How to Be a Proper Lady

Go thee hence

2011-08-31T08:52:00.003-04:00

I am here to happily report that this blogspot/blogger blog has reached the end of its usefulness. But, fear not, I have migrated my blog to a FANCY NEW PLACE! You can see it by visiting here: http://blog.lanerd.com/. There are tabs along the top to help you navigate to various places. I now have two blogs. One is still named How to Be a Proper Lady, and contains most of the content that this blog had. And the other is brand new, named Extra Ordinary, and will be a magical place of fiction. All that now exists there is a description of what the blog is for (hard to go into here, so you can find out there). Soon, I hope, there will be actual content.

While this is all an unofficial reveal, I may as well mention that the appearance of http://www.lanerd.com/ has also gotten a facelift, as well as a few useful links. Many thanks to the lovely husby for his mad web skillz and ability to take my rough directions of style (fashion!) and make them look pretty.

Anyway, this is all still on the d/l, but I figured faithful followers of this bloggity blog should be the first in the know.

Oh, and also, you should please reset your links or bookmarks, because some day in the near future, I have great plans to oliterate all of my content on blogger.

x Andrle x

Sodium, Schmodium

2011-08-24T13:18:00.006-04:00

I must start out by stating how ridiculously pumped full of goo our food is. America? Are you on crack? Well, our food practically is. The last thing I want is to become one of those people who is handed a jar of food and turns immediately to the nutrition label to see what about it is going to kill me. But in some ways it seems necessary to consider the ridiculous nature of most of our food contents.

Readers of about this time last year (well, perhaps a month or so earlier) might recall a long blog post about my plans to avoid sugar and flour. I never followed up on its results either way via blog. But I can tell you that things went fairly well until a week-long trip to a cabin where meals were planned by a party of six. Not wanting to impose my strict "can't eat" rules talk on the group, four of them new to me, I decided to break out of the no-sugar/flour box and worry about it later. Ultimately, that "diet" didn't have staying power, but from it I learned just how enhanced our foods are.

So now, this year, after doing some quite possibly unnecessary research on the internets, I warmed to the idea of cutting sodium from my diet. As with the sugar/flour party, I am not removing it completely (I would die), just as much as I can. This has proved to be another eyeopener, although perhaps more so than last year. From fast food and fine dining, to many items at the grocery store, so much of what we eat has higher quantities of flour and sugar than seem necessary, and sodium is yet another factor.

To give some context, my quick and unprofessional research has given me the following guidelines: it is recommended that the average person's sodium intake nestles somewhere near 2300mg each day. This is the number the percentages on nutrition labels are based on. Extra-special sodium limiters place daily consumption goals at around 1500mg. But the average american's intake is well over 3000mg per day, often peaking around 8000mg (this is where cold hard facts come in handy, but who has the time to cite sources? Go to any "heart healthy/low sodium" website and they'll concur).

Sodium is a sneaky little ingredient that, based on its levels in items marked as healthy or lowfat, is conveniently being ignored and gets to scutter under the radar. Take Panera Bread Co. It's a healthy alternative to grabbing a burger or chicken fast-food meal, right? Pretty much wrong. Low-fat vegetarian black bean soup? 1590mg in a 13.25oz serving. Lovely! Smoked Turkey sandwich? 1650mg. What, what, what?!

I'm not blaming Panera specifically (although it does put a damper on their newly-opened location near our apartment). I'm blaming what seems to be our trend to compensate for lack of flavor by grabbing the salt and shaking it over everything.

The key is, of course, above all things, balance. As lovely as eating cake for breakfast, cheese and crackers for lunch, and meaty pizza for dinner would be (oh lord, yes), everyone knows it's probably a bad idea long term. But so would be eating nothing but unsalted rice cakes (which, thanks for asking, was indeed my lazy breakfast today. With saltless peanut butter! Wowza!) It is hard, however, to maintain balance when everyday foods are jam-packed with superfluous ingredients. If food companies making products such as meats and cheeses would lay off the salt or make their lower-sodium options more readily available, life for the no-salt consumer would be so much easier. And we might all be a bit better off.

Anyway, not meaning to be lecturey. It's a long answer to the question of why you may have publicly seen me lamenting the lack of flavor in my food lately. It's clear my tongue hasn't adjusted and I'm still not used to the slightly sweeter or blander taste that results when one takes an active stand against salt business. My goal is to start cooking fresher and more exquisite meals that don't require salt to make them taste satisfying. Wish me luck!

x Andrle x

{P.S. Salt! Just thought I'd throw one more mention of salt in for good measure. You know, in case you weren't already driven mad by the every-other-second mentions of it. Salt salt salt. Alright, now I'm done.}

I AM the Bird Whisperer

2011-07-15T13:33:00.015-04:00

As many of you know, about three weeks ago, I boldly and ever so permanently inked birds on my wrists.

Since then, I've slowly been coming to find that I am - brace yourself - a Bird Whisperer. You certainly laugh at such a statement, but I here and now present full evidence of these matters.

The realization of this first hit as the husby and I were walking from the train, fresh from our red-eye trip home from Boulder/Denver, where I had a few days prior been tattooed. Nearing our apartment, we noticed a bird in the street picking up a piece of plastic matter. As was documented by @UltraNurd in his tweet quoting me, in my groggy, 1.3745-hours-of-sleep-on-an-overnight-flight state, I mumbled, "No little bird! You don't want that, it's plastic!" The bird dropped the plastic to the ground. "He listened to me. I'm a bird whisperer!!!"

The clues have not always been as obvious or witnessed by others. Today, however, while enjoying a delicious sandwich and iced tea out on the plaza near my workplace, another bird-whispering item occurred. This time, my iPhone camera was handy to document.

Along came the bird. Here's a picture of the bird. I'd like to call the bird Winston.

Here is Winston being coy.

Winston reflected silently on his long, hard life as a bird.

I decided to give him a bit of bread from my sandwich. He seemed to like that. I waited a few minutes and then gave him a bit more. The second bit was apparently too much as he took longer to eat it and then flew away.

I sat, soaking up the sun in my dark-wash denim jeans. The day was clear and fine. The water on the reflecting pool of the plaza at work, which I sat across from this lunch time, waved lazily and shimmered in the light of the day. The three birds looked at me hungrily.

Wait, what? Three birds! It seemed Winston had spread the word of his bread bounty. Either that, or I had unwittingly summoned a crowd of birds. I had Bird Whispered them!

I gave neither these new birds, nor my old pal, Winston, any bread. It seemed unwise. And I had just finished my sandwich. They hopped about tweeting. Then started hopping about menacingly. More with threats at each other than at me. Whichever one was to get the bread did not seem likely to share. Another couple birds came over and sat on the other side of me.

I realized the situation I was in. I called upon my new-found Bird Whispering talents and, wordlessly, told them to chill out.

They chilled out.

So, as you can see, I'm clearly a Bird Whisperer. It's a skill I will hone. But it's pretty obvious, and pretty much exactly because of the bird tattoos. So far, my bird whispering talents seem to include communicating the following to birds:

Me:

Drop that, it's plastic!
I'm eating my lunch outside today and communing with nature. Join me, little bird.
You're cute. I'll call you Winston. Here's a crumb of bread.
Here's more bread. Go away now so we can both eat in peace.
You brought friends? I'm not naming you all.
You guys look angry. Go over there in the shade and talk amongst yourselves while I walk away. Peace out, bird dudes.

Because of my excelled bird understanding, I also can interpret the birds' thought processes and responses. Here are the following that correspond with the above.

Birds:

This is plastic. I don't want it. Is a bedraggled insane human talking to me?
That girl is eating a sandwich. I will go near her in case she drops something.
That girl gave me bread. I will stick around for more.
That girl gave me too much bread. Fly away to eat in case it's a cruel joke!
To his bird friends/enemies, "Here's the girl that gave me bread. She's a weirdo, you might be able to trick her into giving you some, too."
To his bird friends/enemies, "I will fight you for all the bread!!!"

With great power comes great responsibility. But I am armed with the tattoos that evidence my ability to handle this. I can't wait to see what happens when I get a vintage rocket ship and an elephant tattoo.

x Andrle x

What I Write When I Write What I Write: An Apology in Advance

2011-05-11T10:18:00.004-04:00

Dearest friends, family, people who happened to cross this blog:

I formally wish to apologize in advance for the flurry of random business that may or may not appear on this blog.

Last week I promised myself I would write (something) every day. The wording of my contract with myself was shady and sneaky, and the gist of it was that I was committing to writing every day for the REST OF MY LIFE. As a (wannabe) writer, this is not as tragic as the ALL CAPS may have implied I felt it was.

Anyway, the main point is: some of what I write might end up on this (or another - secret!) blog. It's not always going to be good. I'll try to screen it a little. But only a little, mind you!

That is all.

x Andrle x

"Nancy, I know it has been a while since I..."

2011-05-11T08:52:00.009-04:00

When riding the train to work this morning, I accidentally caught a look at the email the woman next to me was composing on her phone. All I processed as she whipped it around was the beginning of her note: "Nancy, I know it has been a while since I..."

What a cliffhanger! A while since you... what?!? My overwhelming curiosity regarding the remainder of that phrase would forever remain unsated, as the phone with the rest of the message was too far out of my natural line of eyesight. And train-riding etiquette indicates that, no matter how fun, blatantly staring at a fellow-passenger's phone screen is rude. Alas! I would forever be in the dark about what it had been a while since this stranger on the train had done, said, promised, enacted, or etc. that either directly affected or would interest this Nancy.

Like any good creative writing student of the past would do with such a prompt, my thoughts went into overdrive developing potential conclusions to that sentence. Many were implausible, assuming that the girl, OK, woman, next to me was instead a middle-aged man. Nonetheless, I list some here for you so you have some options to settle on in case the unknown original intention is eating at you as well.

Nancy, I know it has been a while since I...

...borrowed a dollar from you. It seems strange that I would even bear such guilt for having not paid you back such a seemingly measly amount. However, I am, as you know, the kind of person who is easily haunted by guilt. I keep worrying we'll run into each other and things will be awkward because I'll be worried you'll be wondering if and when I plan to pay you back. Anyway, I do plan to pay you back. Remind me to give you a dollar the next time we run into each other. Or, at the very least, let me buy you a drink to compensate. haha. OK, see you around. Bye.

- Jules.

...moved out of the apartment. I hoped things would not be weird between us. Ryan said he hoped you could forgive him... well "us" really, some time soon. So are you still mad?
OK, later.
Kate.

...have been having issues. But I have been doing better the last couple months. It was only just how weird last Friday was with Ben and his friends being total douche-bees and it totally crushed me that he gets to have so much going on for him while I'm stuck having nothing going on for me. It's like the world is on his side. I hate it. I hate him, you know?! But whatever. I know after I stormed out of the bar and you chased after me and asked if I was off my meds, I started screaming and crying, and that was bad. It's insulting to me though that you imply I should be on meds. I'm always fine. It's just that you always are asking about when I last talked about things with a "professional." Like a "professional" is the answer to everything, or a quick fix. Besides, the person I looked in to talking to is too far away to get to easily and then I'd always want to go to that Indian restaurant after therapy, because it's right there and it smells so good, but the last thing I need after having to talk about my problems for an hour is to go sit in a sit-down restaurant by myself and feel like a loser. It doesn't really matter. It's not like I plan to go there and sit there by myself. Whatever, what I'm trying to say is I'm tired. We should grab lunch today, OK?

...have been the kind of husband you expect me to be. I know quitting my job without even talking to you about it was not fair to you. I know it means you're stuck working at your job that you hate. But it means that I can be home with the kids and we don't have to take them to sit around doing nothing at the babysitter's every day. But you know I'm trying to find something new. I'm applying for things. I tried to tell you before you left this morning - I'm having an interview today - heading there now. I wish you wouldn't be so upset about the bills. Don't be angry when I get home tonight, OK? Hopefully I'll have good news.
Love - Mike.

...said we should get together. So how about we do it some time this week, OK? I'm totally free like every night this week except Friday and Saturday. I think I might have something going on tonight, but that would be a boring night to go out anyway. So want to do Thursday? We could get drinks or dinner or like, just hang out at my place or your place. Oh, and I totally have news. Big, big news! I'll tell you later, it's a huge secret for now. :o) :D hah! OK, so totally just let me know what day works for you. Hopefully Thursday. Love you, girl!
xoxoxo Stacy

...took that gig at the studio. I meant to hook you up with some work here, but I'm just not seeing that as possible yet. You have no idea the crazy politics you have to deal with in the acting business. Uuugggh. OK, I'll keep you posted! Come see me at the opening tomorrow night though, OK?

