For The Benefit of Future Generations

So, I've been going through some things from my childhood. Cleaning out the old homestead. Because, there comes a time in every lady's life where she has to decide if she really needs to hold on to those root beer bottle caps from '96. Not that I'm not sure the beverages in question were delicious.  I mean, seriously, it's root beer. What could go wrong? But is it necessary for me to commemorate my drinking it? That's the question.

And the answer is, probably not....but maybe....hold strong, Johnson, hold strong....No. The answer is no. I don't need that. 

Of course, there have been a few gems that will be truly hard to part with. For instance, this notebook from the late '90s:

I know what you're thinking, Of course, you can't throw out such a bitchin' ice cream cone notebook! And you're not wrong, but this little pad is so much more than that. It is a detailed, if poorly spelled, record of information vital to the survival of human culture.

 

Simple and to the point. Perfect for passing

information along to future generations. 

 Hopefully those future generations won't be so 

dependent on spell-check that this mistake

makes the record indecipherable.

"Scruffy looking nerf herder" would have also

been acceptable. 

 

 I believe the descriptor here was meant to be 

"Crafty." Unless "Crafy" is Bespin slang.

Listing a Wookie's age seems more likely to

make him angry than the whole beating

him at chess thing.

Cibor, huh? It's just....so....close.

 He's a simpler fellow than that C-3PO guy.

 Wow, Past Kelly, a "Spoiler Alert" would have

been nice. 

Both objectivity and spelling took a bit of 

a hit here. 

 It just seems like there may be more dashes

here than absolutely necessary.

Just for clarification purposes, Yoda's species 

has always been listed as "unknown." 

Don't know what this "Green Dwarf"

business is about.

Apparently the rage over these "jerks" manifests

in the devolution of spelling.

Nope, sorry. Scratch that last observation. Friend

or foe, spelling is clearly not a priority.

With the wisdom that comes with age, I can now

admit that perhaps Mr. Fett's story was a bit

less black and white than I originally thought.

As such, "jerk" might be a little bit strong. 

That this descriptor was thought to be necessary

seems a bit speciesist. Just saying. 

 If you're wondering when Wedge got this mispelled

promotion (which you're not), Past Kelly was

just giving you a little taste of what the

extended universe has to offer.

Hence the inclusion of this one character who 

appears only in the books.

 The final proof that these insane ramblings were

not ultimately meant for me, but rather for some 

studier of maniacal tendencies. Unless I thought

there was a chance I might forget I was indeed

female. Because the whole Star Wars thing

was clearly going to stick. 

It just seemed wrong not to share these with you all. Where exactly would the justice be if you were not all informed of the kind of person you're cyber-hanging out with?

Also, if the anthropologist for whom I wrote this is out there and has been wondering why it's taken so long for these observations to see the light of day, I apologize deeply for the delay. Please let me know if you need further clarification on the aforementioned observations. 

I will await your response. 

Mental Reset

Do you have a default song in your head?

I tend to frequently get songs stuck in my head. Last night it was “I’m Gonna Be” by The Proclaimers. A good, fun song, to be sure. But once it latches on to your brain stem, it’s nearly impossible to shake it off.

And because I’m a little bit mean, I’m going to try to put it in all of your heads as well:

You’re welcome.

But, back to the point – lots of songs get stuck in my head. Some more than others. For days, I will have the same melody playing in circles in the old brain pan. And when I finally manage to oust them, they almost inevitably turn up on the radio. The tunes of Cee Lo and Carly Rae Jepsen haunt me.  

There are some days however, where my brain is quiet. No music. Just peaceful silence. Which is wonderful, until I decide that I’m bored with it and would like a little music. And suddenly….nothing. For all my love of songs, I can not come up with a one.

This deafening quiet tends to last just under the longest minute ever and then the music comes through again. But in these situations, it is almost invariably the same song that pops into my mind first.

“Colors of the Wind.”

Yup, the song from Disney’s Pocahontas.

I have no idea why. Sure, I liked that movie as a kid, but it wasn’t my favorite Disney film. I’ve been in numerous musicals. I’ve listened to countless CDs. My inner musical library is not too shabby.

