MadMup.com

My one sorta-resolution this year was to learn to type correctly.

I didn't do it.

I'm not much for self-betterment, as those who know me best would be quick to tell you. My lack of motivation coupled with my insurmountable laziness combine to make me a prize catch in the Never Going To Amount To Much State Tournament.

This year I've decided to make resolutions I know I can keep. At the end of the year, I'll be able to look back on this list with pride, knowing I accomplished what I set out to do.

Without further ado, here's the list!

• gain at least five pounds (bonus points for more than five pounds)
• waste golden opportunities
• increase my movie-watching by at least one movie per week
• barely skate by on things that are important
• use attempts at humor to mask my true thoughts
• increase my reliance on looking at the keyboard while I type (take that, Mavis Beacon!)
• offend at least 33% more people this year than last
• shake off attempts to help me using the magical phrase "I'm fine"

I should be able to get to all of that in a year, don't you think?

I wish you the best in your goal-attainment procedures this year. Take one week at a time and you'll do fine.

Happy New Year, readers.
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My day started off strange and got stranger as it wore on.

First, my bread-making worked! I awoke to the smell of freshly-baked bread. Next time I shall choose the "light" crust rather than "medium," as medium was a bit too tough. Spread enough apple butter on it, though, and you hardly notice it. Weird, though, since I actually made bread successfully.

The rest of the day wasn't really all that strange, I guess, until I went to the mall. Specifically, I went to Hot Topic. You may or may not remember my previous experience with Hot Topic, but today I actually bought something from there. The quite-pierced staff was very friendly, though the atmosphere could be best described as "ominous." Since Hot Topic is the only place I know to buy a Sonic the Hedgehog T-shirt, though, I braved it. I feared the credit card reader would somehow know I wasn't "goth" or "hip" or "young" and would reject my payment, but it all went very smoothly and I was able to get my (too expensive) Sonic the Hedgehog shirt. I was also quite surprised that there wasn't a mandatory piercing or tattoo with every purchase, but I was somewhat grateful. I need a pierced eyebrow like I need....well, another hole in my head.

After that, there was really only one thing to do: go to Barnes & Noble, get a hot chocolate, and read "Ultimate Spider-Man Vol. 1: Power and Responsibility" for about two hours.

Then I came home and watched Ella Enchanted.

It all balances out.
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So I messed up my first attempt at making bread. Who does this? Who can mess up making something in a machine specifically designed to make the thing?

Me, that's who.

Turns out I poured the water in and added the bread mix and then realized I hadn't put the paddle on first. That's the thing that kneads the dough and it's kind of important. I tried to pour the stuff out to put the paddle on, but it was all clumpy already, so I ended up throwing it out.

*le sigh*

So I've got another batch all set up and ready. If all goes well, I should be waking up to the smell of freshly made bread. Yeah, I doubt it, too. We'll see what happens.
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A friend of mine and I went to a movie last night that didn't get out until midnight. Afterwards, he headed home and I ... well, I was wide awake. I headed to Wal-Mart. While I feel a certain amount of sympathy for the folks who have to work the overnight shifts, I think it's wonderful that I can wander around Wal-Mart any time of the day or night.

I really only see one problem with it. Jerry Seinfeld has a bit about late-night TV watching and how the later it gets, the more sense the infomercials make. "It's 3 in the morning, and I'm starting to think maybe I could use a knife that can cut through shoes." I think the same rule applies to late-night wandering around Wal-Mart, and I can prove it:

I bought a breadmaker at 1:00 this morning.

I've been informed that a breadmaker is one of those things that even people who enjoy cooking and making things use for a few months and then never touch again. I know it's true - I've seen it happen. But I'm walking through Wal-Mart with a few DVDs and a bag of Dove dark chocolates in my hands and I come across this relatively cheap breadmaker - one third the cost of breadmakers a few years ago! - and I start imagining the smell of bread baking and having apple butter on newly-baked bread and about how easy it is to make bread in a breadmaker, and I fold faster than Superman on laundry day.

Of course, now I'm looking at this box after getting some sleep and I'm thinking, "What kind of weird purchase is this?!" It's like I'm grasping at straws to spend money now! Next I'll be buying a fur-lined sink, or something.

You know what did it for me? I looked at a box of bread mix, fully expecting to see that I'd need to add eggs and that would be terribly inconvenient because I don't keep eggs around. Upon finding eggs were not required, I was so excited I couldn't not buy the thing.

I'm starting with gourmet white bread. If it goes well, maybe I'll move on to something fancier, and pretty soon all anyone will ever receive from as gifts are loaves of homemade bread.

That is, anyone who has a birthday in the next few months.

Labels: Seinfeld

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I ventured out today and was immediately sorry.

You get warned about the pre-Christmas shopping, and you actually just build up a natural response: pre-Christmas shopping = awful/don't go out/stay home. But the days immediately following are just as bad, I think.