Ciao,

Myndi

...borrowed your red dress for that party. I keep forgetting to bring it to you. Here I am, sitting on the train, totally headed your direction. But do I have the dress in my bag? No! So I'm so sorry. I'll get it to you soon. Do you need to wear it? I'll get it to you!!!

...promised you that link to the video on YouTube. So here is is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_sfnQDr1-o OMG it's so funny! OK, happy Wednesday. Friday will be here soon!!! - Marissa.

...have been back in the U.S. It's been hard for me to readjust to life here. Europe was just so different. So exclusive. So smart and freeing. I guess maybe I was worried that if we got together too soon after my trip, it would be too much of a slap from reality that I'm back. Don't take this the wrong way, I just don't want to be back. It's not because of you. But you played such a huge role in my life as an American. Now I just want to relish in my life as a European. I know I'm not really European yet. But I plan to go back and work on getting my visa or whatever they call it. But ok, so if you want to get together some time, we could do that I guess. I just wanted to write to let you know that I heard through Bethany that you knew I was back in the "states" and you were pissed that I hadn't looked you up yet. It's not you, it's me. No wait... It's not you, it's America. Yeah.

Later,

Marco

Anyways, I will.

2010-10-29T17:39:00.004-04:00

A couple weeks ago I called my friend Carly Rose and left her a message. Unbeknownst to me, she uses Google Voice. Google Voice sent her this. The only way this transcript could have been any better is if they'd actually sent it typewritten. At CR's suggestion, I took matters into my own hands:

x Andrle x

"i haven't eyes for anyone else"

2010-10-17T18:38:00.009-04:00

A good omen.

Since I linked to Nick's blog about our engagement back in July, it seems appropriate to come in with an update on a particular part of the progress for the wedding.

I found my dress! Tada! What I expected to be stressful and painful and awkward ended up being a ridiculous amount of extravagantly-girly fun. Even though it was a little too much "everyone look at Andrle" for my comfort. Eek.

The morning started early at 5:30ish when Rebekah arrived at my apartment after her red-eye from Denver. What can I say - she's a trooper! After chatting and waking up my mom and all getting ready, we all journeyed to grab the yellow mini cooper I'd rented from Zipcar. We zoomed over to Nick's apartment, but not without a minor detour thanks to the ever-confusing roads on the Cambridge side of the river. Bah! When we arrived, we parked, met up with Nick and his mom and sister, and walked to brunch at the very hipster-vintage diner nearby. Despite waiting a ridiculous length of time due to some rude patrons dominating the larger booths well after having finished their meals (seriously! I was tempted to stare at them through the window to make them uncomfortable. But, sadly, I didn't), the brunch was ever so tasty. To top it off, my coffee just happened to arrive in one of their elephant mugs. ZOMG yes.

After brunch, we deposited Nick (and unfortunately his mom too, since I'd unwisely and unthinkingly reserved a rental with a teensy back seat, and there wasn't enough room for all five of us) at his apartment. Then, never mind the incident when the yellow mini cooper decided the red fire hydrant near Nick's apartment was attractive and rubbed its butt on it. (Yeah, yeah, eww, I know.) We drove over more winding north-of-Boston roads and arrived at the bridal shop.

I'm telling you. If you're in/near Boston and need a wedding dress, please give Precious Memories in Malden your business. They were amazing. Even though we arrived about fifteen minutes late thanks to the fire hydrant thing we're not talking about, the sales associates were kind and welcoming and put me at ease. Not to mention, the saleswoman assigned to me was a pro.

After browsing their selection and pulling quite possibly 12 dresses, we went into the fitting room, and she helped me dive into layer after layer of what seemed like thirty-pound dresses.

I shall say no more lest I give too much away, other than that the first dress I tried on was the one. Sure, I tried on about seven more. But in the end, it was perfect. It strays a bit from the standard wedding dress (not dramatically, but enough), and totally fits my style. Woot!

So peeps. That's about it. Yay I have a dress. One less thing to worry about!

x Andrle x

What do you mean, my "Rock Band" band isn't real?

2010-07-26T07:50:00.000-04:00

Via the McSweeney's Open Letter format

Dear Harmonix,

It has come to my attention, thanks to the intervention of friends and coworkers, that the dream you sell packaged as "Rock Band" is nothing but a bunch of deceiving and empty hype.

How dare you. How dare you deceitfully lead thousands on with your seemingly-realistic, strangely accessible world of rock fame. Time to live out my rock 'n' roll fantasy, eh? What you failed to explicitly mention is that it would still only ever be a fantasy, no matter how many times I score 100% or how well I hone my musical skills.

I am sure I'm not the only one out there who was mislead by a very deceptively-detailed pre-programed story line. So I represent all the silenced voices and shut-down egos when I ask the question: what do you mean when you say it isn't real!?

What is it about the option in the main menu to choose to go on tour that would not lead one to think they were touring remotely on their way to fame? What is it about displaying bumper stickers with my band name affixed to stop signs and providing encouraging helpful hints in wait screens that should lead me NOT to think I'm gaining real-life recognition?

You should know I agonized for hours over the best name for my band. I needed a title that would capture the hearts and interest of my future groupies, meanwhile looking good written in 90s-rock font on posters under my moodily-darkened silhouette. "Lady Overdose and the Infinite Zeppelin" was both edgy and engaging (and had to be abbreviated). Had that band ever actually debuted, success would have been inevitable.

I was one of the devoted many who practiced until my fingers went numb, tackling chords, note sequences, and solos all in the pursuit of promised rock-celebrity status. I had the ability to increase my popularity and gain more money by doing sets of two or more songs. I don't even want to think about how long I spent mastering the cursed orange key in an attempt to move from level medium to level hard to please more of those ever-elusive, ever-desirable fans. Yes, I took it personally when the crowd booed at me because I couldn't effectively flail my fingers with enough speed or master the complex rhythm of the expert level. But those tears of failure never would have been shed had I known it was merely a pre-recorded response.

Quite frankly, my feelings are hurt. If I'd known no one was watching, I'd never have spent so much time finding the right torso and leg accessories to perfectly feature my animated avatar's hot and virtually unachievable frame. I now live with the isolating knowledge that the multiple times I completely rocked the long and complex (but utterly satisfying) guitar solo in "Lazy Eye," my performance did not move thousands. It fell to deaf ears. When you told me it was an awesome or perfect solo and I had gained 560 new fans, all I was really gaining was a false sense of confidence and pride.

OK, sure. There were some signs that through counseling I am now learning I might have turned a blind eye to. It was crazy how my band mates were constantly changing. Fans still cheered me on even when a couple missed notes startlingly cut a void of silence into the track. No one was surprised or commented when I sought variety and suddenly switched from being an expert lead vocal to a beginning drummer. It seemed mildly infuriating that even with all my earned wealth as a musical entertainer, I could only ever put those funds toward specific outfits and an outrageous variety of new instruments. Not to mention how easy and free a change of paint on those instruments were.

You know, I was dismayed when my band went on tour to Europe and I had to stay behind playing remotely. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make as long as I was still dependent on my day job. It seems as if my aspirations to make it big and quit my current employment will never be realized. My life suddenly seems even more bleak than it had before - and for this, I blame you.

Sirs and madams at Harmonix, your company is in the business of selling false hope. I hope one day someone lets you down in some severe manner so you finally understand the miserable nag of failure and emptiness of lost dreams.

Yours sincerely,
Andrle Pence
Lead Guitarist, Bassist, Drummer, and Singer
Lady Overdose and the Infinite Zeppelin

Make it so!

2010-07-19T09:50:00.003-04:00

This post is a link to Nick's blog, where he formally announces (with photos!) our excellent news:
http://bit.ly/Makeitso

The (Imagined) Tales of Andrle vs. the Street Fundraisers

2010-06-17T17:10:00.020-04:00

Street fundraisers. If you live in a semi-populated area at all, chances are you've encountered them. You're walking down the street, innocently thinking about what you're going to make for dinner, and then, WHAM! You don't have enough time to reach for your cell phone to fake a call. There's too much traffic to cross the street. You're in a crowd of people, but you can see from the determined look of the fundraiser that he is focused 100% on YOU. His eyes widen a bit, his face takes on a generically friendly expression. You look around a little self-consciously. Then, feverishly, you try to think up all your best excuses. What worked the last time? But it's too late. He's greeting you like an old friend and asking if you have a couple minutes to learn about dying puppies. You imagine big puppy eyes looking at you in desperation asking merely for a couple minutes of your time and a couple bucks from your checking account each month for the rest of your life. You're trapped.

Here's the thing. While I'm sure I'll come off as biased against, I know there are pros as well as cons to the whole "street fundraisers" phenomenon. In general I assume these people are trying to spread the word about potentially important issues. Sure, it's not just out of the kindness of their hearts; they're being paid to do it. But can you blame them? Money's money. People (poor students) need jobs.

My problem is that, at least in Boston, they seem to be EVERYWHERE. I encounter them no matter what I'm doing. Walking to work. Walking around on my break. Walking home. Walking to the grocery store, to the gym, to the subway. And they always seem to single me out. I'm sometimes able to (not too obviously) evade them. Usually I get stuck. I've gotten decently good at knowing the right ways to get beyond their spiel, but sometimes I mess up and can't get out. The problem is, I'm not the kind of person who can be directly rude. I can't ignore them. I wouldn't flip them off. I don't want to make noises to block out what they're saying until I'm a safe distance away. They know there are nice people like me. They can probably tell, looking at my semi-friendly, girly face that I'm that kind of person. Blast.

The times I am roped into a conversation, I generally feel like it's an opportunity for the individual to grill me on how much I like the environment/children/ponies/etc. and for me to feel guilty because I don't have enough money to give to them, even though maybe I look like I do and am just being selfish.

Here's a sample, fairly-fictionalized interpretation of what's actually being said in these interactions:

Dude: You look like a friendly face! Do you have a moment for children?
Me: Uh, not right now, sorry.
Dude: (sneering) Don't you like children?
Me: No, I do! I just have to...
Dude: You pretty much hate kids, don't you?
Me: It's not that. I just have no extra money right n...
Dude: I noticed you're wearing nice clothes and you have a designer purse and your shoes made clicking sounds when you walked.
Me: Actually, that's just because these shoes are old and the soles are worn down.
Dude: Please! You spend your money on things for YOURSELF! Don't you want to set aside your self-indulgent nature and save CHILDREN!?
Me: That would be nice, but I honestly already give as much money to the world as I can right now.
Dude: (Looking disappointed, maybe accusatory, like I've just stolen bread from an impoverished child.) I'm sure you do. Have a nice day.
Me: ...

What's worse is when I actually am on my way to do something self-indulgent. Like buying coffee. I'm always petrified they'll see my purchase and reprimand.

Dude: WHAT IS THAT!?!
Me: Uhm, coffee?
Dude: You'd rather spend 5 bucks on bean juice than spending 5 bucks on CHILDREN?
Me: Actually, it was $3.05.
Dude: You know what, if you stopped getting coffee all the time you could totally save lives.
Me: How do you know how often I get coffee...?
Dude: Silence! If you stopped feeding your Americanized caffeine addiction, you'd have more funds for the world.
Me: But... I only get coffee once a week now...
Dude: Liar!

No one's actually called me a liar. But I've heard stories where the street fundraisers are pretty darn accusatory and rude. One time I actually took an alternate route back to the office when I had run out for lunch because I didn't want them to see me with my lazily-procured meal.

I did a bit of research mostly because I didn't know how to refer to them. Their general title is "Street Fundraisers" (which to me doesn't sound right - like it should be Street Fundraising Workers or something like that). But they've also been tagged with, what I consider to be fairly rude, the term "chuggers" which is "charity muggers" smooshed together. I'd like to avoid being that harsh and will stick to "street fundraisers" for lack of a better term.