But every time: “Colors of the Wind.”

So, am I alone, or does this happen to other people? Do you have one random song that is always the first to pop into your head when you decide it’s time to do a little singing?

And, finally, in deference to my inner voice:

I’m all for walking in another’s footsteps, but I think grabbing bear cubs 

is an action that should be included in this song.

Brain Overload

When was growing up, my father lived in fear of five words: “Can we go to Blockbuster?”

It’s not the he wasn’t a movie fan. He was, and is, one of the biggest I know. What he wasn’t a fan of was the time it took me to pick out a movie.

You see, it wasn’t enough for me to just rent a movie. I had to rent the PERFECT movie. You know...the one where after I chose it, confetti would rain down and everyone in the store would cease their own movie search to clap and cheer as I ran toward the counter, bestowing high-fives on them all.

That perfect movie.

And I had a process. First I had to choose the genre. Then I had to read the back covers of pretty much every movie in those aisles. Then I had to take into account my mood and the moods I perceived in anyone who might be watching it with me.

On a good night, I was out within an hour. On a less decisive one, I was out when my father threw me over his shoulder and marched out the door.

He would valiantly try to speed the process along. He’d offer suggestions of movies that he thought I would love. I’d listen very nicely, thank him for telling me about said film, and tell him I would certainly keep it in mind during my deliberations. I honestly can’t tell you how many times, after another forty-five minutes or so of waffling, I would end up choosing dad’s suggestions.

And I would, of course, love it.

But come the next foray into Blockbuster, poor dad would be left standing there in the aisle holding his suggestion whilst I scampered off to look into another fifteen movies.

I used to think that I wouldn’t get sucked into such a time vortex if I had all these movies at home. It was the whole having to leave the house to get them that made me so intent on picking the perfect one. Because I couldn’t just switch to another if I decided I didn’t like once I got home.

But the other night I decided I was going to watch something on Netflix. I was in the mood for a comedy, so I clicked the tab and they popped up. Forty minutes later I was still scrolling. Still trying to decide between the five or so that I had whittled down to.

WHICH WAS THE PERFECT ONE?

*Cut to me rocking back and forth in a corner muttering movie titles under my breath.*

Turns out it has nothing to do with travel time.

Nope. Apparently, my brain just stops functioning at its normal pace when presented with that many story options. Good to know.

Plus side, at least now my dad doesn’t have to stand in an aisle, beating his head against a wall, whilst I peruse.

So…you’re welcome, dad.

Morning Beast is Angry

Recently, the CD player in my car broke. It’s making strange, otherworldly whirring sounds and will neither play music, nor allow me to retrieve the CDs I so foolishly placed in its care.

And while my first reaction was total, despondent despair, I quickly realized that I could live with this. See, I have one of those plug thingies that allows me to play my iPod over the car speakers.

Problem solved!

Right?

Wrong.

In an example of unconscious self-sabotage at its finest, I just left my iPod up at my sister’s in Maine. MAINE.

So, I am left with the radio. Now to be clear, I have no fundamental problem with the radio. Many of my fondest childhood memories involve sitting in a car, wailing along to whatever song the radio gods chose to put forth. I like the mystery – the anticipatory ooh, what are they gonna play next feeling. See – no radio hate here.

Except…

The commercials are a little rough. I’ve definitely been spoiled by technology. Whether it be music or television, I want my entertainment and I want it now. This is particularly true in the morning. There’s a reason I don’t listen to any sort of talk or news radio in the early hours. It’s the same reason as why the Roomie and I stumble past each other in the hallway, avoiding eye contact, and maintain an unspoken pact to speak nary a word to each other until we’ve been at work for a couple hours.

Mornings are not generally comprised of my finest moments. And you know the whole thing about music soothing the savage beast? It’s true. What doesn’t work for getting the morning beastie to calm down? Talking. No, the sound of talking sends the morning beastie into incoherent howling, sprinkled with moments of Gollum-esque muttering.

