Things I'm (Not So) Proud Of...

1) I can play Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 online for hours on end.

2) I'm being a jerk on Fallout 3 on my first go.

3) I not-so-secretly want to make a vegetarian version of KFC's Double Down.

4) I think the chip in my windshield that looks like a bullet hole is pretty freaking awesome.

5) I can make a "that's what she said" reference or other double entendre out of just about anything.

6) And I usually do.

7) I quite possibly have no soul.

8) I have an overwhelming desire to visit all the places in "I've Been Everywhere."

9) I have been known to quote certain parts of "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. Probably not the parts you are thinking of though.

10) I ate pizza with macaroni and cheese on it yesterday. And kind of liked it.

11) I got my @$$ kicked by Buffalo Wild Wings' Blazin' sauce. Just last week!

12) I just made a list of things I'm not proud of.

Not That I Would Know, or Anything...

So, how much of a nerd are you if you chat with your boyfriend about your progress in Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2 solo spec ops missions? How about if you are playing him online and chat about strategy in between missions? And secretly wish to be Soap MacTavish? And take a quiz to find out that you are, in fact, Soap MacTavish? Or, at least a female version of him?

Less Than Coherent...

I have this love-hate thing with insomnia. I love it because, often, some of my best writing comes as a result of it. Also, it's kinda cool to know that my brain just keeps going and going like a bit of marketing from a famous battery company a few years back. But I hate it because, well, it means I'm not sleeping.

I can't say as I really have a sleeping pattern. I'm assuming this is not a good thing. A few weeks ago I slept 4 hours per night each night of the weekend. I felt fine. Then, Sunday evening, it hit me.

I've been traveling a lot today, and, as a result, have found myself napping on airplanes.

By the time my good friend picked me up at the airport late this evening, I felt somewhat intoxicated. I'm not even sure what I said to him. It's been just slightly over an hour since we had this conversation, and I can't recall most of it.

God only knows what I might have said to him.

Anyway, I think I was even dreaming on the plane. I know I was dreaming when I was napping at the airport. Funny thing is, I was only sleeping for short bursts--maybe five minutes at a time, if even that. Now that I'm home and in a nice, comfortable bed (rather than sitting bolt upright in a cramped economy-class airplane seat), I suddenly find myself sleepless. And the darnedest thing is, I'm extremely tired. And sleepy. And yet I can't sleep.

Well, maybe writing about it has helped. Who knows. All I know is that I'm going to need to do my best to get some rest with what is left of this night, because later today, I'm going to have to get back to work.

You know, glancing back over this thing, I think it's the most coherent thing I've ever written. On here, anyway.

Happy 100th Birthday to My Grandfather

Okay, first and foremost, my grandpa died when I was 10. So he's not still alive. But if he were, today would be his 100th birthday, God rest his soul.

Anyway, he kind of started getting dementia when I was a very young child, so unfortunately, I don't have many memories of my grandfather. One that does stick out in my mind, however, is the time he walked me across the street to the grocery store. Whenever he let go of my hand, I remember that my hand smelled like gasoline and motor oil and GoJo cleaning cream. My grandpa was a mechanic, so his hands perpetually smelled like mechanic work.

I really don't have many other memories, except for the times he was living in a nursing home. A few other moments that I can recall are the time he "told on me" for eating margarine straight from the tub, and the times he claimed that I wanted to go eat pizza when he really did. Okay, let's be honest. I did too. Miss you Grandpa!

And Just When You Think It's Safe to Go to Sleep...

Dear Brain,

Please tell me, in a three-page, double-spaced, Times New Roman size 12 font, formal essay, just exactly why you decided to give me a dream in which I am the only person in a town that looks strangely like one of the many towns somewhere along the Rio Grande, who is able to save Llewelyn Moss from Anton Chigurh while the neighbors slept peacefully and I managed to get pretty bloodied up and Llewelyn had to be sent to the hospital in three boxes to sew him back together, and then President Obama came by to open up a bottle of Ozark water and clean my face with it.

