAN MUSAR!!!

She's the coolest pussy cat around!









And now, a poem....

There once was a lady named Susie,
Who some inappropriately called a floozy.
With her friends at the beach,
And an amaretto sour within reach,
She's more accurately a little boozy.

Dear John McCain,

Please stop going on television because I'm starting to become physically ill everytime I see you.

Thanks,
Lizzie
One of the ACLU members and Liberal Americans that you have so harshly turned on

Finger pricks and candy sticks

(I just realized that the dirtiest of minds might misinterpret the above title as something less than pure...shame on you.)

The world of the littlest Musar was rocked earlier this week when I was diagnosed with diabetes. After spending a few weeks peeing more often than not, wanting to drink from every water fountain, firehose, and dirty puddle I passed, and having a nagging feeling that something wasn't right, my doctor's office confirmed that things were awry. My blood sugar was 468, apparently high enough to elicit a distressing sympathy from the lab tech and an equally distressing gasp from the doctor.

I didn't react much better. This was a really hard diagnosis for me to hear. I know a lot about the disease. I know I didn't want it, that's for sure. And being rather young, rather active, and not overweight, I didn't think I had to worry about it. I don't look like a grandmother, and I don't eat like a trucker, and I'm a healthy kid, so what's up with this?

Well, I guess it's not for me to know.

In the wake of this diagnosis, I've been moving between two emotional extremes. One, the "at least" syndrome. "At least this was figured out early." "At least I know something to begin with." "At least my face isn't covered in hairy moles." (Totally unrelated to diabetes, just something I wouldn't enjoy.)

The other - total and unrelenting anger, at everyone and everything. Overweight people on the street, you better believe I'm thinking bad stuff about you. Ditto for the super fat people on TV. My as yet totally unresponsive insurance company, there isn't a lot of love for you over here.

I hope that as I get used to this new lifestyle and start to feel a little more in control, I'll go back to being a good person.

Damnit, Justin Timberlake

I was gonna bring Sexy Back!

(I'm sorry, but that runs through my head everytime I hear that song.)

My Social Experiment

People of the Metro, people of the sidewalks, people of the public places - BEWARE!! I've got a plan to get things moving in DC.

There's an epidemic in this city, it's the people who exit a train or a building and just ... stop. They stop moving. They group together. They turn around to see what's behind them. They wait for people behind them. They just stop. And, trust me, I understand the need to make temporary stops while walking around, my mom is a notoriously slow walker and, unless I wanted to end up three blocks ahead of her, I would have to stop to let her catch up.

But what the DC stoppers don't realize is that you have to step to the side in order to appropriately stop walking in a busy place. This means moving to the side of the platform or sidewalk. Don't go through the Metro turnstile and just hang out. Don't step off the escalator, only to glue your feet to the now stationary floor. The floor doesn't work the same way as the escalator, you have to be a little more proactive with the floor, aka you have to WALK.

When people demonstrate any of the actions above, catastrophies result. Crash, bang, boom, accidents abound. It's not pretty, especially during rush hour on the Metro (which is actually about three hours in the morning and afternoon and evening, it's hard to find a time that isn't rush hour on the metro). All this willy-nilly stopping can be downright dangerous.

So here is my plan - I'm going to stop avoiding the stoppers. No longer will I stop short or quickly jump to the side to avoid a hall, platform, or sidewalk tumor. Oh no, I will continue on my path, I will walk right smack into you. I will not hesitate nor deviate from my already set trajectory, I will take you down. Well, not really, I won't try to hurt you, but trust me, you're gonna know when I knock into your stupidly stationary person. And I will not apologize, if anything, the only "I'm sorry" you're gonna hear is "I'm sorry, you were blocking the way."

I think that after a few weeks or months of this, my plan will develop into a thing, an urban myth, or something like that. The Post will run stories of the "Metro Manhandler" (oooh, terrible headline nickname, but I can't think of anything catchier right now). "Reports of subway altercations and assaults are increasing as it appears someone is walking around smacking into people. Events never escalate to violence, but patrons are left quite shocked as the unknown assailant admonishes them for clogging the sidewalk and then takes their leave. Indeed affected passengers and pedestrians have been so impacted by these episodes that they have vowed to observe the rules of public transportation and just keep walking while they are in the main travelway. Though the Washington Post does not condone violence in any way, we applaud this innovative and effective new approach to keeping DC moving."

