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.

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

So goes an incredible song written by Leonard Cohen and successfully covered by many, many others, but none so well as Jeff Buckley. This is a song that I feel very close to for some reason that I can't quite explain. The lyrics are beautiful, but I'm sure that it's Buckley's voice that continues to draw me in. His vocals have the ability to keep me hooked through all 7 minutes of the song, even when I've lost the ability to sing along. The lyrics are just esoteric and intellectual enough to make me feel smart for catching, and are grounded in enough real life heartbreak and uncertainty to keep me invested. The meaning of their words has been debated by many - some say Cohen was writing a tale of love from the Bible, others say it's an allegory of alienation. I will never know. I don't even care to venture a guess. This song makes me glad that it was written. It makes me glad that so many have stumbled upon it, and that I could be one of them. At different points in my life, I have identified with different sections. But I've always listened to the whole thing. It will always stand out to me as one of those perfect songs. They rarely come by, so I'll hold on to this one. As well as "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley, also a great song.

Brief sidenote - as a testament to the far-reaching love of this song, it's been featured in at least three end of episode, important-reflective-things-happening-now montages on very good TV shows, most notably "House" and "West Wing." The WW usage actually had me in tears, big, blubbery (OK I also had the flu) tears. I don't know why it's the underground touchstone of a few generations, but I think there's more going on in this song than we hear on the surface.

I heard there was a secret chord
That david played and it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music, do you
Well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ....

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah .... .

Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and i've walked this floor
I used to live alone before i knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
But love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ....

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

Well, maybe there's a god above
But all i've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
It's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah ....

The genius of the McKim Yates

Picasso painted
our last fling. But this time I
want Georgia O’ Keefe.

~ Courtney McKim Yates

Far too cold to go to work today

Is this a legitimate excuse for skipping work? It's literally painful to go outside today. My hair is wet and will probably stay wet for the next few hours. If I were still in school, I'd probably skip class. There is no good reason to subject oneself to such pain.

I wish I could staple things to Katie Couric's face. "I am a waste of space and airtime." "Have you seen some of my turly horrendous haircuts?" "What - you don't enjoy my opinion on every story I present?" She is doing wonderful things for colon cancer, though.

Need to get dressed. Again, no desire to move. Would prefer to sit here forever, dropping the subjects out of all of my sentences.

In slightly happier news, I can now complete a whole sodoku puzzle by myself! I find that sodoku is a lot like life - if you stick with it and have someone subtly pointing out your mistakes, you'll eventually prevail.

I'll leave you with that.

Agoraphobia or simple anger?

If you have ever had the joy of going out in public with me, especially a public plagued by large crowds, I'm sure you will attest to the fact that I become a little skittish around all of the people. Skittish isn't exactly the word, actually. Uncontrollably rage filled, that's probably more accurate.

I don't know why, but I hate all of the people. I don't like crowds, especially because they all gather directly in front of me. And then they mossie along, enjoying the sights. We all have a mission in life, people, and you're slowing me down!! If I'm shopping, my mission is stop shopping as soon as possible. Please get out of my way. A sidewalk or hallway is not an appriopriate place to stop and hang out with your friends or your children or your skeevy boyfriend/girlfriend. The mall is a place with a purpose, not aimless gathering. You are hall tumors, a plague on all of society.

I know that I am not special. Just because I want to walk faster than everyone else doesn't mean that they should all bow down to my whims. But it does make good fiscal sense that the stores of the mall should work to keep the crowds moving along. Just like with the moving sidewalk at the airport which gets people point A to point B faster, holiday shoppers should be shuffled along these congested mall walkways. Much like the bullet train attendants of Japan's overcrowded commuter systems, malls could hire armies to keep the crowds moving. This would serve the stores' purposes by ensuring that the maximum amount of eager shoppers would pass by their windows. The malls wouldn't have to worry about creating more parking spaces because people wouldn't be wasting time taking up spaces. Everyone would be happier and probably spend more money, helping the economy. It's really a fantastic solution. I think I need to take this idea somewhere.

Excessive you say?

That's our Christmas tree. And that's Brendan for reference. Our Christmas tree is absolutely gigantic. The spirit of Christmas is alive and well within Apt. 2401 - and it's threatening to overtake anything that gets too close.

There are big plans for this tree - lights, popcorn, and come January 5th, a trip off our fourth floor balcony cause there is no way that sucker is going back down the elevator.

Dear Mom,

I love you very much. Please do not read the post below.

Love,
Lizzie

"Good for you"

- What Tad Hamilton, Hollywood movie star, says to innocent little Rosalie after she rejects his advances and tells him that she should be getting home rather than stay with him at his place prior to wedding, second date, or even second base.

I hate this. I hate it when boys act all superior and knowing after a girl makes the smart move and doesn't hook up with them. To stay with him would be against her better judgement, so she says "I/you should leave." AND HE TAKES CREDIT FOR THE GOOD DECISION/PRETENDS TO VALIDATE HER GOOD DECISION/MAKES BELIEVE THAT HE KNEW SEPARATION WOULD BE THE SMART AND IDEAL OPTION. He didn't!!! Oh, no, he got shut down. He was rejected. But with his "Good for you, xxxx" he becomes the all-knowing dominate male, still issuing validation and approval on a woman who JUST REJECTED HIM.

I'm sorry, I have experience with this. How dare you undercut the power that I showed by making the mature, adult choice by telling me that it's ok??? I don't need your approval, I already got it when you invited yourself into my pants. Your only job now is to be hurt. To be hurt and realize that I am better than you.

Were you trying to take advantage of me with the initial advances, is that why you were so impressed when I rebuffed them? Did you think that I was some weak-willed, easily controlled little girl who you could have your way with? Surprised that it wasn't as easy as you thought?

WELL DON'T MAKE YOURSELF FEEL ANY BETTER BY CLAIMING MY VICTORY. I TURNED YOU DOWN, I SHOWED SOME COURAGE, I MADE THE SMART DECISION, IT WAS ME NOT YOU. YOUR ONLY ROLE IN THIS LITTLE SCENE WAS TO BE THE REJECTED ONE.

DON'T THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO STEAL MY THUNDER!!!!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

I've been a bad, bad blogger. I am still alive. I am still here. Nothing really new to report.

I got all my hair chopped off in the cutest way. Go to the myspace page to see - http://www.myspace.com/5153145, alas I don't think I have the picture on my computer.

That's really about it. I'm up to my eyes in work I don't really want to do, so I'm gonna get to that. Good bye all, I promise more later if you will still have me.

Side note: This entry's headline reminds me of the abusive relationship game that Courtney and I used to play. Perhaps we are a little to irreverant for our own good....