Believe me when I say, you do not want to be driving next to someone, glance over into their car and see that going on.

Then there’s the fact that every radio station I’ve found has apparently been coerced into playing the same seven songs on a loop, throwing in maybe one change-up an hour (this morning’s was Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable.” Classic 2006).

So now, as I write this I’m humming One Direction’s lovely ditty about a girl being beautiful because she’s insecure and kind of really, really want to scream. Still, I can’t dispute their claim that the best way to prove you’re right is to place your argument in a song. Roomie and I live by this theory.  

And so continues my descent into madness.

Costume Considerations

Earlier this week I was having a conversation with a coworker regarding Halloween costumes. Her daughters have just started brainstorming as to what the perfect outfits would be for this year’s All Hallows Eve. I applaud them not only for waiting until we had broken in October (regardless of how barely) to discuss the topic of Halloween costumes and also for understanding that such decisions can not be taken lightly.

At least not if you’re me.

I used to spend hours and hours deciding on what would be the perfect Halloween costume. After all, I was a kid who liked to dress up like characters from stories on normal days, so Halloween had to have a little something special.

Here are a five of my favorite story-inspired costumes through the years.

1.

 

Oh, you don’t remember the story of the clown and the football-loving wolf man? How strange. Okay, fine, this costume didn’t come from a story, but I just thought you might want to see the origin of my consideration of clown as a valid career option.

2. 

One of my all time favorite costumes. I wanted to be an Animorph (natch), but couldn’t figure out how to do it. My mother suggested a brilliant way to show both the human and morph side and I happily cut a pair of jeans and a shirt in half. Result: Magic.

3. 

Who gets through high school without occasionally feeling a little evil? Not me. Perfect outlet: Cruella Devil. I filled the pocket of that coat with Dalmatian stuffed animals and got the lovely Odysseus to suffer the indignity of posing as my next victim. (Hey, he could have had it worse. He was almost named Cupcake. *shudders*)

Over the years, I also started to draw others into my web of insanity. Case in point: Roomie (who has been kind enough to sanction the use of her photo for these last two examples).

4. 

Proof that we’re Freakin’ Friends. At least until we come to bad ends.

5. 

One of us is a genius, the other insane. Just don’t expect us to agree on which is which (or if both are both). I can, however, say that, generally speaking, we do like do the same thing every night.

Okay, your turn now. What are your favorite past Halloween costumes? Are you planning to dress up this year?

Also, since I am such a fan of all things dress up, I would love to feature some of your past Halloween costumes on the blog. If you’re interested in being awesome, shoot me an email at countlesslives@gmail.com!

Lunacy, At Its Finest

As we creep up on the first day of fall and the temperatures start to take a turn for the chilly, don't Fridays just feel a little....you know....spookier? Like maybe you should be fortifying your stockpile for the inevitable zombie apocalypse? Or at least drinking cider and watching Hocus Pocus?

I know it's not just me, because Lauren Grimley has also been feeling it. Particularly after she found out that the her novel, Unforeseen, is going to be released in paperback the Friday before the full moon. That's why she decided to host the Freaky Friday Blog Tour and was nice enough to ask me to participate.

You probably all remember Lauren from when she last hung out here, confessing all her guiltiest of pleasures. Today she's going to dish on all the things that push her to the loonier side of life. So, check it out and then come visit with me over on her blog, On Writing, Life, and Other Misadventures! 

My Loony List 

When I found out my book’s paperback release fell on Friday September 28^th, one day before a full moon, I couldn’t resist taking advantage of it. Full moons and fantasy writers just seem to go together like writers and lame similes. And as a teacher they hold a particularly special place in my heart. Think crazy X 22 (the average class size) + teenage hormones, and you have my classroom come next Friday. Don’t believe the scientific studies that set out to disprove it; full moons make kids, and most other living creatures, crazy. And sometimes those kids and other living creatures drive me crazy (crazier?).

So rather than confess all the strange habits that make me crazy, as Kelly so honestly did on my site, I’m here to warn the world about what drives me bonkers. After all, those of you who know me, already know what makes me nuts, and for those who don’t, maybe I can get away a little longer convincing you I’m sane. Or maybe not.