I've spent the majority of the last few days playing through a Star Wars RPG (role-playing game, in case you needed to know), and it was great, but now I'm without a game to play. It's semi-amusing to watch the cats interact, but the hissing and growling gets old after a while, and now I wish they'd just get along.

So... back to the couch, I guess.

Labels: Christmas

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Luke 2:1-20 (NASB)

1 Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth.
2 This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.
3 And everyone was on his way to register for the census, each to his own city.
4 Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David,
5 in order to register along with Mary, who was engaged to him, and was with child.
6 While they were there, the days were completed for her to give birth.
7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8 In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night.
9 And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened.
10 But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people;
11 for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
12 "This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
13 And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
14 "Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased."
15 When the angels had gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds began saying to one another, "Let us go straight to Bethlehem then, and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us."
16 So they came in a hurry and found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as He lay in the manger.
17 When they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this Child.
18 And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds.
19 But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.
20 The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen, just as had been told them.

Labels: Christmas

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When I was in elementary school, my teachers had alphabet cards posted above the blackboard in front of the room. Along with the capital and small versions of the letter, there was also a picture of something that either started with that letter or made a noise that sounded like that letter. For some reason I particularly remember that there was a picture of a motorboat for the letter "n." (I probably remember that one because I got in trouble once for making the "nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn" noise as I went back to my chair from the front of the classroom.

Anyway, I think it was an "f" that they had a picture of a hissing cat. "Fffffffffffffffffffffff" being the noise they're supposed to be making, of course. I'm here to tell you that the company that made those cards was misinformed. The hissing of a cat is more like a prolonged angry "h" sound. It should also be accompanied by bad breath. If there's a letter that sounds like the unholy growling of creatures born from pain and made of fire, they could also use a picture of a growling cat. I should know: I've been hearing it non-stop since about 10 minutes after I made that last post.

I'm so disappointed in Dala and Nutmeg. Well, Dala anyway. I expect Nutmeg to be a jerk, after all. Princeton just wants to play and have friends, but the other two will not hear of it. They now hiss when they see him even a room away.

*le sigh*

It's going to be a long 10 days...
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We have a visitor.

For the next 9-10 days, I am watching a friend's cat. His (the cat, not the friend) name is Princeton, and he's happy-go-lucky. He's often referred to as "stupidly optimistic."

I decided it would be better for Princeton to come and stay here rather than me visiting him for a few minutes every day. This way he has constant company and won't get lonely.

He just got dropped off a little while ago, and the introductions went much better than I expected. Nutmeg's being hissy, but Dala's being inquisitive and only slightly hissed once. Princeton's taking it all in stride.

I'll try to get a picture of the three of them together, but we'll see how it goes. 0 comments

There will be nothing about white Ford Broncos in this post, aside from this first sentence.

It's my last day at my elementary school today, and it's also the last day the teachers have to be here. As is their wont, they brought in some breakfast-y type things. I went down to the teacher's lounge and got some egg and sausage casserole-type thing, a muffin, and a styrofoam cup of orange juice. It was a little too much to hang on to and open the door at the same time, so I set the juice down on an end table, opened the door, and then grabbed the OJ...sorta. What actually happened is that I knocked the OJ over and it spilled all across the end table, onto the wall, and into the carpet. Bah. I learned rather quickly that paper towels aren't as absorbent as you might like them to be. Napkins, however, do quite nicely, but only in large handfuls.

So I refilled the cup, emptying the OJ container in the process, and headed back to my office. I set the OJ down, ate some casserole, and reached for the OJ... and knocked it over again. There wasn't as much this time, so it wasn't as messy, but it was still a pain to clean up.

I wasn't meant to have orange juice for breakfast today, I guess.
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I'm back, in case you were wondering.
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I watched Casablanca the other day, and it was really good. I know that seems silly to call a film hailed as one of the best ever as "really good," but I tend to not like older movies for some reason. Give it a try if you haven't.

Electronic Arts (or, EA) has finagled some sort of deal with the NFL to become the purveyors of the only licensed NFL games for the next five years. This is sad and ridiculous news. I've been playing the NFL 2K series since, well, since "2K" became a thing we could say. They've really been a great series, and this move by the NFL will effectively kill those games and any other rival football games. Remember that whole "competition" thing? Sayanora. Man. To me, though, it speaks volumes about how afraid EA was of the 2K series. This deal didn't come cheap to EA, so you know they must have been shaking.

Since October I've had almost 40 hot chocolates. Have you noticed? Yeesh.

Christmas is coming soon and I'm in the same quandary I always am: what should I get for so-and-so? I'm an awful gift giver. I'd much rather someone tell me what they want and I'll just get them that something.

I'm back to my old habits of not being able to sleep so well. I like sleep, but I feel like it's kind of a waste of time, I guess. I mean, that's 4-7 hours I could be doing something else, you know?