I figured this occupation was not limited to Boston alone, and indeed, it's a far more global trend. The Guardian did a video piece taken on the streets of the UK that's pretty interesting: http://bit.ly/czZu59

To avoid further ranting, my issues, in brief:

The sheer quantity of street fundraisers plaguing the streets is overwhelming. Be it one or five different foundations, having them everywhere is just too much. One day I ran into no less than seven different fundraisers all for the same foundation, all within a three-block walk. I was "singled-out" by them three times.
I don't like having to explain to strangers that I don't have any extra money. Not only that, but that I already give what I can to various foundations.
Money shouldn't be the end-goal. If the primary goal is to spread the word about a cause, do that, but don't press me to give money I don't have. Do I have two minutes to listen about a global cause? Sometimes. Do I have two minutes to be guilted and talked out of my money? Never.

I've twice been "sweet-talked" into signing up on the street. The first: Greenpeace. Once I was signed up, they started sending way too much junk mail. And I wasn't really sure I was Greenpeace (or financially well-off) enough to send them money every single month. So I wrote and sent a nice letter and a month or so later was freed. The second: Children International. The dude who talked me into this would NOT take no for an answer. Talk about a pro (conman). It was rather unsettling. I even explained that I was moving into a more expensive apartment and didn't have any money budgeted for extras. His response was something about how we all find ways to shift money for the important things. Really? In retrospect, I'm kind of angered that I relented. A month later I realized I really couldn't afford it, and wrote an email explaining my support of the idea of their foundation, but my inability to continue making contributions. They responded politely and I was let out of the commitment relatively guilt-free. The terrible thing about this case though, is that about a month or two later, I was running out for lunch and that same man confronted me again. He talked his talk, and when he finally paused enough for me to say something, I told him I'd already signed up once but had had to cancel because it was too much. Then he looked pointedly at my really nice jacket and purse (I'm not kidding) with a face full of skepticism.

It's not like anyone's lives are being ruined by having to talk to strangers about whether or not they're willing to donate to a cause. It's just the frustration and endless nature of the whole street fundraising business. In an ideal world, the interaction would be few and far between, and would go smoothly. Something like this:

Dude: Do you care to hear about such-and-such?
Me: Thanks, but not right now.
Dude: OK, here's a pamphlet with more information. Have a great day!
Me: You too!

But I guess in an ideal world, we wouldn't have need for charities, because everyone would be fed, animals would be unharmed and happy, and human rights would be unoppressed.

Since I Wasn't Strange or Picky Enough Before...

2010-06-15T07:45:00.004-04:00

On June 4, 2010 (so serious!), I decided to stop eating sugar and flour. Aided by the ideas of the man, Dr. Gott, who wrote the book unsurprisingly titled, "Dr. Gott's No Flour, No Sugar(TM) Diet," I embarked on a new way of eating that fairly-dramatically altered my normal habits. I've been tossing around whether or not to share all the details on my blog. The over-analyzing detail-loving part of me won over, and, as you can see, it's happened. Now I shall endlessly analyze food and mention the words sugar and flour more than you ever cared to read. Hazah!

The idea seems simple enough. Eliminate empty calories by cutting out all sugar and flour. Since your body burns through sugar and flour quickly, it soon leaves you hungry again, leading to more food consumption - potentially that which includes even more empty calories. This is bad. So instead, you eat foods with better nutrients that digest slowly. And, technically, as a result you feel healthier (and your body potentially reflects this).

In theory, yay! In practice, it's a little tricky. Check the label on just about anything in your fridge or pantry and I bet you it has either some form of sugar or flour in it. Also, a lot of diets just cut out white/processed flours. For this one, corn flour, whole wheat flour, whole grain flour even, all are a big NO. If the word flour is listed, you can't eat it. Sugar in many forms, including even honey, is not OK. I'm still reading the book and hopefully that's explained better, but in the meantime, I'm avoiding them all.

The first thing I did after reading about fifty pages of the book was to purge and segregate foods in my kitchen. I tossed the really horrid stuff, gave some food away, and separated out the things that I couldn't toss, but that others could eat. It's worked well. In my cupboard, I keep the food I don't want to eat anymore in one half, and don't even open that part now. Then I set about avoiding flour and sugar more strictly than I've ever followed something before. It's been approximately a week and a half. Do I miss them? Let's examine.

Flour. What I miss the most right now is bread. But what I miss most about bread is less the taste and more the convenience. Need a quick meal? Grab a sandwich. Grab a bagel. Snack on a pastry. This is no longer allowed. In terms of floury things like pastas and crackers, I've found substitutes (rice noodles, plain Triscuits) that work well so I don't even think about the prior options. Flour tortillas were something I'd eat often, and now those are completely not allowed. But, I've found that my old aversion to corn tortillas has passed and I've been able to incorporate those instead. My only other outstanding concern: pizza. I love pizza. I have to find a way to still eat it!

Sugar. Before I get into my semi-pious "I don't really like sugar or sweet things anyway" spiel, let me admit that this morning, all I wanted was a tasty, sugary coffee-cake muffin. I mean, I seriously, immensely wanted that muffin. But, when I finally talked myself into going to Dunkin Donuts for an iced coffee a few hours later, I had already left the shop before I realized I had completely ignored the donuts and muffins. All last week (I mean... I never go there!) I passed by the pastry case at Starbucks and just got in the mindset of not needing or wanting anything - even the "reduced fat" coffee cake (notice a trend?!). Maybe that's what prepared me to stay strong today at the DD?

Anyway, sugar. In general, I was way out of the habit of adding sugar to cereal, coffee or tea, or anything of the like. So that wasn't a huge deal. I had already switched to diet soda a few years ago (I know, I know), and I no longer get sweet coffee-concoctions. But I used to always claim that I didn't like chocolates or sweets all that much anyway, but that's basically a lie. There are so many amazing shops in Boston/Cambridge that make scrumptious sweets, and I love them. Maybe in the future I'll make bi-monthly exceptions? For now though, at the beginning, I want to stay strong and be as strict as possible to form good habits. In the last 1.5 weeks, I've been faced with about FIVE different social situations where people were eating desserts and I had to refrain. It got easier each time, although I have to admit that when I was baking cupcakes for a going-away party for some friends, I might have "accidentally" eaten a bite or two of chocolate cupcake. Bite, bite, oops. And you know what? It was OK, but not amazing. I'll save my cheating for dark chocolate bits from Burdick's. Mmm!

But other than the obvious, stand out, "we are sugary-goodness" products and goods, there's the issue of all the hidden sugar content in things. Whether you know it or not, sugar is in practically EVERYTHING sold at the market. There are the normal foods that you'd expect: cookies (of course), pasta sauces, like 99.999% of all cereals. I'd also assumed sugar was in packaged meals, including the meat parts. But then there are the ones that surprised me. Refried beans (the canned kind, anyway), my old standby taco seasoning (onion, garlic, and chili powders on their own are fantastic - why does the packet even need added sugar?!), even low-sodium V8! Blast! It seems laziness is never rewarded completely.

Anyway, with a bit of attention to labels (although I don't want to become totally obsessed and no fun to be around), eating at home can be controlled and it feels manageable. But what about dining out? It should be a snap, right? Just eliminate the breads and you're all set? Wrong.

I don't often eat at all these places, but once in a while it happens, so here's the low-down on fast-food options.

Chicken sandwiches. In general, most chicken items are right out for the simple fact that they're breaded or covered in some sort of crispy-flour outer layer. At Burger King, the only "plain" chicken option was the Tendergrill Sandwich. But it's pumped with a bit of sugar, and another drawback is the insanely-high sodium content. I know I'm not banning salt, but 830mg in the chicken alone? Next. McDonald's and Wendy's are basically the same.

Hamburgers. Without the bun and condiments and maybe with some cheese (yes, please!), burgers are mostly acceptable. The exception: McDonald's offers a "100% Angus Beef" patty that might taste good (?) but is simply 100% gross. I found sugar listed twice, as well as molasses, corn syrup, maltodextrin, caramel color, dextrose, etc. Although, their regular beef patty has "no fillers, no extenders," and is seasoned with just salt and black pepper. In general, burgers at fast food restaurants are not ideal, but wouldn't kill me in a pinch.

Less fast-foody, local places like B.Good and Boloco are slightly different, better option. Can I eat there? Here's the scoop.

I've never tried B.Good's turkey or chicken sandwiches before (because the burgers are so darn good!) but they are hand cut and grilled, or house-ground and hand-packed, and I'd suspect either option without the bun would be good to go. The burgers are local, natural, house-ground. I'd be quite surprised if they added sugar to their meat. I hope they don't, since I ate one with lettuce as a bun just the other day. Still delicious! I didn't see the sign, but my friend did, and apparently you can substitute veggies for the bun. I bet there's a bit of an upcharge for it though, so I could probably just ask for no bun next time so I don't feel so tragically wasteful leaving the bun sitting there.

Boloco is not at all a burger joint (woohoo!), and a good place to opt for when dining out. Their wraps are little bundles of deliciousness. The "in a bowl" option eliminates my flour/sugar issues. And they have a variety of tasty ingredients including cheese, celery, romaine, black beans, etc.

Other mid-range chains like Au Bon Pain and Boston Market are places I RARELY go to, but are near my workplace/home. Since nearly everything at Au Bon Pain is bread or pastry, and their salads are too pricey and not tasty enough for me, I'm going to give ABP a general no. Boston Market might do if it had to. I could get plain protein and veggie sides.

Finer dining, depending on food type (Mexican proved to be a little hard) should be even less of a problem, since plain meats and vegetables are usually available. Or, as a last resort, opting for a salad sans dressing.

The thing about dining out is that I've been less inclined to do so now that I'm on this new eating plan. (My wallet and credit cards probably say thank you.) I used to always want to run out for lunch during work, and although I didn't always let myself do this, I did still go out more than I should have or needed to. Now I'm more excited to run home and make something that's tasty and allowed. I also noticed that, even though diet sodas (fake sugar!) are not off the list, I've still been gravitating toward iced tea or just water at restaurants (or at home) more often than the sodas. Wild!

Conclusion (of sorts): Even though I might not always avoid sugar and flour to such an extreme degree, I'm leaning towards sticking to it for quite some time. Realistically I understand that there will be times (over at someone's house for dinner, out at a place that simply doesn't have other options, etc.) where I will have to set my strictness aside. But trying to keep to it as much as possible within the realm of my control feels like the right thing.

Like any fad diet (although the Gott attempts to distance himself from the others), I'm sure there are some cons along with the pros. But as long as I'm experiencing benefits from it, I'll continue. I feel full for longer amounts of time. I don't feel grossly-full after meals. And seeing how much sugar (and flour) is hiding in nearly everything we eat these days was an eye-opener.

What I still need to do is not just eat things that are like non-sugar-flour cousins of what I used to consume; I should actually incorporate even more fruits and vegetables into my eating. I'll get there. Obviously, this means I've opted not to go vegetarian at this time, or even to cut out dairy. At this point, I'm still adjusting to finding food options that work with the above restrictions. Perhaps as I get more comfortable with everything, the shift to more veggies and fruits will occur naturally, and I'll find better protein and nutrient options. I wouldn't want to give the impression (as I'm sure it seems based on my dining out options listed above) that I'm just going to sit around gnawing on meat all the time. Oh yum.

I probably won't update as to my progress on this, since it's more of a general "this is what I'm doing," and "did you realize you were eating all that sugar?!" sort of post. Hopefully I didn't annoy any of the "but I freaking LOVE sugar, what's your issue?" readers. Go sugar! Go flour! They're just not for me. For now.

x Andrle x

hold on tight

2010-06-08T08:29:00.000-04:00

Although I feel the "I'm on a boat" bus parody ("I'm on a bus" boat parody?) was a justified post (I find that thing STILL in my head), I do also feel the need to move that profanity-laden puppy lower down on the blog page. Probably not the best first impression I could possibly make. Even so, I didn't want to post needlessly.

Then I found a draft in my blog posts folder wherein I instructed my future self to expound on a thesis regarding movies and recycled actors. Sure, past self. I can do that.

A few weeks ago, I was strolling down Huntington Ave on a work break for... uhm... maybe coffee (ugh, I'm a predictable addict now), thinking regular random thoughts and pondering life. For a reason unbeknownst to me, it popped in my head that I should write a story where a side detail (maybe not the main focus, but somehow incorporated in the quirky world therein) was that films would only ever cast "unknown" actors. Or rather, in less complicated parenthetical mumbo jumbo, an actor could only be in one film. Ever. Act one character once in a film and you're done.