1. Loud chewing. Mouth open, mouth closed, it doesn’t matter; if I can hear someone chewing across the table, it drives me nuts. I know that most people can’t help the volume at which they chew, beyond closing their mouths while doing it. I know some foods are louder when consumed than others. I even know that my own chewing is often audible. Still, the soundtrack to digestion grates on my nerves.

2. Odd! punctuation…in, emails; and other notices? I’d like to blame the English teacher in me for this one, but I think no matter what my college major was that weirdly punctuated correspondence would irk me. I’ve worked for two great bosses since leaving college. I admire and respect them both, but each has had a punctuation habit that I couldn’t quite fathom. The first was an obsessive exclamator!!!! (Yes, I just invented that term, but it gets the point across!!!) I think passion is wonderful, but one exclamation point normally does the trick…Then there’s the ellipsorator…Who uses ellipses like they’re going out of style…I can’t quite figure this one out…But I do know it’s a bit annoying!!!

3. Untied shoelaces. When I see an untied lace, I can’t help but foresee imminent disaster. Perhaps this is because I am klutz who couldn’t walk more than five steps before tripping over my own untied lace, or perhaps it goes back to my days working in a daycare when my six-hour shift was consumed with potty trips and shoelace tying. Either way I have one word for all you untied lace wearers of the world: Velcro.

4. Mysterious Facebook updates. Social media is the place you go to share your mundane life with your ‘friends.’ It is not meant to be the internet’s version of mystery theater. If you want to share, share. If you want to keep to yourself, keep to yourself. If you want to post something vague and mysterious so that everyone will beg you for details, you need to get a therapist to help you deal attention-seeking issues. Or maybe you need to write a mystery novel.

5. People with more pet peeves than patience. Okay, so I’ve just rambled on with an entire list of what makes me loony, but overall, I’m a pretty easy-going person. Everyone’s allowed his or her own loony list, so long as we understand that our pet peeves are our problem. Though I do occasionally point out untied laces to my students and gripe to friends about other’s odd FB updates, I don’t expect the world to change so I can be less crazy. If the world can handle my quirks, I can find a little patience for other people’s.

Hopefully this first Freaky Friday post was more entertaining than nerve-grating! Thanks, Kelly for having me.

Bio:

When Lauren Grimley isn’t chasing people around offering to tie their shoes, she’s writing or teaching in central Massachusetts. If she finds free time beyond these activities, she’s likely to spend it on a beach with a book and bottle of wine close by. Her first novel, an urban fantasy entitled Unforeseen, was e-published this spring and is being released as a paperback September 28th. The second book in the series, Unveiled, is off to the publisher, while the third is being dragged, kicking and screaming, from Lauren’s imagination.

Links to learn more about Lauren and her projects:

Personal website: http://www.laurengrimley.com

Blog: http://blog.laurengrimley.com

Twitter @legrimley:  http://twitter.com/ - !/legrimley

Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/AuthorLaurenGrimley

Links to Unforeseen and “Unknown” (a short from later in the series)

Amazon:

Unforeseen  http://amzn.to/Iyas63

“Unknown”   http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00865C4DM

 

Smashwords:

Unforeseen   http://bit.ly/KESWTO

Barnes & Noble

Unforeseen   http://bit.ly/M7v5MK

Clock's ticking....

You ever have one of those days where there just don’t seem to be enough hours to accomplish everything that needs to get done? Where it seems like the time gods are playing silly pranks and making the seconds speed by faster than they normally do?

You’re frustrated and crabby. You’ve hit that point where you’re thinking about just trading it all in. Quitting all the things and starting anew. Maybe you’ll open up a diner in Hawaii. Or become an independently-wealthy-socialite-nighttime-caped-crusader. Found a wizarding school for mystical platypuses! In that moment the world of possibilities opens wide.