Sure, I'll have to endure some bumps and bruises along the way, but I see great things coming from this plan. Great, great things.

Pirates?

Am I really watching a story on the resurgance of pirates on the Today show? Is that a man in Pennsylvania saying that he actually is a pirate? Is there nothing else going on in America today? And when did Volvo become the vehicle choice of pirates? Pirates aren't concerned with safety, they was unadulterated speed. The Black Pearl didn't come with anti-lock brakes and side airbags, man.

I don't want to go to work today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATIE MUSAR

She's the best sister ever!!!

Hey, did someone remember to grab the pair of unicorns?

We've got a little 40 days and 40 nights action going on the DC metro area right now. I believe they are estimating about 300 inches of rain have fallen over the last 3 days. And it's not supposed to stop. All week is rain, rain, rain.

As a result and in true wrath of God style, we've got major flooding. A few things to note:
1. DON'T DRIVE THROUGH STANDING WATER. What is with you silly people who think that your Corolla can totally handle driving through that pond? It can't. It's gonna stall and then, when it's sitting their dead and immobile, the water will start moving. And as anyone who has taken Driver's Ed knows, it only takes 6 inches of water to move your car. So then you have to climb on top of the car, begging to be rescued from your perilous fate. All because you were impatient and wanted to drive through the big puddle. Resist the urge, drive around.

2. DON'T TRY TO DRIVE THROUGH FLOODED TUNNELS.
Facts:
- DC is built on a swamp. The ground is pretty soggy as it is and can't hold much more water.
- DC has a lot of rivers around it. Beyond being really dirty, they are also filled with a lot of water.
- DC has a lot of tunnels. True to tunnel form, they are underground.

So all of this water that's falling from the sun, it needs to go somewhere. Probably on the roads, right? And water tends to gather at the lowest point possible, right? So all the tunnels are flooded. FLOODED. Don't try to drive through them. It will end badly.

3. In this most recent plague of water, I'm just wondering who exactly God is trying to kill off this time? Interesting thought, huh? If you haven't checked it out yet, you should go read the "Blogging the Bible" feature on Slate.com. It's very amusing and educational. I personally think that this go-round of flood waters is aimed on Congress.

Time to grab my washtub and paddle, I gotta go to work! I wonder if my spanish class will still start tonight....

The "I Hate Moving" Post

I hate it!! Hate it hate it hate it. Hate it in the kind of way that they told me not to in Sunday School when I was little. The packing and the categorizing, it's too much. I can't look at a fully lived in room and see it neatly packed into boxes. I can't see all of those boxes on the ground and then see them magically arranged in my car in the perfect configuartion. I think "moving" and all I see is a big, treacherous mountain. An unsurmountable....mountain.

And now a list:
My top 10 least favorite things about moving
10. My propensity to create piles.
Instead of moving, I seem to herd things. They don't leave the room, they just leave the place in the room where they were before. Very ineffective
(Note to Courtney - was going to write v. ineffective, but realized that people other than you now read my blog and they might be confused. Have probably underestimated the intelligence of these people, though.)
9. My fight or flight response when moving? If I don't think I'm going to use it in the next two weeks, I'm going to throw it out.
Makes perfect sense at the time, until it's a month later and I need my hair dryer, a bottle of lens solution, and that book I never finished reading.
8. The multiple day move
This type of moving is a big old tease. I get all prepared to pack and sort and toss, but then the three days that I have to do so start looking like an eternity, and why move when I can read a book, and who cares if that book should be packed in a box somewhere - let's go ride bikes!
7. Boxes
I hate them. I pack them too full and then I can't lift them. Then I have to unpack them, which just feels like defeat.
6. Your reward for successfully packing and moving all your stuff?
Unpacking it all. I cannot think of a more disheartening process. It's like writing a novel and then deleting it letter by letter.
5. My bed without sheets makes me sad.
4. Hangers.
I have yet to find a sane way to move hangers. I try to move them all orderly like. I try to keep them facing the same way. But it never works, and they always poke through the bag, get all tangled up, and scratch my leg while I'm carrying ten other things.
3. Unhanging, folding, packing, unfolding, re-hanging all of my clothes
Again, the doing and undoing action is not ying and yang to me, it's just painful.
2. Speaking of Yang
Bonnie has my Grey's Anatomy Season One, leaving me with little to entertain myself with while I pack. West Wing will suffice, but GA's absence is profound.
1. I don't know where I packed my clean underwear.
I see where my dirty laundry is, but have no idea what has become of the top drawer of my dresser. Now, I have to do laundry, which will create more to be folded and packed. Damn you, irony, damn you!!!