Thanks. That will be due Monday at 8 sharp.

Sincerely,
Sunshine Jones

Updating for the Sake of Updating

Wow. I just realized that I haven't updated since Valentine's Day. And I'm not even all that sure why I updated then. I'm insanely tired. I had a conference last weekend (which was very awesome, I might add) and then I had an interview at the same job I have for fall semester this afternoon. And I still have essays to grade and hopefully return tomorrow. I feel sorry for those students since I had to cancel class last week, but I suppose it will be okay. I just need a nap. Then, maybe during my office hour I'll finish up any excess grading I may have. I think I can pull this off.

Gracias a Dios, el dia is almost over!

Oh how I simply dread Valentine's Day. It reminds me of what a misanthrope I really am. I had a pretty decent day in the morning, at least. Had a great time reading my novel (for book club--it's okay, but not one I would have picked) and studying Spanish. I even crocheted a little, as well. Basically, I did things I enjoy by myself. Man, I hate commercialism. I mean, even though I did buy myself some candy for Valentine's.

One thing I've learned about myself through the years is that I'm a callus. I hate romantic anything. I'm not exactly your typical girl. I always have been, and most likely always will be, very tomboyish. But I'm also quite the loner. Only on rare occasions do I like to be around people. But usually, I prefer to be by myself learning things. So I'm a nerd. I don't care.

Even when I do things, it's usually only with close friends or family. People seem to assume that I'm very outgoing. And it's true, I do socialize very well. I just don't care for it. Anyway, this God-forsaken day is almost over. For some reason I'm feeling depressed. Holidays seem to do this to me. Oh well, guess it's time to start another week of work. Hope it's a good one.

Ah, Insomnia!

Okay, so I'm an insomniac. It comes and goes. Lately it's been fairly severe. I don't know what causes it, and I sure as heck don't know why it sometimes goes away. All I know is that my mind races at nighttime. I feel like I'm in college again. Back then I could do crazy things like stay up to 3:00 and then get up at 6:30 to get ready and then be 30 minutes early for an 8:00am class.

It's like I run on adrenaline. Except I have no energy.

Ah, conundrums, enigmas, perplexities, how I'm drawn to them. It's really windy tonight. Maybe that will help me sleep. Usually a good drizzly rain can do the trick. IHOP sounds really good once again for some reason. I never used to like pancakes, but for some reason just lately... I don't know. Anyway, back to what I was saying, it's like my brain is always switched on for some reason. I guess there's nothing wrong with that, but sometimes I think it might be good for it to take a break and get some rest. But then, most of the time sleeping causes weird "nightmares" (yes, I intentionally quotified the word, because they really aren't frightening nightmares, but they are unpleasant dreams; but when I wake up, I never can figure out what element of the dreams were so unpleasant; sometimes those unpleasant dreams can put me in a foul mood for much of the day though).

I'm really not that emotional of a person. I mean, most of the time I feel like I'm just one big callus. I am sort of anxious to get Valentine's Day over with. I've never been much for the mushy stuff. I hate romantic comedies with a passion. I mean, I think I've elevated it to an art form. And I know I have it down to a science. Let's see how many other cheap and easy cliches I can riddle this post with.

Okay, so on that note, I'm reading The Memory Keeper's Daughter for book club. Thus far, it's been a lot better than I expected. But then again, I fear that it will turn into chick-lit. I guess time will tell.

I'm really getting the travel bug. Maybe it's because it's winter. I mean, invierno does that to a person, right? No se. By the way, just a word of caution: sometimes I slip into Spanish here and there. All apologies for that. I am studying the language, and I'm to that point where sometimes the Spanish word comes easier than the English one.