You might be wondering why this is relevant or how it could even be necessary in a story. Well, for what it implies, I suppose. Imagine going to a movie and not being presented with an ensemble of actors you've already seen in countless other roles. Instead, you go to see a film with a bunch of strangers acting out their parts. The whole element of having to forget who the actor is as a person and the other roles they've done would be gone, and you could go straight into the process of being absorbed in the film. There'd be a whole new realm of realism.

The choice of whether or not to see a movie would be based on how interesting the plot is to you, and not as strictly determined by a previously-conceived opinion about the leading or minor actors. Would celebrity worship be all but naught?

But despite potential benefits, there would be definite losses. It would be less of a challenge for actors. They'd need only be completely invested in one character ever and then they'd be done. And how then would the audience pick out the really good actors? After all, isn't the sign of a great actor in our present reality their versatility and the variety of films they're in and roles they take?

I don't need to list off actors who I feel are always the same from film to film. Or, those sad typecast folks who it seems haven't done anything to (or haven't been able to) break out into something new. You all know plenty, I'm sure. Limiting those actors to one role would eliminate that issue. Maybe the idea that it's their one and only time to shine and give it their all would mean extra-earnest acting. Or maybe it would lead to overacted, soppy jobs.

This is a bleak alternate reality. No one with a passion for acting could ever make a career out of it. Maybe it's our future and some creepy governmental rule has, in an oppressive and unthoughtful move, made this jurisdiction in a so-called attempt to even out the classes. How perfect for a science-fictiony dystopia!

That's all I've got. Pros? Cons? Irrelevant? Weak?

x Andrle x

I'm on a bus and it's going fast and...

2010-05-31T16:09:00.003-04:00

This weekend was a trip to NYC to visit my friend for her birthday and the holiday. Cheap as I am, I took the bus instead of the ridiculously-priced Amtrak. Accidentally, I ended up listening to The Lonely Island's "I'm on a boat" - and also sooo accidentally I ended up parodying it in my head. Of course that turned into typing it out painstakingly on my phone's touchscreen. And now, three days later on my return bus trip, accidentally posting it to my blog.

So, some disclaimers before I send you to the land of bus-related lyricing. Firstly, I'm sure there are typos, given my lack of touchscreen talent. Second, as it is a nearly exact copy of the original, expect profanity. There's an abundance of motherfuckers below. Just sayin'. So if you listen to the real version (or already know it), you'll pobably understand better. I'm done with warnings! Here it is in all it's tragicness.

I'm on a Bus

Aw, shit, get your luggage ready, it's about to go down. Everybody in the place hit the fuckin' line, but stay on your motherfuckin' toes. We runnin' this. Let's go.

I'm on a bus. I'm on a bus. Everybody look at me cause I'm ridin' on a bus. I'm on a bus. I'm on a bus. Take a good, hard look at the motherfuckin' bus.

I'm on a bus motherfucker take a look at me. Straight ridin' on a bus on the pavement sea. Bustin 50 mph, hair blowing in the breeze. You can't stop me motherfucker cause I'm on a bus.

Take a picture, trick. I'm on a bus, bitch. Drinkin' diet Mt Dew 'cause it's so crisp. I got no swim trunks, but got my flippy floppies. I'm eating crunchy chips; you at home straight watchin' reruns.

I'm surfin' on free wifi, sendin' emails and shit. iPhone's multitasking, letting me tweet and edit. But this ain't my apartment, this as real as it gets. I'm on a bus motherfucker, don't you ever forget.

I'm on a bus and it's goin' fast and I got a GAP-themed bus-ridin' outfit. I'm the queen of the world, on a bus like Leo. If you in a car, then you're sure not me, oh. Get the fuck up, this bus is real.

Fuck trains, I'm on a bus motherfucker. Fuck platforms, I climb stairs, motherfucker. I'm in a row with my boys motherfucker. The bus engine make noise, motherfucker.

Hey ma, if you could see me now, arms crunched in on the two-seater row. Gonna fly this bus to the moon somehow. Like Kevin Garnett anything is possible.

Yea. Never thought I'd be on a bus. It's a big black asphalt road. Yea. Construction workers, look at me, ooh. Never thought I'd see the day, when a big bus is comin' my way. Believe me when I say, I see highway mermaids.

I'm on a bus. I'm on a bus. Everybody look at me cause I'm riding on a bus. (whooa) I'm on a bus. I'm on a bus. Take a good, hard look at the motherfuckin' bus.

crispy, crispy

2010-05-20T20:21:00.005-04:00

Image.

Seeing Eye Dog (what is essentially another Starbucks post)

2010-05-14T10:39:00.009-04:00

For all the chatter I put up on here about Starbucks, you'd think I was a card-carrying member. Oh wait, I kind of am. Gold Card! Ehem. OK, so you'd think I held stock. Or marketed for them. Now there's a good (bad) idea!

Today is Friday, and as such, I treated myself to the usual Americano (yes, I'm aware that I appear to be an addict) and a happy-Friday-to-me-plus-I-ran-out-of-time-for-breakfast-'cause-I-couldn't-get-moving-this-morning cinnamon coffee cake. I walked to the good Starbucks and paused in the entrance as I finished a phone call. In that minute or so, a blind woman and her Seeing Eye dog passed me and entered the building.

She was just in front of me when I got in line. I had to fight the urge to pet her insanely-well-behaved dog (it looked so cute just sitting there nicely and patiently in the Starbucks line). It wasn't the first time I've considered what it might be like to live in the city or attend college with the extra challenging element of being blind. I wondered if someone previously had to help her find her way to the counter (surely seeing eye dogs can get you places and keep you from being run over in traffic, but they can't interpret the purpose of your entering a building (i.e. take you to the counter to order), or can they?).

She stated her order and the man behind the counter smiled, put the cup on the counter and said, "it's already set!" She laughed, "you made me say all of that first?" And he responded, "I wanted to make sure I'd gotten it right."

Just as I was internally debating if it was easier for someone who is blind to pay for things via credit card or cash, she pulled out her wallet and felt for the cash. I immediately noticed how organized her wallet was. Where my wallet's numerous slots hold various cards and photographs and slips of paper and receipts, hers remained cleanly empty. Her wallet was for cash and coin and nothing else.

The Starbucks woman handed her the change, paused, and then handed her the bills, stating clearly how she had ordered the currency so the girl knew. She then waited for the wallet to be put away, scooted the cup so the girl could grab it, and passed her a pastry bag.

Maybe I'm just feeling overly mushy, but I was touched by how kind (but not overtly so. They were not sickeningly babying) the Starbucks staff was to this patron. I felt a little mesmerized, observing how smoothly and nicely the whole interaction had gone. Then I snapped back to reality when the man asked me for my order. Hopefully I didn't come off as one of those crazy people who fixates on the disabled. I should have said, "oh, don't worry. I'm not being rude, I'm a writer. My job is to observe!" I think the guy knows me well enough, since I tend to frequent... I mean, what? I'll now distract you with Seeing Eye puppies!

Happy Friday. Happy weekends to you all!

x Andrle x

typewritten 1.0

2010-05-13T21:03:00.001-04:00

Excluding this disclaimer, the entirety of this blog entry shall be images- mostly of typewritten materials. If it makes no sense to you, you're probably missing the photographs. Hopefully you can make adjustments.

nothing wrong with eating lunch at 4pm, right?

2010-04-19T15:58:00.000-04:00

In light of all those Boston Marathoners crossing the finish line after running 26-some-odd miles today, it would be groovy if I could do some snazzy parallel crap and go on about all my own personal finish lines I've recently crossed. Instead, I'm making the announcements that:

I'm quitting Script Frenzy.
I'm going back to my novel.
I'm not quitting the GRAWP, even though I'm desperately behind.

I could add to that that I'll probably be eating PB&J for lunch at 4pm because I keep putting off grocery shopping out of cheapness. And that I'm using one towel (my head hosts thick hair that requires its own towel for maximum post-shower effective dryness) right now because I'm too lazy to go to the laundromat across the street and properly wash the mass of used towels that have stockpiled in the last couple months. But where would be the fun in letting everyone know how much of a slacker I am? Oh wait.

So back to the others. The reasons I'm quitting Script Frenzy are as follows: I'm not at all passionate about the script I've started. There's probably time to start a new one and still make the deadline, but I'm not feeling the love for the script/screenplay format. I've been finding myself getting bogged down by formatting issues, confusion around phrasing, etc., and that wastes time and distracts from the actual writing of content.

What I love about writing is being descriptive and using diction to paint a beautiful canvas (so cliche, I couldn't resist! bwahaha!). What I'm finding restrictive about the screenplay is that 90% of what would transfer from my writing to the final assumed product (a movie) is the dialog. I like writing dialog. I think it's awesome fun. But I also love writing that other stuff. A lot more.

So I made the decision today (after brief conversations last night with @UltraNurd and this afternoon with @gingersquints) that I'm quitting Script Frenzy - GUILT FREE. I'm going to channel my writing ambitions into blogging, twittering (what? it's writing, right?!), and getting back into my novel. My novel! I think what I started back in November is 50,000 words of potential greatness. Sure, in the back of my head I pretend it could some day be made into a movie. But now I know I sure wouldn't volunteer to translate it from novel into screenplay.

The other part, the GRAWP/reading project, is hardly worth mentioning, but I'll just say that I'm moving forward and not quitting just yet. I will continue to read and anything I get to this year will be awesome.

I feel like this blog has become a place to rant my justifications for why I'm falling behind on goals or opting out of them. That may be, and I would be utterly disappointed in myself if I didn't also know that so far this year I've been making all sorts of other progress. I am writing more than before, AND sending stuff in for publication (and I'm learning how to be OK with rejection letters, as they come). I'm reading lots of content (if not books, blogs, more web articles, etc.). I'm hitting the gym (although not today; the whole aforementioned Marathon thing makes me feel lazy. Not to mention, my gym is located right at the center of where all the finish-line hubbub dwells). I'm making important decisions for my life and doing it because I feel excited about where things are going.

Off to lunch!

x Andrle x

On the eve of resurrection, I commit (insect) murder with a baseball bat

2010-04-04T02:32:00.007-04:00

If you dislike tales of murder, insanity, or bugs, I beg you not to read this tragedy.

Today, after arriving home from having enjoyed an afternoon/evening of egg decorating, dinner, game-playing, and story-sharing with friends, I entered my apartment and innocently began to prepare for bed. As I was going about my business, I kept hearing a strange buzzing. Finally, I looked over near one of my lights and saw what at first I thought was an enormous bee. It wasn't; I think it was just a ridiculous moth, but it buzzed around my head a few times, producing some pathetic screams from me, and then settled on the light fixture. Thus began the nearly two-hour saga of Andrle vs. Devil Bug, Insect from Hell.

I turned my back to it for but a wee moment to sit on my couch, and then the buzzing stopped. Curious, I checked on it. The bug was not in the fixture. It wasn't anywhere I could see. I worried it had landed on me, but then finally wondered if it was dead. It had been acting rather frantic and I hoped maybe it had been near death. Although I wasn't pleased that it had chosen my apartment for it's final destination, I was slightly relieved when I saw (what I thought was) its lifeless body on the shelf behind my TV. Not having the energy to take care of it at that moment, I decided to handle it in the morning.

I got into bed, figuring I'd check some emails and work on my screenplay (for Script Frenzy!) for a little bit while settling in. I turned off the other lights in the apartment, got under covers, and started to type. Since I was playing music, I didn't immediately notice when, roughly thirty minutes later, the beastly bug began buzzing again - this time right near my head. I screamed what probably sounded like bloody murder, practically shoved my dog off the bed (he had unintentionally trapped me under the covers, keeping me next to the bug of doom), and ran to turn on the bedroom overhead light. Buzz, buzz, buzz. The Evil Moth-ish Bug (EMB) (Devil Bug, et al, sounded too extreme) flew quite quickly up to the new source of light, making sure to come teasingly close to my face a few times en route.

Once it had settled, I sat in bed trying to figure out how to get rid of the thing. I guessed if I left a light on in the other room, eventually it would lure the EMB away from where I wanted to be sleeping. But what would keep it from returning to attack me in my sleep? So I left the bedroom, turned off those lights, and provided a tempting source of light in the living room. After ten minutes, it still hadn't moved. I returned to the bedroom and found it was still happily chillin' there. I turned on the light, poked the light fixture. Very little movement from the EMB. Tapped my finger directly underneath it. No movement from EMB. Twisted the fixture. Zero EMB reaction! I figured maybe I could encase the light in a plastic bag and trap the darn thing that way, but the bag didn't quite fit well around it while it was secured on the ceiling. So, balancing even more precariously on the far edge of my bed, I unscrewed the fixture and slowly tried to place it in the bag. EMB must have been sleeping, because it took it a while to react and it wasn't until the glass bits pressed it into the plastic that it started to buzz again.