My fate is sealed, I move in just under 9 hours from now. Half of my room is packed, my stripped bed is covered in the stuff that I haven't packed (but have masterfully sorted into one big pile), and I am probably going to be sleeping on the floor in the living room, because there isn't the floor space in my room.

It'll be worth it in two weeks when I'm all unpacked, but until then, moving sucks.

Quick update to let you know I'm still alive.

See, I am. Though, you can't see me, you'll just have to trust that I am in fact, still about.

I'm passing a few minutes in my sister's swanky apartment before I head back home. I gotta pack up my stuff before going to the train station. Trains....the preferred mode of travel when the other option is the bus.

Does anyone else think that the Julie Bowen Nutrogena self tanner commercial looks like she's been rolling around in mud? I do.

Sorry, this is really all I can muster right now. I have a lot of lying ahead of me in the two days - packing my apartment up, moving my apartment to my new apartment, GOING TO IKEA FOR THE BEST SALE OF THE YEAR, unpacking my apartment, etc. It's a lot to think about. Perhaps I will take pictures to share with everyone.

Speaking of pictures, there's this beautiful place called Lake Tahoe, everyone should go there. Pictures don't do it justice.

Off to explore the Ikea website for a minute!

When left without supervision for too long

My Puritan work ethic degrades into this -


My relaxed posture and causal attitude towards footwear should not be taken as indication that I am not doing my job. Oh no - that is my expense report that you seen on the screen before you. I think. I mean, there should also be receipts in front of me if I'm doing my expense report, and I remember them being there, they just didn't make it into the picture. But I am definitely doing WORK! You don't see Snood on that monitor.

A brief orientation to my cubicle for those of you who have never had the pleasure before. On the far wall you will see part of my Belizian parrot Pride poster. I ganked this from HR Kristin just so that I would have a little piece of Heather Kirkwood with me always. There are too many coffee cups in the picture, this is because I stockpile them until I actually HAVE to wash them. My self-imposed limit is three. The purple Nalgene bottle was a gift from my dear sister Katie Musar. It originally came filled with candy that was very difficult to get out. Now it gets filled up with water at least twice a day and, as a result, becomes my main contributor to inefficiency as I have to leave my desk every 30 minutes to pee.

All those papers in the trays to my left - we try not to think about those. Ditto the papers in front of the trays. The big black leather chair is the most recent addition to my cube and also the cause of my new attitude towards professionalism. Its days are numbered, but what wonderful days they have been.

You will also hopefully notice the very high wildlife contingent in my little "office." On the monitor you will see part of a carved wooden rhino, and though the picture does not show this, she is leading two baby rhinos as they make their epic trek across the wilds of my desk. We've already noted the Belize poster, but there is another that is not pictured. This one is a very early pre-Pride poster for saving the snow leopard, it makes me think of my mom. There is my little turtle made of shells that Maureen brought me back from Palau, and my very cool bumper sticker from the African Wildlife Foundation that says "Tusk Tusk, Poor Elephants." The flowers on top of the cabinet are fake...I'm not good with plants.