Then you remember that you need some start-up capital for these awesome endeavors. And you’re working now, so it only makes sense to stay where you are for the time being until you have the means for your well thought out long term plans. But how are you going to accomplish what needs to be done when you just don’t have enough time? Hmmm….maybe you’ll just chuck it all….just walk from one side of the country to the other.

This vicious cycle continues on and on. And do you know what happens as your mind continues to spin out in every direction?

You take care of all the things you need to get done.

Because there is enough time. Not for everything, true, but for everything important. As of Friday, I am two months out of grad school. If you’d asked me four months ago if I was going to get everything done before graduation, I probably would have punched you in the tooth, laughed maniacally until the sound turned into a scream of desperation and run down the street, waving my arms in the air.

In short, I just didn’t think I had enough time.

I wailed. I gnashed my teeth. I’m pretty sure that Roomie was one complaint away from putting her “roommate alteration” plan into effect. And I wouldn't have blamed her.

But I continued to tear out clumps of my hair as I gremlined through the apartment, with my arms wrapped around my notes on Civil War theater troupes, muttering about “my precious.” And every day I went to work, attended my classes, handed in my papers on time, posted on the blog and continued working on my writing.

Sure, I had to let go of a few things. Like sleep. Or eating things that didn’t come out of a Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box. I’m still catching up on the TV and fun-time reading I had to postpone. But everything that I deemed important got done. And the rest didn’t really need to.

On any given day, we do have enough time. The trick is just to decide what’s essential enough to fill it with.

*And if you sometimes need a reminder of this, the way I do, I suggest checking out this story.

Recreational Spending

I think I need another bookshelf. I don’t really know where I’m going to put it. I already have four in my room. But, I’m starting to have to store books on the floor again, which generally means it’s time to start looking for another shelving unit. If I mention this to Roomie, she'll roll her eyes and shake her head.

It’s not that Roomie doesn’t like reading. She does. But when she was a kid, she didn’t dream about owning the library from Beauty and the Beast, so she doesn’t quite see the point in spending money on yet another bookshelf. That works out though, because I don’t really get spending money to swim under live wires.

Roomie did the Tough Mudder this past weekend. I, sadly, wasn’t able to watch her complete this because I was all preoccupied with graduating. Last night though, she told me all about it. Of course, to make the story complete, she had to first don the orange sweatband she received whilst running.

She showed me a map of the course and took me obstacle by obstacle. There were twenty-one and each of them sounded horrible, but some were a little worse than others. Roomie said that the one she hated most was charmingly named, “Arctic Enema.” It was a dumpster filled with freezing water and a couple inches of ice cubes floating atop. She jumped in and then had to fully submerge herself to get past the wood board in the middle and over to the other side where other runners were waiting to pull her out. Apparently it took about ten minutes before she could stop shaking.

Then there was the one where she ran through bails of hay that had been set on fire. According to her recounting, the smoke was worse than the fire. So she would just open her eyes to see far she’d be running straight and then run that with her eyes closed to protect from smoke. When she saw my shock over running blind through flaming hay, she assured me, “Yeah, but when we got to other side, there was an aid stand where we got banana halves.”

I couldn’t tell you if she knows someone who has stated that half a banana is so delicious they would walk through flames to get one, but I can assure you, it wasn’t me.

And of course, my favorite, the “Electric Eel,” where she had to slide on her stomach through water, above which dangled live wires. She got shocked about five times. At this point in the story I asked why in all of hell she would pay to do this and she said that the money went to charity. I pointed out that she could also just donate money to charity and skip the whole potential electrocution thing. She waved this off, saying, “It wasn’t really that bad. It was just like you got punched real fast.”

The one thing that made this whole thing a little less Hunger Games to me was the fact that everyone there was apparently more than willing to help everyone else. Roomie said that most of the obstacles couldn’t be completed on your own, so other runners were always around to help you finish the ones they’d already completed. Which is kind of awesome and a pretty clear example of why, in a zombie apocalypse, these are the people you’d want by your side.

That being said….I think I’m going to stick with my bookshelves.

Melodies of Madness

For me, there’s nothing that can lift my mood faster than music. I generally like to listen to it wherever I am, which can be mildly problematic. Mostly for those around me. I have the tendency of singing along without realizing it.