So I finished 1919. Man I'm starting to sound like Holden Caulfield. If I start calling everything a phony and say I ought to go see ol' Phoebe, then I'll know there's a problem. But yeah, finished the John Dos Passos book and abruptly shifted gears to Kim Edwards. As I said, I'm learning Spanish, but I'm already making plans to study German next. Boy howdy. I sure know how to pile the extra work on myself.

Addition

Well, I just haven't had a whole lot of insight to share with the world recently for some cause or other. But I do have some news. My cousin Andre, and her husband, Scott, just bought a Schnauzer puppy last night. And oh my, if he isn't hyper! We've taken some precautions to puppy-proof the house to the best of our ability. Such as closing doors. Used to be that the only way Pierce and I knew that the bathroom (that we share) was unoccupied was that the door was wide open. Now, it's always closed. Let's just hope we each remember to lock the door while in there.

Oh, and something else to be on the lookout for: walking around barefoot. Puppy seems to have taken a dump on the floor of the breakfast nook last night with no warning that he needed let out. Oops. And also, there appeared a mysterious puddle about a foot and a half from the other offering. And human footprints lined the kitchen. We're not sure which of us stepped in it--most likely it was either Andre or myself, though it could have been Pierce. See, used to be, water on the floor was no big deal. Maybe somebody spilled a little water walking from the refrigerator to the table in the breakfast nook. You stepped in it, it dried, no big deal. Now, if we step in anything questionable, it is a big deal.

But the little guy really is a joy. He just loves everybody (though he might try to bite toes) and has been providing us all with some much-needed laughter for the past 18 hours or so. We're all getting to that point in the semester where the pace is picking up. Not bad yet, but a little stress relief can't hurt.

When All Else Fails, Ramble about Tarantino Movies...

Okay, so I finally got around to watching both of the Kill Bill movies. I thought they were brilliant. And the other night I couldn't get the sound effect of Uma Thurman in swordfighting mode out of my head. Now I can't remember what it sounded like anymore. It's strange, but back when those movies were in theaters I remember thinking they sounded incredibly stupid. I thought they were slasher flicks.

Guess I was the stupid one.

Anyway, my first Tarantino movie was Pulp Fiction. Oddly enough, that is a movie I did want to see when it first came out. But I was a little young and I don't think my parents wanted me to be exposed to all those "adult" themes at such a young age. Sure, the reason I wanted to see it is because I enjoyed its spoof (Plot Friction) in Mad Magazine, but it's all good, right?

I thoroughly enjoyed Pulp Fiction last year when I finally rented it, and moved on to Inglourious Basterds which I saw in the theater on opening night. It was great too.

I should back up and say that technically my first experience with Quentin Tarantino was Reservoir Dogs, which I gave up on far too early, being unaccustomed to Tarantino movies and not really knowing what to expect. So I'll have to watch that one in its entirety before making any judgments about it.

RIP J.D. Salinger

Okay, so as not to appear hypocritcal, let me begin with this disclaimer:

Laying it on the line, I'm a little miffed that Mr. Salinger had to make The Catcher in the Rye as reclusive as he was.

There. I said it.

I would have loved for him to have given permission to someone to make Catcher into a play. And I'm not much of a play person, but I really think it would have worked. I mean, I fell in love with Holden Caulfield in college when I read the book.

I taught the book to a group of students and did something that would probably make the late Salinger roll over in his burial of choice: I had the students write something in Holden's voice. I wanted to make sure that they understood the character, and that was my way of assessing them, while incorporating creative writing into the mix.

Mr. Salinger, if I offended you in any way by making that assignment, I do apologize.

But, the apologies are not over yet. Another thing I must confess is that I wrote a story with Holden Caulfied in it. Nothing that I would ever try to publish, you understand, but just a writing exercise, basically.

Once again, meaning no disrespect by these actions, I'm just a big fan of Holden Caulfield. And to know that the man who created him is no longer with us, even though he wanted to be out of the public eye most of his life, is kinda sad.

Even though I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted anyone to feel that way.