This was all brought to you by Heather "Too Good for Accounting" Murphy, a faithful reader and friend of the Elizabeth/Lizzie Musar blog. We were very lucky to catch her on film during a recent visit to my cube...she can be very elusive...

The Allergy Blues

Blog readers, meet my mortal enemy - pollen. Tonight, as I sit in bed unable to sleep and unable to breathe, I am reminded yet again that nature blows.

Further evidence of my extreme narcissism - I chose this picture because the shape of the molecular structure reminds me of my hair. It's twisty spirals in some parts and straightaway waves in others. Incidently, the structure of insulin is very similar and also resembles my hair, as I announced loudly to my Women in Science classmates junior year. Ironic, talking about hair in a class about women breaking into a male-dominated field. Sadly, my experience in the class was dominated by mindless note-taking and the urge to end my suffering with my own pen.

Anyway, I'm sick. I've got the snot and the sneezes and the sore throat. And I am not a good sick person. I wallow. I complain and seek sympathy. And I don't take drugs because I'm concerned that one day, when I really need them, they won't work in my system anymore. So instead, I look a little more pathetic, cough a little louder, and hope someone will make me a cup of tea.

Right now, I would settle for chapstick and sleep, though.

And now, a haiku:
A violent wave breaks
the serene exterior
Don't sneeze in public!!

Oooh, I'm getting my hair chopped off on Sunday! Good bye pollen hair, you bring back too many painful memories...

Funniest thing I've seen all day

Though it is only 7:45am, and my day has so far been dominated by the shower and the Today show...

I'd like to say that I've been in Spain for these many days

But that would be a lie. I've just been a very delinquent poster.

My trip to Spain was wonderful - if you'd like to hear stories, please just ask. Here are a few pictures for us to remember my future home by.

In case you're looking for me

I'LL BE IN SPAIN FOR THE NEXT 10 DAYS!!!!

Adios!!

Sometimes you don't need Quizilla

I am a Meredith. Or at least I was, or have been. I fell into that horrible role (that no one enjoys, btw) of the bad best friend. The best friend who was supposed to remain lucid and caring while their counterpart was allowed to go on their rollercoaster of emotions. The best friend who thought that maybe getting on for one ride couldn't hurt, and wouldn't it be great for everyone if it turned into more. The best friend who was so enticed by the mere description of what to expect, that guards were let down, and not good things resulted.

Only bad people would enjoy this position. Or the reality of this position, I should say. Only bad people would want to hurt their friends for their own gain, even if that gain is just to feel a little better. For everyone else, the offer of unconditional love, of acceptance even when you weren't trying to be accepted, can be a whole lot to turn down. It can be too much to turn down. And that offer can cloud your judgment, it can make you hope for what isn't there, just as the other person is doing.

So it ends up just sucking for everyone. No one is happy, everyone's either been hurt by someone or by their own actions. Blame is getting thrown around and there isn't much in the way of explanation, because no one can really explain. "I just wanted to see" is pretty damn callous, "I wanted to at the time" is equally awful. "It just didn't work" is the only reasonable respone, but by no means an explanation or an answer.

Is Meredith a bad person? I don't think so. The random bar boys were not her attempt to control men or hurt men, she just needed some attention. SHE IS NOT TRYING TO HURT GEORGE. She is going to hurt him, and hopefully that will tear her up inside as some tiny form of penance, but I honestly feel, in the bottom of my Grey's Anatomy loving heart, that she heard George's declaration and fell in love with the sound of it. She became attracted to the way that he made her feel, but not really to him. The former can be just as hard to ignore, though, and we should all remember that.

In other news, I realized today that I'm completely afraid of the military. What with working next to the Pentagon, living next to the nation's capital, and constantly bumping in to these uniform clad, mission-driven, possibly brainwashed hoards people who are FAR stronger than me, I am more than slightly skittish around them. Cammos freak me out more than dress uniforms. Women more than men because I feel like they are better undercover than the men. I'm not wholly convinced that they aren't all a separate alien race, domesticated by Republicans into projected a false picture of security while all the time monitoring and recording every human movement on Earth. I'm not wholly convinced that these GIANT groups of armed people saying the same thing at the same time are really there for my benefit. It's not the agenda of the administration that scares me (though it certainly does), it's the mindset of this mass of people. They do what they are told. That can't be good.