You might think that the worst part is over, but it really just gets more tragic at this point. You'd think my embarrassment at handling this so badly would keep me from blogging about it. For some reason I thought it would be cathartic and good writerly practice to type my account and share it for all to read. I might regret it later.

I seriously spent a good five minutes with a mini wooden baseball bat (my strange gift from a white-elephant gift exchange last Christmas) hitting at a plastic bag that contained the unfortunately broken light fixture (it was more fragile than I anticipated, and when I put down the bag semi-hastily on the kitchen floor, the whole one side of it smashed) and the occasionally angrily-buzzing EMB, every-so-often pulling out another plastic grocery bag from my cabinet to re-bag the contents I'd been smashing - convinced the bug might still be alive and find its way out. Don't think the insane run-on nature of that last sentence wasn't on purpose. Perhaps the torture of it left you as distraught as I am now thanks to the EMB.

So, to ensure you get the whole picture: There I was. Mini-baseball bat in hand. Poking and hitting at fixture-glass and bug contained in several plastic grocery bags. This is a new low.

This is also probably a candidate for the most brutal killing of an insect ever. My squeamishness and not wanting to come into contact with the bug resulted in my destroying it in an even more vile way than if I'd just otherwise collected it and squished it. I'm aware that the most humane dealing would have been to lure it outside and let it live (so that it can just find its way back inside my apartment again? No thank you!) but I didn't really know how to make that happen. In any case, epic, epic failure on my part. I like to think I'm adult and have handled living on my own the last seven months without tragedy, but tonight I feel as though only a skittish child would have reacted the way I did.

My hair brushing against my neck and shoulders and my pajama pants dusting my feet and ankles keep tricking me into thinking they're the revived and freed bug, back for revenge. I'm exhausted and sleep-deprived. I'm going to bed, this time hopefully to sleep.

Happy Easter.

x Andrle x

How to be a Proper Lady at All Times ...

2010-03-30T14:42:00.008-04:00

... is not the title of any book I'm currently reading. In fact, you could hardly say I'm reading any books at all right now. More like perusing. In a very lazy fashion.

In any case, I'd like to update you with two pie charts that you can consume in whichever manner you'd like. I hereby present to you, Pie One and Pie Two: (click for larger)

Pie One is a sad, untasty pie. Pie One shows a rough, sad, and pathetic approximation of how many pages I have read thus far in the great year of 2010. Pie One's "read" slice is so thin, it would hardly satisfy the cravings of a real pie eater.

Pie Two is a yummier-looking piece of "read," now isn't it? Too bad that's not where I am. Wait! I'm actually going to say that Pie Two's "read" piece is so big it could almost be considered greedy. Why, that's nearly one fourth of the whole pie! (Never mind the fact that we're nearly one fourth of the way complete with 2010. Eugh.)

In case you're wondering what sort of scrumptious fiction, non-fiction, and other filling has gone into that measly "read" slice in Pie One, here are a few of the books I'm working on reading (by which I mean, they've been bookmarked around page 27 and are on a random side table pretending to be freshly being read):

Wuthering Heights
Dear Old Love
The Year's Best Science Fiction: 25th Annual Collection
Isaac Asimov Presents The Great SF Stories 01: 1939

So there. You can now note that I'm not really being a proper lady who reads. I'm just a silly girl who talks more about reading than I actually read. Ah well. If you want to learn how to be a proper young lady, unrelated to books in particular, you can read all about it here. I highly recommend it, especially the bits about allowing yourself to shower as long as you want. I mean, need. Need.

In other news, inspired by all that was accomplished in 2009's NaNoWriMo, I've gone ahead and, in a moment of insanity, signed up for Script Frenzy for the month of April. I'll be attempting to write a 100 page screenplay in 30 days. I'm more optimistic about my chances of completion in this round than in the NaNoWriMo I actually did complete, but I think that's only because this 100 pages of script sound so much easier for some reason. Let's not think about the fact that I've never attempted script/screenplay writing ever before. Anyway...

Onward!
x Andrle x

mini-bits of updated matter

2010-03-09T21:21:00.007-05:00

While I'm certainly still open for additional comments, I want to thank those of you who already piped in. Here's my new-and-improved plan of attack for the GRaWP 2010:

Page count goal for 2010: 20,000
Pages read thus far: 1,858
Pages to read: 18,142

And of course I'm including a tasty pie chart visual.

As you can see, I still have far to go, but I am encouraged by this new setup. It not only allows me to read giant books without hesitation, but lets me feel that I'm allowed to quit a bad book at any time - those pages read still count for something. hazah!

Onward with the business,
x Andrle x

the awful truth

2010-03-01T14:47:00.010-05:00

You know what time it is? It's confession time. Not like a religious, "you sit in that box, I'll sit in this box and let you know the dirty things I've done" sort of confession. That's never going to happen. It's more of an "I'm lazy and failing and here's my chatter about it" sort of confession.

So here it goes: I want to give up on the Great Reading and Writing Project of 2010. I know you're thinking "quitter!" - but before you throw stones and cast judgment, I want you to hear my side of the story. Actually, I want you to also make me hear your side of the story. Meaning: I'm writing this blog post as a plea for help! If you think the project is worth while, I want you to convince me of it. If you don't think it's worth while and want to let me know why, please do. You can comment on this post or just send me a little email (moontickets@gmail.com) or chat with me in person if that's an option. Will you do that for me?

Assuming you even care at all (this is kind of boring, I can admit), here are the pros and cons and new ideas mixed together in a stream-of-consciousness-esque bullet list of confusion:

I think I've read fewer books so far this year just because I have the seemingly-great and frightening burden of *125 books in twelve months* hanging over my head. Here's probably why: I've never responded well to someone in authority saying I absolutely had to read something within a certain time. Like in school, when a teacher said "read the first 30 pages of To Kill a Mockingbird by TOMORROW," my internal indignant cry was, "no, I will not!" It's not that reading 30 pages in one night was at all hard to do. It was that I didn't want to read it just then when I was being told to. I find it hard to get into a book if it's being forced upon me by the man! Eventually (the night before the entire book needed to be finished) I would read it all. But not happily.
I realize that in this case I guess the (wo)man to blame is myself and my silly little ambitious GRaWP business. Moving on.
I don't actually think I'm a rebel and that that's cool. I just think I'm cranky.
I resort to other activities in a form of avoidance of the project. Such as TV shows via the internet or uhm, taking a nap. Hmm. Maybe this means I need more self control. Or maybe it means if I dump the entire project right now, I'll end up reading and enjoying more books by the end of the year than I would otherwise.
Maybe I need to stop being sassy and lazy and just read.
The ultimate goal of this whole thing is to read lots of interesting stuff and to make it a practice. It can't all be about speed, but there should be some element of discipline involved, shouldn't there?
Should I change the GRaWP 2010 to just see how far I can get? Be it 50, 75, 99 books? One per week?
It was suggested by @UltraNurd that I change the book goal to a page goal. I think, if I stick with the GRaWP at all, I will indeed transition to a page count goal (maybe 20,000 pages? 30,000 pages?), thereby allowing for enjoyment of longer books with less pressure.
Again, maybe I need to hold myself accountable and reach my goals. NaNoWriMo last year was an ambitious project, but I made it. And the result at the end of November was 50,000 words of material I now have the luxury of shaping into an actual piece of fiction. That's like a gift!

I've got no more. I'm not sure that was a good idea. Even so, there it is. There's the awful truth about Andrle and her complex with authority and her laziness. Respond if you want to.

Until next time,
x Andrle x

A Great Day for Bananafish. I mean, Starbucks. Fish.

2010-02-24T09:56:00.010-05:00

Gosh, I love torrential rain! Right now it's amazing outside. I wish I could take the day off and frolic in the mile-wide puddles at intersections. Bathe with the fishes in the newly-birthed seas in indented sidewalks. Roll in the muddy grass patches that are still recovering from the last snow.

OK, now I'm exaggerating once again. (You might have noticed this trend in my blog?) It's simply not raining that hard. My rain experience was probably intensified by the decision to forgo an umbrella this morning and rough it with just the hood of my jacket protecting my head from extra moisture. While this worked, it certainly left me feeling like a drenched rat. Especially thanks to the ever-stylish fur business that fringes my hood.

But a valid issue here is that Boston's street and sidewalk drainage is inefficient; especially in the winter months. Years past, the problem was usually that snow and ice had blocked the drains, leaving the melty bits on top, or any rain that came, having nowhere to drain. The result: massive flooding issues. Not a good deal. Today I don't think that's so much of an issue as that, well, the drains in Boston just seem to be insufficient or clogged or something. Spring rains often result in the same floodage that makes pedestrians wonder how the heck they can possibly hop over six feet of deep water to cross the street. I digress.

I know what you're thinking, those of you who know how close I actually live to work. So I'll have to come clean and admit that my journey today was extended by my own selfish decision to stop at Starbucks on the way. After sufficiently drenching my small dog during his morning walk (even with a rain jacket (yes, dog rain jacket), he was one soaked little pup), I decided it would be great fun to make my once-weekly Starbucks run (I might be cheating this week) on the way to work. It's my own fault my time in the rain was multiplied by at least 2.4. Yay.

Anyway, here we get to the crux of this post. Walking through the rain, grande americano successfully acquired and sloshing nicely in (and out of) cup, my thoughts suddenly flashed to a myriad of scenes from movies where someone, usually the main actor, is in line at a Starbucks, waiting waiting waiting to order, then leaving with a coffee in each hand, quickly navigating past the other walkers on the sidewalks.

I don't have issue with that representation, although I do think that usually the Starbucks in the big cities in which these are often filmed have a better handle on early-morning rushes than lots of the smaller ones. The lines probably aren't that big of a deal, but what do I know? My part of Boston isn't that full of early-morning professionals. Usually there are a few, but the mix is just college students who come in at various times.

But what big city doesn't have rain? Boston, New York City, Chicago, Seattle: RAIN. If they really wanted to represent the downtrodden assistant-to-some-bigwig, they'd not only make them collect their coffee, but they'd make it rain! A lot!

I suppose they save rain for the moody, "we're reflecting on whatever just went bad in the last ten minutes that ruined whatever we had going awesomely for ourselves the 45 minutes prior" scene. Which is fine. But I think if they wanted to show just how bad getting coffee for their boss is, they'd add rain to the mix. Hey, not to mention, those drinks would spill a LOT more. Of course, that would probably require the cups to actually have liquid in them. Hmm.

I better go before I rant about how much, despite my great enjoyment of the show, the one thing that would always make me sad about Gilmore Girls was how they'd swing their cups around after they'd just gotten coffee from some place. Spillage! Your drinks are splashing and burning your hands! No? OK, no. I think I only think of these things because I'm so bad at keeping all of my own beverage in the cup. Maybe it's jealousy? Oops.

So anyway. Movies. Coffee. Rain. Let's combine those elements. I suppose that would make a truly drab opening sequence though. I don't know, I don't make movies. I just watch them.

Salutations on this rainy Wednesday. I hope you're a fish.

x Andrle x

"Maybe there's a trapdoor under my chair, and I'll just disappear."

2010-02-22T11:35:00.009-05:00

Greetings!

I hereby submit a mid(ish)-February update on The Great Reading and Writing Project of 2010. Firstly, a warning at my attempt to acronym-ize the project: GRaWP 2010. Yep. Grawwwp. It doesn't entirely work, but neither does the project, so I'm going with it.

Well, it seemed earlier this weekend like the GRaWP 2010 was going to be a failure. But thanks to a weekend day well-spent reading my eyes to death, I'm relatively back on track and excited that I might still make my deadline. For your consideration, here is my pathetically-low "Read in 2010" book-count chart (you may need to click on the image for a better view):

Yes, you see that I have read but a mere NINE books thus far. Slacker. However, as it is still relatively early in the game, the time-allotment for each book still hovers at around 2.64 days. Not too bad, as this number was simply closer to 3 when the project started. If this were September, I'd be needing to read a book every 0.79 days. Let's consider for a moment the fact that I need to sleep.