Potentially Disjointed Post

Okay, night #2 of insomnia. Problem is, my insomnia last night caused me to be very tired and unmotivated today. I tried my best to act enthusiastic, but in reality, I felt like I was in grad school all over again after having stayed up all night reading academic essays on pedagogy and then getting up early to tutor students in writing, going on nothing but caffeine. Except this time, it was without caffeine.

I knew I should have made some coffee.

I can eat gelatin knowing when it's made of, thinking about what it's made of, even though I'm a vegetarian. Hey, I never promised to be vegan.

My Spanish is getting better. Just last night, I went to eat Mongolian food with the book club, and when I saw the orange root vegetable, the first word that came to mind was, "zanahorias." It took a few minutes for "carrot" to come to mind. We'll assume this is promising.

I was thrilled to receive correspondence from a former student. I did ask them all to keep in touch, but remembering how I was "one poor correspondent" (sorry to rip off "Sister Golden Hair") with most of my former college instructors and professors, I was pleasantly surprised to see that a student actually did send me a message.

All in all, it's been a decent day. Now, if I could just get a little sleep so that I'll feel more refreshed tomorrow. And possibly less random than I seem to be right now...

The Absent Minded Instructor

Okay, so I managed to get through the day without my ID or my EXPO markers. Nothing short of a miracle.

The high school where I teach dual enrollment classes apparently knows me well enough that no one seemed to notice that I was ID-less. And I wasn't about to advertise it. Somehow I managed to get past all four security checkpoints (two at ingress and two at egress) sans the ID.

Then I showed up at the college to teach my second class. I didn't figure my lack of an ID would be a problem there since I can pass for a college student if I really want/need to (side note: a security guard at the college once informed me that I was parking in a faculty parking lot. I said, "I know--I am faculty"). Anyway, so the ID thing really wasn't a problem. And my students had a good laugh at my expense when I admitted to them that I'd forgotten my ID badge. It wasn't so funny, however, when I realized I was without my beloved EXPO markers, as well. Seems I'd cleaned out my bag before break and forgotten to repack the markers once the new semester began.

Aside from the goofy stuff though, it wasn't too bad of a day!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my dad's birthday! I hope he had a great day :)

Hmm...

Was just reading Dos Passos' 1919 (published in 1932), and noticed he mentioned the scents of mustard gas and roses. I wonder if Vonnegut ever read Dos Passos. Granted, this mustard gas and roses came from WWI, not II, but there might be a connection there.

I must really miss grad school.

A Slightly Philosophical Moment (Or, Faith Restored)

Well I went out to the park today. It was pretty nice. I read some on 1919 and took a couple walks. I didn't quite get my 10000 steps, but I did get some exercise.

During one of the walks, I saw something precious. And when I say something is precious, you know it has to be, since I'm not the mushy, sentimental type. Anyway, a woman was walking with her small child (since I've been studying Spanish, the first thing I thought of was "La mujer y su hijo caminan") down to the pier. As they were walking down, two geese waddled up to the kid. I'm sure there's something philosophical there, but I haven't thought about it enough. All I can say is that just about the time I'd given up hope in this world, that sight restored some of it.

The Muse Strikes! (This time with a blunt object)

I had a lovely day today. I spent much of it practicing Spanish. It's a slow go, but I think know I'm making progress. It almost makes me wish I were a student again. Almost.

On that topic, at least two of my friends from grad school are in PhD programs now; one of my grad school buds is applying for grad school; and one of my undergrad friends is finishing up, preparing for grad school, and already making plans for the PhD program.

I still think I made the right decision for myself. After being in school for nearly 20 years, I was ready for a break. I wanted to travel, which I got to do a little of. I wanted a full-time job, which I got. And I wanted some R&R, which I sorta got. It's been wonderful to have a little bit of time to actually do the things I always thought I'd do if I ever got the chance. These days, I'm trying to work in anything I can. For instance, on days where I have large chunks of time (think, today) I like to spend the bulk of it on my Spanish, and spend a fair amount of time reading.