For this, I would like to issue a blanket apology to any coworkers who have ever happened by me while I’ve been in the zone.

When I realize I’m doing this, I’ll turn the music off in an effort to avoid further embarrassment. This does not, however, silence the constant soundtrack I have running in my head. More often than not, just one or two lines of a variety of songs. Tunes that burrow in with such ferocity it would take high grade explosives to get them out.

Yesterday was one of those days were my head music was at its height.

5:05 – Alarm goes off.

Far too early.

Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men! It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!

Okay. I saw that show almost a year ago. I need to stop singing this.

7:29 – At my desk.

When the beating of the heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes! Will you join in my crusade? Who will be strong and stand with –

Ugh.

9:04 – Sending my roommate a message.

- the music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of the heart -

Me: “Give me a song to get Les Mis out of my head, please.”
Her: “CEE LO.”
Me: “You’re mean.”
Her: “It’ll work though.”
Me: “I know.”
Her: “SO A THANK YOU WOULD BE MORE APPROPRIATE.”
Me: “I wouldn’t go that far.”

I see you driving round town with the girl I love and I’m like F –

Really not work appropriate.

11:18 – Walking down the hallway.

I guess the change in my pocket wasn’t enough and I’m like F –

Damn it.

12:34 – Eating lunch.

Guess she's an X-box and I'm more an Atari –

Stop.

1:53 – Desk bound once again.

- change in my pocket wasn’t enough and I’m like -

No. No. NO. Think of another song. Any other song. Bring Les Mis back. Why can’t I think of any of the words to Les Mis? OK, I like a million songs. I can come up with another song.

What’s another song?!?

Turned up the collar on my favorite winter coat. This wind is blowing my mind. See the kids –

See the kids –

Uh oh. What are the other words? Quick, before Cee Lo comes back. Think faster! How is there nothing? OK, skip ahead. Skip ahead!

I’m starting with Man in the Mirror. I’m asking him to make a change. No message could have been any clearer. If you wanna make the world a better place, gotta look at yourself and make a change.

Ahhh, relief.

2:22 – Almost time to head home!

No message could have been any clearer. If you wanna make the world a better place, gotta look at yourself and make a change. I’m starting with the Man –

I really need to learn the rest of the words.

2:56 – In the car, rockin’ out to the tunes.

I see you driving round town with the girl I love and I’m like –

No. Stop. That song isn’t even on. You have music on. Sing that. Please.

3:57 – Must do homework.

I see you –

Nope. Not happening. Pick something completely different. Yes! That’s it.

Each time I see a crowd of people, just like a fool I stop and stare. It’s really not the proper thing to do, but maybe you’ll be there. I go out walking after midnight…

I know all the words. All. The. Words.

Perfection.

Now, concentrate on what you’re reading.

7:18 – Time for a little D.V.D. relaxation time.

Oh, McGarrett and Danno…so funny.

You can always count on me and I can count on you. Good times, bad times, in between, my friends will see me through.

What? Is that the theme song to The Babysitter’s Club T.V. show? Yes. I believe it is. Okay…. But why?

9:07 – Still with the T.V. watching.

We’ve been having wonderful times every day. All together, singing our song. Growing in every way. Say hello to my friends – BABYSITTER’S CLUB!

All right, no need to scream it. Wait! Hawaii Five-0! Of course! The episode with both Stacey and Dawn from The Babysitter’s Club movie. Sure, that episode was on months ago and is not even part of the same season that I’m currently watching, but whatever. The mental leap isn’t that far. All makes sense.

Ahhh, that’s a relief. Would have driven me nuts.

Say hello to the people who care. Nothing’s better than friends – BABYSITTER’S CLUB! Cause you know that your friends are always there.

But you can stop now.

10:49 – Bed time.

Nothing’s better than friends – BABYSITTER’S CLUB!

Nuh-uh. No singing. Sleepies.

11:02

All together singing our song. Growing in every way.

I said no more.

11:41

I see you driving round town with the girl I love and I’m like F –

Help.