Personally noted: Reading on a regular schedule needs to start, should I desire to meet this goal and do so while retaining whatever sanity I currently possess. Unless I decide again to insert fast-reads such as graphic novels into this plan, I'll probably not recover again so easily. Here's a tasty pie chart of what I've read to show you just what I mean.

Also Noted: I've cheated a bit on the rules. Especially, the one that stated I must read only one book at a time. I cheated but once: the most unfortunate passing of J.D. Salinger prompted me to interrupt the reading of the droll and horribly-constructed Dead Until Dark and consume the delightful Franny and Zooey. Once I'd again read the deliciousness that is Salinger, it was nearly impossible to go back to the vile DUD (oh! Dud! I'm delighted that's so applicable!) vampirey novel. If I could footnote, I would, but I can't - and I know this isn't a review on the book, but let's just say that I wasn't particularly drawn in by an account of a supposedly dreamy hot vampire, mixed with mind-numbing descriptions of the main character's wardrobe and hairstyle choices every four pages, all recorded in an unrealistic character narrative (the author is a southern woman in her 50s. Sookie reads like a southern woman in her 50s, delighted to be in the attractive body of a woman in her 20s). If I wanted to read a poorly-written vampire novel with the author's personal agenda thinly veiled in that of a young woman desired by the hottest vampire man of all, I'd reread Twilight.

No I wouldn't. Once was enough. For the record, I'm not saying I could write a better vampire novel... like, in my sleep or anything.

Anyway. I've sidetracked horribly.

As for the writing component of the GRaWP 2010: I've done essentially nothing. Nothing! Here's a look at those stats:

Conclusion: While this looks immediately like a fail, I'm going say that it's still early and not such a tragedy. Also, I'm wondering if I should amend the rules of the GRaWP 2010 and exchange a proposed word count instead of page count. Page count is so wishy-washy and cheatable. Word count is far more SOLID!

Update on commitment to project: This Friday = my first day off devoted to read, read, reading. What is vacation for, after all, if not to recoup and get back on track with personal goals. Very excited.

Good day all.
Andrle

*Title quotation excerpted from J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey

The Woes of an Andrle: A Flash Non-Fiction Screenplay

2010-02-17T13:53:00.003-05:00

It will become apparent why I'm not a screenwriter soon enough.

Scene: A Starbucks in "the City." Slushy outside weather. Our heroine has just ordered beverages for herself and a coworker and is quietly waiting to pick them up when she overhears a conversation behind the counter.

Mean Starbucks Guy 1 (to Mean Starbucks Guy 2): How do you say this name?
Mean Starbucks Guy 2: I don't know.
MSG1: Did you even write it down right?
MSG2 (to Andrle): Hey, spell your name again.
Andrle: Andrle? A-n-d-r-l-e.
MSG1: That doesn't even look like a name. It looks Asian or something.
Andrle: ...well, there are a lot of consonants all together...
MSG1 (handing Andrle her coworker's beverage): Here's the Hazelnut Latte.
Andrle: Thanks.
Andrle waits.
Enter Nice Starbucks Guy from behind the espresso machine.
Nice Starbucks Guy (politely): How do you pronounce your name again?
Andrle: Andrle (Ann-der-lee).
NSG (hands Andrle her Americano): Andrle, I hope to have the pleasure of writing your name on a cup many times.
Andrle: Thank you.

Andrle walks awkwardly to the other counter and adds milk to her Americano. She departs into the windy cold, beverages in hand.

End scene.

The Great Reading and Writing Project of 2010

2010-01-05T15:56:00.008-05:00

A serious writer must also be a serious reader. One who does not read can not create. I found that idea somewhere a few months ago, and I wish I could find the exact quote. But it spoke to me not only about my laziness as a writer (which I've recently been working to improve) but also as a reader.

My Goodreads.com "currently reading" and "to read" categories total 177 books. This is a large number of works when compared to the shameful total of 92 books I have marked as "read" since joining the website in April 2008. Of the 92, only a mere 38 were actually read in 2008 and 2009. Thirty-eight!? In two years?! Unacceptable. Seeing this as indicative of laziness and a serious call to action, I developed the insane and unoriginally-dubbed "Great Reading and Writing Project of 2010." Below are the details of this proposed undertaking.

The Reading Component:

The goal is to read 125 books between today, 2010.01.05 and midnight on Friday, 2010.12.31. This could turn out to b e a major New Year's Eve party killer. :oP
Anything goes: Graphic Novels, "Classics," Chidren's Books (although few and far between), etc. If it's bound and printed and in my hands (and not a magazine), it's a book and I'm reading it. Note to self: find some easy reads. ;)
New books can be added to the list at any time. My tentative list/order can be found by checking out my goodreads profile and finding the "to read" section. Sort by order if it's not already done that way for you. The first 20 or so are about right. The others will be rearranged as they work their way upward on the list. I've also started a "2010-reading-project" folder, so you can check out my progress, should you be so inclined. And of course, the "currently reading" label, which I'm vowing to keep to one book at a time. Which brings me to the next step...
Read but ONE book at a time. I know this will be the greatest challenge of all. What often keeps me from completing books is that I get all excited and start about seven at the same time - then hardly ever complete them all. Especially problematic is when I put about ten books on hold at the library and then they all come in at the same time. So, I'll try not to do that from now on.
Track pages read in some ongoing manner (not currently easily tracked on Goodreads.com, but easy enough to spreadsheet up on my own).

The Writing Component:

For every 50 pages I read, I must write one page original story/poem/etc. content. Surely this will not be done every time I reach a new 50-page landmark, but preferrably caught up to within some sane amount of time, so as to avoid serious backlog.
For every 25 books I read, I will revise, prepare, and submit some original work of poetry/short fiction/etc. for publication.
During this time, however, I will be writing and revising and working on other projects as time allows (harhar).

Actions Taken:

Reduced Netflix (which I love) down to just one disc at home at a time. Granted, this doesn't take effect until 2010.01.31, but it's a step in the right direction. I'm not afraid. The instant watch feature more than compensates for this.
Resolved New-Yearily to take at least 3 vacation days off from work throughout the year to sit at home and read and/or write. I've got two weeks from last year that will soon combine with another three for this year. Pretty sure I can spare three days.
Wrote this crazy blog entry, outlining these shenanigans. (Doesn't really count, but I liked the symmetry of having three points for this category, rather than a dull two.)

Conclusion:

So there it is. In theory, I think it's a fabulous idea. Practically, it might not work out. I might call it quits or change up the rules along the way, espeically if I notice that this has removed all the fun and enjoyment from the process of reading. I reserve the right to throw any and all components or rules straight out the window.

Onward and forward!
Andrle

"it's just raining... on my face."

2009-12-28T17:59:00.004-05:00

Missed my 5-year blog anniversary. That's quite alright. Five years! That's sort of neat.

Happy Holidays (is the main point of this blog entry). Additionally, for the first time since I wrote this blog entry over a year and a month ago, I had a brand new elevator nightmare. Thought I was cured! Sad times are these. :oP I've actually been having quite the array of strange/disturbing/inappropriate-for-various-reasons dreams since arriving in Wiscaaansin for the holidays. I leave soon; wonder if they will stop happening?

In any case, toodles for now. Hope everyone's holidays are bright and here are abundant well-wishes for a smashing 2010.

Auf Wiedersehen,
Andrpant

in case of a new blog / brace yourself

2009-12-10T15:54:00.007-05:00

Greetings, faithful followers!

Although the year has basically rocked for several awesome reasons, 2009 represents a shoddily-done job of blogging on my part. If you compare the number of posts total from prior years, you'll see how inattentive I have been. I guess 2007 came close with a mere 6 posts. 2007 was kind of a tough year. The minimal entries of 2009, however, indicate the opposite. I've been madly busy, especially in the past few months, and with all sorts of brilliantly-thrilling things. Suffice it to say, 2009 > 2007. And I'll leave it at that.

But even so, as I'm sitting here being both terribly vague and simply musing irrelevantly, I think it's worth mentioning (perhaps extolling, even) the excitement of the near-five years this blog has existed. That's history! Historical!? Well, it's long-term, man. I tend to think in terms of what I was doing a week, a month, a year, five years ago - and that sort of thinking I find fun. Three years ago, for example, well heck, I'd just come off of an abroad to England and was sitting at home jobless for a few months, mentally preparing to move to Boston. Five years ago, the boring part-time job in Ohio during winter break. I could go on, but that would just bore you.

Here's what I promise for 2010: more relevant blog entries. Topical entries! Entertaining entries. Informative entries. Sassier entries. I should potentially reconsider saying it's a promise for 2010 rather than just a goal, but I've been feeling so writerly lately that maybe it's good to make such promises, and hold myself to them.

Also, because I had no real purpose in blogging today other than to note how pathetically-low the blog count for 2009 was (and to perk it up by one!), I'm going to use the opportunity to shout out and redirect you to my twitter page. http://twitter.com/Andrle will take you on a journey of unrelenting randomness and even more irrelevance than you could ever hope to find here. Sometimes I post links to exciting articles. More often than not, however, it's a platform for me to mention coffee, work, being tired, and communicating briefly with those I hold dear (at least, the ones who are fellow-tweeters). You might get tidbits like "vacation!" or "submitted something for writing!" (more frequent as of late) in there as well. If you so choose to find me on twitter, do so having paid my warnings heed.

Other news: you may or may not be aware, but this blog is now linked to via www.LaNerd.com! Type that into your browser, click the attractive and mysterious elephant, and you'll be taken right back here. Thanks to lovely boyfriend, Nick.

And so I leave you on that note, properly linked, and happily able to move along to your next blog.

As always,
Andrle

(Fox) Mulder, it’s me (not Scully)

2009-03-17T14:27:00.005-04:00

Have I blogged about this before? It seems quite likely, but I don’t want to waste the time to verify, I just want to waste the time to write about it. Also, my blog has been suffering so as of late, what with the total lack of entries this new year and all.

Well, the “this” that I above refer to is this: The tragic and frequent misspellings of my name.

I do not mean this as a letter of complaint (I feel very jovial today), but rather as an observation. Think of this whole blog as one big “huh!” with perhaps a shrug of the shoulders and … whatever it is that one’s mouth does when feeling apathetic.

What has prompted this today, as this is surely a lifetime affliction for one with a name so unusual(ly spelled)? Nothing of note, really. Although, I’ll note it anyway.

Today on my way out of the office for a much-needed breath of fresh air, I asked if I could get anything for a coworker while I was out. After some convincing, she decided she’d like something from Starbucks. And she highly suggested (yes, really) that I get something too. I have been on a nearly-three-week coffee-purchasing hiatus (well done me?), and oddly enough, I felt indifferent initially toward the idea of getting Starbucks. Long story short, I ended up getting a Tall Skinny Vanilla Latte (yes! I strayed from my old standard Caramel Macchiato! What is the world coming to?).

As usual, the barista asked my name, I said “Andrle,” and as soon as I saw her confused look begin to surface, spelled it for her. I collected the beverages and went back to work. When I got back to my desk, I noticed that she had spelled it “Anderle.” And thus, the new round of musing began.

There are various ways giving my name can play out. This is how it can go down:

1. They spell it correctly. Bingo! (I thought I’d put this first, to help convey my feeling of optimism on this topic.)
2. They spell it incorrectly, but their version of phonetically. Meaning, they get how it’s pronounced, but not how it’s spelled (even though I spell it for them). Examples: Anderle. Annderlee (an explostion of letters!). Anderly.
3. They neither spell it correctly nor in a way meaning that they understood what I had said. Examples: Andre, Annerlee, Annaley, Amber-lee.
4. They call me Angela.

At this point I begin to feel like I’m repeating myself, for I know I’ve discussed the following in some forum, so forgive me if this is a reiteration.

It’s because of the above that at the establishments where they “require” names, I used to have this momentary freak-out debate in my head about what name to give. Should I give them my middle name, Holly? Abbreviate my name into some strange boyish form like the acceptable, but to me awkward to say, Andie? Allow a deeply-submerged alter-ego to surface, thereby proclaiming that I am a Madison, a Kaylee (not Cally), a Colby (I never had this desire before, but just now that popped in my head, and why not), a Mia, a whatever other not entirely normal, but not entirely hard to spell name that comes to me?