Peace out, kids, I can't take this post anymore. Thanks if you stuck through it all.

A few thoughts before bed...

1. Story number one on the evening news - Dick Chaney accidentally shoots his friend in the face while hunting. That's right - guns don't kill people, Dick Chaney kills people. But we all knew that already. There isn't even irony here, just a sick, sick undeniable truth that HE SHOT SOMEONE. And the quail got away anyway. I say good for quail. As for the poor, millionaire lawyer who got shot in the face, that's what happens when you fraternize with Republicans.

2. Only ONE meterologist is necessary for each network newscast. Really, the whole "weather team on the street" is just a waste of bored camera men and airtime. Maybe, had the entire eastern seaboard's investigative journalism force not been so wrapped up in Snowy February 2006, we would have known that THE VICE PRESIDENT HAD SHOT SOMEONE a little sooner. Also, do you think that it's good for Weatherman #4's only job to be going outside in the parking lot and sticking a ruler in the snow. This can't be good for his self-esteem.

3. They blew up Early Edition! I watched him get BLOWN UP and Meredith got all of his pink mist on her. I should have known when they brought up the whole pink mist thing to begin with, my fault. The show was fantastic except for the fact that it's a giant tease. Actually, it's worse than tease, but I can't use that word here because my mom reads my blog :). All that build up, all that emotion, and then he comes over to tell her that he's glad she didn't die, and that her hair smelled like flowers. Seriously? Cause that's not cutting it. I needed some sustained meaningful eye-contact. Something!

And now I'm going to bed, where I may dream about bomb squads, unfulfilling relationships, and George cradling a very pregnant Dr. Bailey as she yelled at him for checking out her coochie-snoorcher.

G'night!

Military musings

You may have heard about this movie Annapolis. It's a pretty, little dramatization of life at the Naval Academy in, wait for it, Annapolis, MD. I admit, I have not yet seen this movie, I don't even think that it's out yet. But the ad got me thinking...

Military academies are an interesting blend of two very opposite worlds. On one hand, a military training base. Discipline, obedience, rank, and order at paramount to the success of this base. Men and women are brought together, brokendown, and built back up as the ideal soldier. Those who do not conform to the ideal are made to feel their inadequacy. It's a society built on doing exactly what you are told, doing it better than the guy next to you, and rising to rank where you can then issue the orders. Sounds a lot like the modern business environment of ass-kissing and promotion, but the key difference is that ingenuity and initiative to make the old way better is rewarded in the business world, whereas it's angrily dismissed in the military world. The status quo is the order of every day. And it appears pretty damn efficient. Someone gets told to do something, they do it, and it's done. Except when Congress gets involved, then things just get all mucked up.

On the flipside of the military academy experience - the university model. Students of the military academies are just that, students. They take courses in math, science, public policy, and the liberal arts. In this college system, students are taught to challenge that which they are told, to form their own opinions, and defend them loudly for the sake of good argument. Obviously, as a graduate of this system, I'm more familiar with it than the military model. For the most part in these schools, non-military classes are taught by civilian professors.

So here's the thing - does one compliment the other? They seem at odds with each other. Does the student know when to turn one instinct on and the other one off? If one takes a stronger hold in the student, how does that affect the other aspect? Does a really great soldier need to know how to analyze Chaucer, and does a really great literary mind need to know how to take or give an order? Is a military education meant to foster the independent thinking soldier, or just a more civilized soldier? Are the officers produced that much better? What's the benefit of a well-rounded soldier when all their country needs them to do is fire where told, secure hills where told, and investigate threats where told?

Of course, there's the little problem of military leadership. When you're in a system that relies on obedience to rise through the ranks, at what level does the "Respond with own thought now" instinct come back to the soldier? Is it when the lives of others are put in their hands? Does the study of political theory help with this responsibility? I've studied a ridiculous amount of political theory, and none of it could tell me how to place someone else's life on the line. Maybe I didn't play close enough attention.

