Day 19: Burning down the house (not a cooking entry)

I didn't actually burn down the house. I did stink it up a little though by lighting some incense I got from my holiday in Lanzarote. I had never owned incense before, but bought it on impulse at the airport (and a few for my friends too) expressly because it was different.
I'm not entirely sure what the scent was, as I bought it primarily for the pretty color, but after about 10 minutes of it, it was no longer pleasant. So were I to use in religious ceremony, which per Wikipedia is one of its uses, I think it could clear a house of worship. However, if I were using it to cover my illicit drug use, I think it would definitely do the job.

Day 18: "I guess if it's going to happen it's going to happen to you." (Aunt Amee)

I do believe the comment left by my Aunt Amee in reference to my filing cabinet incident, does pretty much sum up about...83% of what happens in my life. The 83% representing the percentage of my life experiences that fall into the embarrassing, unbelievable, and just plain absurd category.

Like today. When I unwittingly dressed like Santa Claus. I hesitated to mark this as a new thing, but when you realize about two hours into your day that you do in fact resemble the big man in red, I think it's fair to count it as a new thing. And one that most certainly will NOT be repeated.

How does this happen, and how does one not realize it until almost at the entrance to her work?
Step 1: Find black velvet pants in closet, wear them.
Step 2: Wear black snow boots expressly to avoid anything embarrassing. (I.e. falling in slush.)
Step 3: As a finishing touch, throw on new red pea coat as running out the door.
Step 4: Look down as walking, an hour after leaving home, and reach in pocket to see if I have a naughty/nice list and elves following me, because I look like SANTA.

This is my life. But at least I always have something to smile about.

Day 17: Hey oh

I am very sad to report that cityish-life has turned me against SNOW. Snow used to fill me with such joy. Exuberance at not having to go to school, the thrill of playing in the yard and then coming into the cozy house.

But those days are gone. Replaced with slush and dirty snow and having to walk in ankle-deep muck to avoid the sidewalks, as walking on them guarantees taking a bath in streetwater thanks to drivers NOT driving for the conditions.

In order to try and get some of my enchantment with snow back, I looked up "snow" on YouTube. I spent awhile watching some college kids slide down hills and then have a massive snowball fight. Listened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers song "Snow (Hey oh)" which doesn't really have anything to do with snow, but put me in a good mood. Watched a few people make snow angels and build snowpeople.

But the video that made my heart melt a little, and made me think I'm not quite ready to write off snow completely, was a tiger eating snow and making snow angels.


I swear I will respond to comments this weekend, I'm just too exhausted tonite and can't focus. But I appreciate them all. :-)

Day 16

Sometimes coming up with new things is hard. Sometimes it gets to be 10:45 and my Tar Heels are losing and I have a headache right behind my eyes and I contemplate standing on one foot while brushing my teeth as a new thing but realize that given my tendency to stand like a flamingo, I'm sure I've already done it.

And I won't cheat only 16 days in. Instead I headed to Wikihow and calculated my age in chocolate.

1. Determine how many times a week you want chocolate, between 1 and 10: 10
2. Multiply that number by 2: 10x2=20
3. Add 5 to that number: 20+5=25
4. Multiply that number by 50: 25x50=1250
5. Add the current year: 1250+2008=3258
6. Subtract 250 if you've had a birthday this year, 251 if you have not: 3258-250=3008
7: Subtract your birth year: 3008-1984=1024
8: The last two digits should be your current age: 24!

Wow. Whoever said chocolate could not be a teaching tool was clearly wrong.

Day 15: The rest is still unwritten

First, I'm going to start responding to comments left in each entry's comments section. So if you ask me something I'll answer it there.

Click the picture to make it bigger, if necessary. Hope you can read my loopy writing.

Day 14: The hunt continues

I have a feeling that a disproportionate amount of the new things I do will be based on something I saw in a movie/tv show, or that I just think everyone else does in the movies but not real life. (But I've only been in "real life" for about a year now, so I may be way off.) Tonite I scoured the want ads and circled relevant jobs with a red pen. (I feel like the red pen is the key here.) The Post had a "mega job*" section on Sunday, so I got even more use out of yesterday's new thing. Of course, I don't know how "mega" it can be since I only found four that applied, but I guess all it takes is one.