The problem exists: I am none of those people. I don’t even feel a strong kinship with my middle name. So to exclaim, Holly! Or Penny! Or Aubrey! when someone says, “and your name?” seems like abandoning the first name that was given to me that I actually like quite a bit.

So in the end, I’ve decided to stick to “Andrle.” To thine own self (title) be true? As it turns out, I think I’d rather endless variations of my actual name than a correctly-spelled someone else on my cup.

Thus endeth today’s musings. It seems so self-indulgent to have an entire blog that is essentially obsessing over … myself. Therefore, I shall conclude with an unrelated link: click here please.

holly jolly

2008-12-24T16:00:00.005-05:00

Although I don’t (won’t) have access to the internet on the actual day, I’ve found that I can create and then schedule the publishing of a message in advance. So, from me from both Boston and Wisconsin, I wish you the happiest of holidays.

Much love to you all.

some sorts of anniversaries after all

2008-12-17T02:00:00.002-05:00

Today marks the 4^th anniversary of andrle.blogspot.com! My, what an enviable (but not) number of years. Wikipedia tells me that the 4^th anniversary traditionally is gifted with linen or silk, which is appropriate given all the new bedding I purchased this year. It’s not appropriate since this isn’t a wedding anniversary, but when I first started the blog, I was in love and have since become as devoted to it as an often disinterested or otherwise distracted housewife. So let’s say it counts as a marriage and say that’s settled.

You could help to celebrate by going back and reading those first ancient entries, but I don’t recommend it. I cringe at having mentioned them because they’re quite dreadful, and that’s not at all me being modest and secretly hoping you love them.

Four years ago I was a junior in college, bored at my part time job in Cleveland, Ohio over winter break, writing smack about just about everything, and with great frequency. I was semi-delusional and thought that it was only a matter of time before I either became a celebrity, married a celebrity, or lived the glamorous life of someone who claims to be a writer but really just lazes about all day long in her pajamas drinking coffee and watching television.

Now I live in Boston and work in Marketing and think about real estate. And although I still occasionally joke about marrying a celebrity and daydream about being insanely wealthy, I do so with much more realism (and perhaps cynicism too) behind all that dismal reverie.

I can only hope that four more years find us all perhaps a little more successful and find me perhaps a tad less ashamed of what I had blogged about during the four years prior.

Love,
Andrle

the fates want you to cover your automobile

2008-12-15T10:53:00.007-05:00

Of all the tremendous things I have pending to blog about, this particular item I must do now because of the absolute and inconceivable timing…

This morning I had the rare opportunity not only to get a seat on the train to work, but also to be able to look out the window (quite lovely during the above-ground stops). Somewhere around Coolidge Corner, one of the MBTA’s buses drove by, all covered in that plastic stuff, one giant advertisement for the Charlie Card (I tried so hard to find an image, but to no avail. Plain semi-creepy Charlie will have to suffice). I’ve seen buses and other various automobiles covered with plastic/filmy banners and adverts countless other times, but this morning, for some odd reason, I found myself wondering what that process actually involves. How the heck is all that film printed? Do they do it in a couple large sections, or are they in smaller strips that have to be seamlessly aligned and placed on? How tedious the process not only to print but to adhere to the vehicle (the enormity of buses) must be! I wondered how many print companies could actually produce these beastly print jobs (it would take a specialized printer, depending on the size of the sheets, and the actual material they print on. Not to mention, they’d have to coat it with some sort of weather-resisting film since these puppies are exposed to rain, snow, etc. and I’m pretty sure not all print locations have that process available in-house). However, assuming I’d never know, I shrugged and drifted off to some other morning commute thought.

Back in November, I had attended a brief seminar on printing (for marketing projects, for printer buyers, etc.) in Rhode Island. Since then, I’ve been receiving periodic emailed “Print Tips” from the woman who led the seminar. They’re interesting and informative, but just as I do with most email at work these days, unless it’s something that needs immediate action, I open it, skim it, archive it, and move back to one of the million other tasks I’m trying to complete that day.

Then today’s email came.

Oh coincidence! Oh cosmic shenanigans! In this email, just exactly what is the feature? Title: Vehicle Wraps: How Do They Do It?

O.M.G. Less than an hour prior to receiving this email I had been pondering just this! How do they do it? And then this email comes to me? I was beyond stunned. Well, perhaps just oddly surprised. Wonder and ye shall be told? Superb! If everything else in the world worked this way… hmm, I wonder how it is that people come to find themselves immensely wealthy, without any sort of concern in their lives? It’s not exactly the same, but I’d like to think that things could work that way.

Anyway, it’s really a fascinating process, vehicle wraps. I haven’t had time to really delve into it, mostly because of the major guilt I currently feel because I should be working but I’m writing a blog instead - but I was so shocked by the timing that I had to blog about it so the 4 people who read these entries could now know that I’m a crazy person and am partially psychic – well, let’s call it extremely intuitive. This is not the first time something like this has happened, although I’m not going to go so far as to assume that it’s just me or that I’m all that incredible.
Nonetheless, I think you should go read about it here http://www.bostonprintbuyers.com/printtips/index.html#article because it’s something everyone has seen at one point, and heck, it’s interesting, right?! Right? Or, maybe I’ve gone into the geek-land of marketing and printing and now have no idea what’s actually interesting anymore… if so, my apologies.

Next up: An in-depth ponder-ation about why today’s temps (in the work place) are so sassy.
An involved and highly-photographed discussion of my awesome new speakers (subwoofer, woof!).
and… probably something about the holidays.

Hearts, kisses, and other gag-inducing farewell tomfoolery,
Andrle

you have to take the stairs

2008-11-14T15:16:00.006-05:00

I'm sure there's a good way to begin this, but I've tried various ways and failed. I've been having some strange recurring dreams. They involve, well, I’m suddenly reminded of another, which involves strange systems of public toilets that never have doors. But that’s for another time. I’m haunted by a strange and somewhat inexplicable fear of elevators. But only in my dreams, mind you.

I probably have, on average, 3-5 dreams per month during which I’m either in an elevator, about to get on an elevator, or avoiding an elevator that I am absolutely convinced is going to fall. This has been going on for years. Possibly my whole life, although not with such persistent frequency as in the last couple years.

Last night, the absurdity reached its peak. I wouldn’t say that the contents of this particular dream were any more out of the ordinary than usual. But when I woke up with that familiar strangeness that remains after having these dreams, I found myself thinking, “what the hell?” It’s safe to say that I’ve commented about this tendency here and there, perhaps to a friend as a casual addition to a conversation about what unnerves us. But normally I have the dreams, wake up with an uneasy feeling, and then go about my life assuming I’ve put it behind me. Until the next elevator nightmare, I don’t think much of it. But today I woke with the wonder of what it is that makes this, of all things, the theme recurring in my unconscious thought.

Riding in an elevator is nearly a daily occurrence for me. Now that I work on the second floor, I shouldn’t be employing their use as much. Throughout the day, I do usually take the stairs. But sometimes I’m in such a hurry to get to work (on time) that I bust through the first entrance I reach, a newly-reopened “deluxe” entrance where the elevators are really the only way to go. There are stairs but the door at the top of them is frequently locked, and it’s frustrating when you’re running late to have to bolt back down the stairs and then wait for the elevator that you should have taken in the first place.

So am I at all uncomfortable on my semi-daily elevator journey? Nope. The elevators at work don’t bother me much, although I must say that the elevators that went up to the 20-somethingth floor of the building work used to inhabit were a bit reminiscent of a theme park ride. They were speedy in both directions and they were at times pretty noisy and wobbly. I’m glad I didn’t work in that building, (I just visited when sent on errands) although the views were fabulous and probably made up for it.

So do I experience fear when I take other elevators? Nah. Not really. There’s the occasional odd experience when the doors take a little too long to open, or I hear a strange noise or the compartment rumbles oddly. But on the whole, these fairly infrequent and rather quick journeys are done and over with, and I continue on my way unscathed.

So what is it that goes on in my life that drives me to have these insanely frequent nightmares? I’m not sure I believe in the typical dream mumbo-jumbo (although I have to admit I’m not very well versed in it, so perhaps I shouldn’t make such blanket statements). But I’m not convinced there’s much that I can do to avoid them, nor do I particularly care to take drastic measures to stop them (they could stop though, that would be just fine with me). I’m not in search of an answer as much as I just find it interesting to chronicle. So chronicle I will.

I therefore submit a strange and incomplete record of the elevator-related nightmares I currently recall.

Foreign Elevators.

I was in a strange European country, traveling around in an elevator that operated more like one from Willy Wonka/CCF. Oddly enough, it was not this particular vertically, horizontally, every-which-way-ly flying elevator that petrified me. It wasn’t until I was dropped off at a large, shiny, black-box building that my irrational fear resurfaced. I am uncertain what mission I had that involved me elevating to the top of this building (which I believe had a quite beautiful and impressive black marble exterior – thus the sheen). All I new was that I would have preferred attempting to scale the outside over taking the elevator. It might have had weak glass flooring or seemed otherwise unstable - the dream is too distant now to recall exactly. Ultimately, a gang of oddly dressed hooligans pushed me into the elevator, which went up before going down (apparently I had to go underground, not up to the top), and my mission was to deliver a memo to no one in particular and be on my way. I never took the elevator back up, but I was outside of the building before I knew it, and as I recall, on my way to waking up before any sort of results could come about.

The Workplace.

Although it was an absolute that I was at work, this dream-workplace in no way resembled the building I actually work in – something which so often happens to me in dreams. It was rather sci-fi-esque in appearance. I was in the basement and my only option to get from floor to floor was an elaborate and confusing network of elevators. Some took you to one level, others took you to another. I ended up on the wrong floor because I refused to take one particular elevator that, reasons unbeknownst to me, freaked me out beyond belief - but also was the only one that went to my desired level. So I could hardly get to the right floor, but I could hardly make myself take that elevator. I think there were also futuristic go-carts (exciting!) but I didn’t get to actually ride any. Not that a go-cart would have helped me go from level to level unless there had been a ramp hidden somewhere.

The Ultimate.

It’s what I fear each time, but what has only happened once: in this dream, the elevator actually dropped. There wasn’t much context surrounding where I was or why I was there, or even how the elevator had broken. All I knew was that I was alone in the elevator, on my way up and feeling nervous as usual, and then elevator slowed down and the usual shakiness occurred. I feared the worst, and then the worst actually happened. Something snapped and down I went. I wasn’t even experiencing that strange sensation that one gets in dreams when they’re falling – but I was acutely aware of the fact that I was in an elevator and that I was plummeting to my death. I kept thinking that if I jumped up at the right time, I could avoid otherwise certain death. I think I was even aware of the fact that it was ironic that I was going to die this way since I had been having so many dreams about this particular happening. I scolded myself; it was playing with fate to go on that particular elevator, and shame, shame on me. But then I woke up. No harm done.

Last night.

I had been signed up for some sort of seminar that would take place at a nearby location that I lived and worked at before college. The seminar was to be held on the 9^th floor – never mind the fact that in reality this building has only four levels. I got in an elevator with a group of people who mumbled idly about the lecturing we would endure. The elevator cab, which looked like no more than a hastily constructed wooden box, shakily ascended to about the 7^th floor. Doors never opening, it came to an abrupt stop, swung for a while, and then dutifully sunk to the first floor to collect additional passengers before it would finish delivering us to the 9^th floor. At the prospect of making yet another journey in this warbling contraption, as well as greatly disliking being pressed against the side of the creaking walls to make room for the newcomers, I think I shrieked a bit, and squeezed my way out of the elevator, announcing that I would take the stairs. Everyone thought I was crazy, and seemed to believe that climbing nine flights of stairs was an unbelievable and impossible feat. It shouldn’t have been, and I was determined, driven by both my fear of the elevator and that strange sense of claustrophobia that overcame me - which can only be linked back to my recent train rides home on the ridiculously overcrowded Boston mass transit. In the end of this dream, I believe I neither made it to the top via the stairs (some stragglers that couldn’t fit in the elevator came along with me, and we made our journey up the stairs with frequent, strangely motivated stops and tours of about every other floor), nor did I tragically die. So all in all, not a particularly terrible elevator dream.

In General.

Most of my dreams relating to elevator fright are not so elaborate or lengthy. More often than not, I’ve simply stepped into the cab of an elevator (or am on one already when I become aware) it goes to a point then slows, stutters, quivers a bit, and then I’m either left scrambling to exit as soon as I can, or stuck in that moment, petrified that it will fall, feeling like the floor beneath me is about as stable as if it were made of loose, brittle netting.