I've a few academy guys who are, for the most part, the independent thinking guys. I think this was a bit of a disadvantage for them. They question everything and I think have found the academy life that much more difficult. I've known one rank and file, recruiting poster soldier, he's done very well and has nothing but contempt for those troublesome thinkers in his class. He also has nothing good to say about the liberal arts classed he's forced to take as part of his well rounded military education.

I've know one academy girl, but she was kicked out for not portraying the "morals of a modern soldier." She was kind of a slut and that was against the rules, so off she went.

It's a life that I'll probably never understand (military academies, not slut-hood. Not that I claim any real expertise in that area either.), and one I don't think I'd be welcomed into either. "Why" is just too engrained in my vocabulary, I think.

Sidenote - these very dedicated people defend my sorry, skeptical butt every day. So thank you.

Update

Welcome to the World, Slimer II

Stupid classical music station, not playing Kelly Clarkson ever. You still suck.

The Karmic 1 - 2 Punch

First, a run of particularly bad luck...
1. My beloved apple green iPod mini, Slimer, has happened upon a bump in his short life. He finds himself unable to hold a full battery charge. He tries and he tries and he tries, but all he can muster is a mere 30 or so minutes before the battery icon of death comes on and Slimer slips into a quiet coma. Compared to his promised 18 hours of battery life, this is a bit disappointing.

After a long talk with the Apple "genius" at the Clarendon store, Slimer is currently being held for testing. I can't say what unspeakable things they will do to him, but I have been told that I will almost certainly be receiving a new iPod as a replacement for my poor broken Slimer shell. I'm not sure how I feel about this turn of events. I love my Slimer, I'm getting used to the idea of Slimer II.

2. Z104, Washington's modern music radio station, has flipped to a classical format. My favorite radio station, my standby, crappy pop music, as comfy as an old pair of jeans, Kelly Clarkson at least 40% of the day radio station is gone. GONE!! Faithful readers of my blog/fans of my life will remember that this is not the first time I have been so betrayed by the radio - last year, radio station of my youth and angsty identity, 99.1 WHFS, was tragically flipped to an entirely Spanish language format. To add insult to injury, one of my favorite songs was the last HFS song to be played before the El Zol craziness began. This latest betrayal did not hurt any less. Z104 was my favvorite, it played everything I would if I owned a radio station, and that is not something that I am particularly proud of, but the loss still hurts.

One of the reasons that I'm so distraught over this is because of the manner in which radio stations are flipped. These transitions are often abrupt and unannounced. Until 11:59 am, everything is the same as it was. Then at 12pm, the station goes quiet and returns with a totally new format. It sucks! It's jarring and disrespectful to the faithful listeners of a radio station. It's disrespectful to the employees of a radio station, especially the on air talent, who frequently are not informed that they will be losing their jobs until the day of the switch. Station flipping treats a station, the audience, and the personalities as disposable commodities, and in a medium as personal as music, that's pretty rude. The mega-radio corporataions - Clear Channel and Infinity - are businessmen of the worst kind; they've forgetten that they rely on their customer and staff for everything that they have. They see only the bottom line of their own profits.

Perhaps this is my "evils of capitalism" speech. It is a classic tale of profits over people. Perhaps I only care because I'm personally affected. Perhaps I really don't want to pay for satellite radio. Regardless, it's a crappy situation that wasn't communicated well and has definitely left a little void in my life.

The karmic portion of this tale of woe - I think this is all a bit of payback for my days as an illegal downloader. I stole music, I'm sorry. But it was all bad music that no one really wanted. It was probably stuff that iTunes would give away for free anyway. We're talking old Ryan Adams and Aqua, "Barbie Girl." But that doesn't matter. I still broke the rules, I took something that wasn't mine simply because it was easy and saved me some cash. And now I'm being punished by the universe. My lifeblood, good music to singalong to in the car, is being drained from me and there's little that I can do. I'm certainly open to ideas from the public on acceptable pennance to end this streak. Or maybe another radio station to program into preset 1.