*Yes, that's what they called it.

Day 13: Driving slow on Sunday morning, and I never want to leave

For as long as I can remember, Sunday mornings at home revolved around the newspaper. A parent here, a dog there, the contents of our two newspapers strewn across the living room. Joey laughing over "Fox Trot" until he cries. Mom and I dissecting the lifestyles sections. Daddy commenting on political this and laughing at the idiot who did that. I shouldn't be surprised that years of this ritual have left me with an intense obsession and love for the news, in all its forms, but especially in print.

But I'm not at home anymore, and newspapers cost money. But in my head I have an image of what a Sunday morning should be like for a single girl in the city. Chilling in a coffee shop, reading the paper and people watching. Or, cozy in pajamas, reading the Sunday paper in bed, with a steaming cup of tea. So I took my must-be movie-made image out of my head, and into real life today.
It was nice. Different, but nice.

Day 12: The cookie monster would be proud

No long and winded posted tonite. Just the facts.
Before:After:
I made a giant chocolate chip cookie.* And it was awesome.

*Technically, peanut butter cups, chips, and chocolate chunks cookies.

Day 11: Temporary worker to permanently dead

When all is said and done, I think I will be able to write a book on my temping experiences, and all the embarrassing mishaps that have gone along with them. Tentative title: How I was almost crushed to death by a moving file cabinet.

After one of the worst mornings of my life, involving a wrong bus, wrong stop, wrong rain, I finally got to my new temp job two hours later. The people were very nice and understanding, however, and had tons of stuff or me to do, which I prefer. One of them was filing.

We made our way to the filing cabinets, which from my desk I thought were giant speakers because of these big, black circles in the middle. Strike one. But once we got in the room, they looked just like a safe that use a wheel to open. Strike two. They are actually shelves full of files that you could move left and right to get to, thus fitting double or triple the files in a space. So today I filed in a room of moveable filing cabinets. (Picture from Google.)

I had a little too much fun moving them back and forth, delighting in trying to crash them into each other. (Which they don't do, they just move the next one along.) I liked that I could sit on the floor in between them and no one could see me. Now, I wasn't trying to flake on my work. I had worn new shoes, with the slightest heel, and my feet were killing me. I sat down for just a minute to rest the poor dears, when one of the shelves started closing in on me. Very slowly at first, but then rather quickly so I had to hop up and push it back.

My life flashed before my eyes as I could picture the headline, "Poor, jobless UNC grad crushed to death in filing room tragedy." And then all I could see was that scene from one of the Star Wars films where the heroes are almost crushed to death in a trash compactor. And I just had a feeling there was going to be no Han Solo or Chewbacca to save me. Thus today has two new things in one: filing with moveable cabinets, and almost dying because of them.

Day 10: Chef Bonnie (No, really.)

The last time I boiled an egg it took me an hour. It is not uncommon for me to have popcorn for dinner. I think chicken nuggets and honey mustard are the lost food group. And any attempt to cook anything that involves more than opening a package and throwing it in the oven, requires at least two phone calls to my mom and almost always leads to me consuming something burnt, rubbery, or under-cooked.

My sister asked for baking pans for Christmas. My brother asked for a crock pot and convection oven. I asked for a DVD player. I think that pretty much sums it up. (Though I did ask for a blender a few years ago, but that was just so I could make daiquiris.)

But I've decided that there are some "adult" things that I really must attempt to take part in. And one of those is cooking real, balanced meals for myself more often than...never. Tonite I made a healthy, balanced meal, with more than 1.5 food groups represented. And I touched raw chicken, which was indeed as vile as I imagined it to be. Big thanks to Perdue, you may torture your chickens, but at least you aren't prejudiced against single people since you now offer individually packaged, idiot-proof chicken.

Preparing the feast.
The feast. Italian-seasoned chicken, mashed potatoes, and Green Giant (microwaveable) steamed vegetables.