Along with that, I'll be changing jobs in January - sorta. I'll still be in the same school corporation, but I'll only be at one school instead of three. The hours are 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., which is nice, but I really, really, need to get my sleep schedule adjusted by then, as being late there will not be an option.

I have a little Christmas tree up - it's about a foot and a half tall. Nutmeg chewed on it for a while, but she's given that up and I'm glad.

It's getting to be about time for me to get a new cell phone. I've never really liked this one, and now it's slowly dying. I'd like to get a camera-phone, but they're pricey. We'll see what happens, I guess.

I'm not such a fan of the "reality" shows. I watched the first two seasons of Survivor, and an episode here and there of various other ones, but I usually can't get excited about the hosers on these shows. At the same time, I always wonder if I'd be any good at any of them. My guess: probably not. I like to get along with people, and the conniving would be difficult for me. That and eating bugs or being in a tank full of scorpions or having to live with weirdos for any length of time. If they had a show about not being able to leave your house and having to take care of two cats, I'd probably be pretty good at that.

I haven't played The Sims 2 as much as I thought I would. I had a house full of people that I left to themselves and they had all died when I came back to check on how they were doing, and I think that put me off it. It's really quite good, but the memory of the little ghosts floating around the house turning on bathtubs and opening doors makes me kind of sad. None of the little dead people were based on me, but it still a little more disturbing than videogames are supposed to be.

Once December 23 rolls around I'm off work until January 4. That is terribly exciting for me. I have grand plans to write a novel, build a chicken coop, learn Portugese, and solve the cold fusion problem, but I bet I'm more likely to watch movies and play videogames. Around here we spell "loser" this way: M-A-D-M-U-P.

Okay, that's enough rambling for a while. I guess I should try to get some sleep, even if it is a huge waste of time.

Labels: apropos of nothing

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I can't keep this to myself: it must be shared.

Right-click and save-as this link right here.

Now listen to it. All of it.

I have no idea who it is, but I do know that I want to listen to it every year around this time. 0 comments

Two neat things happened to me today. I shall relate them to you in order.

First of all, I ran into an old friend at Target. It had been over a year since I last saw her, and I was quite surprised. Instantly when I saw her, memories came rushing back from all the years we've known each other. As we spent a few minutes catching up, the flood of memories was tinged with guilt, as it is completely my fault that we haven't seen each other in so long. As I stuttered through a combination semi-explanation, semi-apology, I couldn't hold back the tears. As we parted, we hugged, and I took the weight of my memories with me on my walk to the van.

When I got home (this is the second part), there was a package waiting for me on my doorstep. When I saw the return address, I knew immediately what it was, but I had no idea what it looked like. See, I have this new-ish friend that I've known less than a year that is a budding artist. I'd seen some of her drawings and her paintings, and one day I mentioned that I would love to have something she had painted. She perked right up and promised she would do something for me one day. That day was a few weeks ago, and the package arrived today. I hope to get a picture of it scanned in so you can see it, but I'm not sure how to do that, since it's too big for any scanners I have access to. It's colorful and exciting and I just love it. I've never held an actual painted piece of art-on-canvas before, and it's an amazing feeling.

It got me to thinking. This isn't a new analogy by any stretch, but if our lives are paintings that we're working on every day, I think friends are the colors. The borders are what we do - they determine how the colors are going to lay on the canvas, but sometimes the results aren't what we necessarily expect. Sometimes the colors cross over and erase borders we thought were permanently etched. Sometimes the borders stop the paint from going somewhere it would fit beautifully. Some colors are bright and brief, some large and foundational, and still others are but shadows that bring out the other colors. Sometimes colors you didn't think would go together very well combine to make new and never-before-seen shades and shapes. Though the canvas can be uneven and imperfect, the colors make it all worthwhile.

Thank you, old friends and new, for beautifying my canvas.
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I am my own worst critic. It's a rare thing when someone brings up a failing of mine that I haven't already considered - I actually live in a semi-constant state of failure recognition. I've been accused of being too hard on myself, but I honestly think I have a realistic self-view.

It's weird, then, when something like this happens: I had an improv show on Friday night, and I wasn't very excited about it. My favorite co-perfomers weren't in it, for the most part, and I didn't think it was going to go very well. The "crowd" ended up being rather small, so that didn't really help my state of mind. We did the show, people laughed, and that was that. My self-rating: not very good. Meh. It happens.

But one of my fellow improv-ers, who came to watch the show and who knows my tendencies toward negative selfward improv ratings told me it was the best they'd ever seen me do.

?!?

I replayed the show in my mind, and I still don't see it, but this person isn't given to hyperbole.

That kind of thing makes me wonder. When my self-rating conflicts with an outside source, I still give more credence to my rating. It's because I know my internal processes. I know what I should be capable of and I know my motivations and those things aren't necessarily visible to an outside observer.

It makes me wonder about perception in general. If people aren't seeing what I know I'm doing, what am I missing in other people?
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In my ongoing quest to have blog entry titles longer than the actual entry, I give you this.


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