I already read the book for next week's book club meeting, so I checked out the 2nd book in the USA trilogy, 1919, earlier this week. To be honest, I haven't made much progress on it. I keep trying to go to the park, but it's just too chilly to sit and read. I was, however, able to do some walking, which is a good habit, I'd say. Tomorrow, weather permitting, I plan to try reading/walking in the park again. We'll see how that goes.

I've also been crocheting myself a doily. I thought I had one particular pattern, but as it turns out, I have a different one. Eh well, this one seems easier, and they're both pretty. Plus, I'll probably have enough thread left over from this doily to make another anyway.

I finished up a project I've been working on for Raquel. I am still finishing up one for her sister. Hopefully I'll get them both wrapped up this semester. But then, I also have several counted cross stitch projects to do. Most of them are small, and I'm thinking of giving them to my cousin as a set. I haven't seen her in probably ten years or more. I thought she was coming for Christmas, but turns out she couldn't. Maybe next year.

Anyway, I also talked to my parents, grandmother, and Raquel today. All in all, it's been a pretty good day, and I'm sad to see it come to a close. I always want to stay up as late as possible to squeeze out the last drop of day, but then I always make up for it by sleeping in the next day. Sometimes I think I'm the type of person who wouldn't sleep if it weren't necessary. But then, I tend to get a bit grumpy if I don't get my sleep, so I suppose I'm a bit of a contradiction.

This rambling business must mean that I need to get off the computer and get ready for bed. I hear 1919 calling me...

Wrapping up the Week

Yesterday proved to be a nice relaxing day, even after the incident. Anyway, I was able to spend a considerable amount of time studying Spanish, I read some on 1919, I started a crocheted doily for myself, I finished a project for Racquelle, and I was even able to take a walk in the park with my cousins.

Now, today there are two meetings slated. But then, there's always the weekend.

Fixed!

Well guys, after I got done blogging the previous post, I rolled up my shirtsleeves and got to work. And learned a lot about bed construction in the process. It really wasn't hard to fix, but the worst part was trying to move the mattress and box springs out of the way to get to the problem area. I'm kinda pleased with myself :) Maybe this won't be such a bad day after all. But then, to be on the safe side, I'd better knock on wood and not speak too soon...

P.S. All this before breakfast!

One of those Days...

Okay, so I know now why I was on pins and needles about the all-too-good day I was having yesterday. It was in preparation for what happened just after I woke up this morning. I was lying in bed musing about how embarrassing it would be for me if my light ever burned out in my room because I'd have to ask my cousin or her husband to replace it for me. And I have a terrible aversion to asking for help/feeling like a nuisance. Yes, even over a burned out bulb. Anyway, I'd been contemplating this for some time, but decided that I needed to really wake up and get going on this day. After all, it's a meeting-free day that doesn't involve class planning, so I really needed to get up and make the most of it. As I was rolling over in bed to reach for my laptop (I find the Internet a very nice way to wake up), a board or two fell out from under the bed and now the northwest corner of the box springs is now on the floor, and my bed's a bit droopy.

Yes, that's right all you James Thurber fans. The bed fell. Sorta. It made a horrendously loud noise and I was afraid that people would come running up wanting to know if I was okay and all that. Sure, I'm fine. The bed, on the other hand...

So I was thinking, just now as I sit on the floor because I don't want to get on the bed for fear of what might happen next, this is going to be far more embarrassing than asking someone to fix a lightbulb. The first actions I took were to clean around and under the bed, just in the event that anyone might come barging into my room (fortunately, no one did; the walls in this house are fairly soundproof). The second thing I did was to get on here and blog about it. Now, my next plan of action is to see if I can fix it. I don't know what the deal is, but I really hope that it's manageable because I don't want them to have to buy another bed.

I suppose if worse comes to worst, there's always that air mattress.