Come to think of it, escalators are really a much better bet. The worst thing that you might have to do if they break down is engage your idle legs and finish walking whichever direction you were headed. OK, so the consequences might be a bit more severe, but I’m sure much less life-threatening. I understand we can’t just go throughout the world, replacing all elevators with escalators. I suppose it’s due to space restraints; we’ve had to develop the elevator because escalators take up so much room. But not much more than that of a staircase, which come to think of it, has to be paired with every elevator! With some thinking, we could have developed slightly deeper steps that would accommodate wheelchairs and strollers, thereby reducing our reliance on elevators. It’s a shame, really. Not once have I been tormented by a killer escalator, its metal jaws opening to swallow me when I forget to step off at the end of my ride.

Perhaps it’s that the very nature of elevators is just odd. You stand in this lift, seemingly in stasis, but when the door opens, it’s as if one stage set has simply been replaced with another, and all that rumbling was just the stagehands working quickly to get things in place before the curtains, er, elevator doors are opened. Or perhaps it’s that they serve as a sort of median in your experience – the bridge from one locale to another. You’re forced in a silence with your thoughts, and no matter what you come up with to ponder (your next meeting, your plans for the evening, number 118 of 500 ways to avoid that special someone), even if you don’t acknowledge it, you clearly know you’re in an elevator. And you know you’ve taken a risk entering, and trusting that the cords won’t snap, that a gear won’t slip, that you won’t find yourself thinking your final thoughts as you plunge in this dark container down to the bottom of the elevator shaft.

There's no such thing as too much mashing!

2008-10-24T23:09:00.007-04:00

I’ll spare you my spiel about how domestic I’ve been behaving/feeling lately, what with spending about 4 hours in the kitchen last Sunday, or realizing that I actually enjoy ironing… but it has to be touched upon because the topic of today's blog is...

Homemade Raspberry Lemonade!!!

So I jotted down this recipe a couple months back, but finally decided to get the ingredients for it the other day, and then made it tonight after work.

Here it is in the early stages – after 20 minutes of lemon slicing (my hands were so lemony-fresh!) - and throwing it all together:
So mash, mash, mash with a potato masher for like 5 or so minutes, and you've got...
Humor me and say this looks delicious.

OK, so then I strained it, added some water, and was absolutely delighted to discover the extravagant delight that is homemade raspberry lemonade. For real. Four ingredients and some smooshing, and you've got such a tasty drink.
Roommate Tracy and I enjoyed some, and then I beckoned down our upstairs neighbors for some movie watching and beverage sharing. It is fabulous that something so tasty can be made so easily and by someone like me. Bravo, the concept of making things by hand...

Anyway, this is mostly all here because people like Robert have been nagging me to post again, and also, that first picture was so stunning, I felt I had to make an excuse to get it online.

Goodnight, and good whatnot.
Anderpant

good coffee, less french

2008-08-13T08:28:00.003-04:00

Continuing the trend of Andrle's appliances at work (let's hope I don't leave this job for a while...), today I'm briefly (we hope) heralding the greatness of the french press. Let's call it just a plain old coffee press. French just makes it sound too fancy. And french.

Anyway, since I have recently been quite naughty, making an outrageously expensive purchase (can't.... can't think about it right now), I realized that I need to put myself on a money-diet (among many kinds of diets, but this is the only one i'll dwell on right now). One of many spending sacrifices I now plan to make is a cutback of coffee purchases. Therefore, no more bi- (or tri- or...) weekly visits to a Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks. No, no, no.

But what to do? I so enjoy some tasty roasted-bean liquid throughout the workday, especially during the summer when I'm here for about 11 hours (8-6:45 or 7... that's too long!). I have an abundance of coffee waiting to be brewed at home, but trying to get hot beverage to work via my commute on the T is not at all convenient. I debated getting a small coffee maker for work, but I felt like having something that would plug in and make noise would be a problem.

Then, I visited my friend Kyla, and she uses (or has started to use) a coffee press. I had shied away from them during my freshman year of college, when I tried one and it tasted terrible. Turns out, I was just young and stupid, and should have not been using pre-ground coffee grinds, since they're too fine for a press.

Anyway, what occured to me when drinking coffee from a press that didn't taste like sludge was that this was my solution for work-coffee! I'm totally delighted. I purchased a single-serve (ish) sized french press (Bodum brand) and am completely satisfied with my decision.

Do I still feel high-maintenance and strange? Yes. But at least this is more subtle. And the coffee tastes so incredibly good... I might even change my coffee ways at home once I burn (yes, burn) through my already-ground supply.

bedliness

2008-07-27T20:57:00.004-04:00

(What's this? A post two days in a row? Unheard of!)

Today, boys and girls and older versions thereof, I am going to talk about something you probably won't care about, in more detail than is even necessary for instructions on how to dismantle an explosive with your bare hands. Here it is, nonetheless: The Great AndrleBed Progression, 2008. (Stunningly worded, I concede. Har.)

As many or none of you, but probably most of you know, I have upgraded from a quite satisfactory twin-sized bed, complete with IKEA bed frame, to my upstairs neighbor's full-sized bed, beautifully complimented by a West Elm headboard. Why, you might wonder, would I steal my upstairs neighbor's bed? I must admit, I actually purchased it from her. Doesn't she need it? No. Because she is getting married, and they have gotten an even larger bed, which is very smart of them, indeed.

So, you might be thinking, unless you either live with me or have to hear me prattle on about my bed situation, "oh, so Andrle bought her neighbor's bed. That's nice? Why the pretentious 'Great AndrleBed, et al' title then, eh?" Oh, how little you (luckily) know, which is why I am here to inform you (even if you do know, or don't care (but if you are reading, you must care, even if only a little, and so i am here for you!)).

Said marrying neighbor and I officially shook on the deal, by which I mean, I gave her a check and she gave me a very tidy receipt, back in, oh let's see, around the middle or end of January. Yes, that was 6 months prior to this day, the mighty day of actual bed receipt. At that point, yes, I owned a very nice little bed. I can't complain, I had had it quite happily for several years. Its only flaw was that, due to numerous moves, the attached bedside table (see image below) had gotten wobbly. If I weren't incredibly lazy, I would have fixed it in one way or another. But I am, and I didn't. Enough said. Ultimately, I wanted a larger bed so I can share the space with an abundance of pillows and still have enough room to kick in my sleep. These things are very important to me.
Having confirmed that I would be the next owner of the full-sized bed that hovered in the room directly above mine (convenient), I was quite thrilled, and I won't lie to you, set about almost immediately to buy items for the bed I would not have until the end of July. First off, a very fine set of Elephant Percale sheets:from The Company Store. Why? Because I love elephants. (Don't believe me? Count them in my room. For sanity's sake, we can count all the little elephants on my sheet set as one, but you'd probably still come up with over 15, easily. Frightening!) Also, they were on a fine sale (sale is key! note the trend throughout), AND were selling out (all they have in stock currently are the King ones from what I can tell - and not on sale), and so I got them. That was February 4th, my email tells me. Sheet set one in February. Check.

To keep it short (har har, oh i jest) I will only mention briefly that I bought a set of pink sheets with white polka dots from the Marshalls on Boylston Street downtown. Let's say it was in March sometime, although I honestly can't recall. But these had to be returned because they would only clash with...

The duvet cover (and accent pillows) I found at West Elm! Not so much on sale, but brilliant nonetheless, I spotted their fabulousness online, and knew that I wanted them all. I also knew that the cover was quite superb because it just so happens that my roommate has this duvet cover in a lovely blue. So I bought them. (no picture, for it will only be redundant once the final picture is seen.) Duvet and accent pillows in April. Check.

Now, also at West Elm, which I had discovered last fall, before I thought I needed a larger bed and was quite content (well, I mean, I'm a restless person so no guarantee of content, but let's pretend) with my IKEA bed business, ... was this incredibly attractive headboard (pictured despite the fact that it will be seen later several times):
You must understand that the moment I knew I was to possess a larger bed, therefore being unable to use my IKEA unit, I knew with great certainty that this West Elm Morroco Headboard was the headboard for me, and that I must have it. (I'm sounding just a touch possessive here, aren't I?) But certainly, it would be irresponsible to buy it more than a couple weeks before I was getting my new bed, right? Uhm... yes, quite, quite right.

I have to explain this now. You see, my only reservation about getting the attractive headboard was the price tag. You can check it online, but guess what - I hit the most tremendous sale a mere two and a half months ago. And so not only was the extra $50 for shipping and delivery waived, the headboard was also over $100 off the current price. So I got it. In May. Early May. To be fair, I have to mention that they said it would take 4-6 weeks for delivery, so I figured I'd only have it like a month early at most. Well, of all items to be expedited in their delivery, guess what came a mere two weeks later. And, it would have been earlier, except that I asked for a Saturday delivery (figuring it would delay the shipment by a couple weeks). Nope. Instead of a Tuesday, I got it that weekend. Whoa. So, I had to put it somewhere, and it came in the most ridiculously-sized box with incredibly elaborate interior packaging. Thus, I unpacked it, and so it lived behind my current setup. Headboard, check.
Let's see. I got distracted by the headboard. Essentially, I am a loon. There's a mattress pad, a down comforter, and a second set of sheets and whatnot thrown in the timeline somewhere. (What, you need two sets of sheets! These do not, sadly, have elephants on them. They're a very responsible faintly-striped tan-ish. (450 thread count! yes, and at Marshals, so pretty inexpensive.))

So that leaves us at the selling of my twin-size bed on craigslist. I didn't want to sell it too soon thereby leaving me on an air mattress for three months (although I've spent my fair share of time on air mattresses. I once thought it preferable to have the extra space potential in my room back when one of the places me mum and I lived was obscenely tiny). So I waited, and then about two weeks ago I finally posted the ad I had drafted in... sigh... February. It would have been worthy of a ranting blog entry all on its own to discuss the lack of courtesy that the anonymity of the craigslist forum can sometimes lead to (I think I owe Rebekah credit for pinpointing just why people lack follow-through). But as I didn't blog about it, I won't go into much more detail now. Essentially, after about 5 people who set up times to come see the unit flaked, one man actually showed up, looked at the bed, said "yes, this is in good condition," paid me, and it was sold. He helped me take it apart, we took it down to his minivan, and away it went. In summary, last Sunday, bed gone, Andrle sad to see it go, but relieved, and quite pleased about the timing working so well.

This brought me to the empty room (well, half empty) stage, that only lasted a week. Here it is, so you can understand how sad the headboard and I were to be all alone.
OK, enough's enough. I'm ready for the final reveal. But first, I have to mention how awesome the people were who "delivered" my bed. Soon-to-be-married Neighbor's soon-to-be father- and brother-in-law, as well as her fiance brought the bed down for me today. A couple weeks ago, I was thinking I could just get it myself. I'm strong. But they were fabulously kind and helpful, and when he saw that my headboard would need to be attached and I mentioned that I was going to attach it with the pieces they provided later on, the neighbor's future father-in-law (this would be much easier with names, but i refuse) asked me for the bolts and he and the future brother-in-law proceeded to attach it for me. They were also incredibly helpful with the bed skirt and all that jazz, and I was totally grateful. Anyway, that having been said, I of course immediately put it all together, and this is what it looks like:
Now don't go badgering me about the bed skirt saying I skipped that part. (like you really are, please.) Actually, badger all you want, I did skip it. I just didn't buy it. It was part of the bed-purchasing deal. I originally worried it would clash, but it looks quite nice, I think.

So there you have it, wanted or not. That's quite a lot of photo documentation, huh? Tracy and I joked that we should have taken photos of the twin-bed selling process. Like, the man checking it out, making his decision to buy. A close-up shot of him handing me the money. The disassembling process. The man driving away in his van, with me waving sadly goodbye to my precious old bed. Don't worry, none of those were taken, although had we thought of it before he was gone, and if I had been confident he wouldn't be creeped out, (and if I were more bold) it's possible those photographs could have been!

My next project is to strip the old white paint and glue from the bedside table (totally a freebee, yay!), and use a dark wood stain. I've been doing my research on how to do this, but welcome any tips you might have. It's a lot of work, and I have no stripping, let me clarify, paint stripping, sanding, or wood-staining experience, but I've watched a lot of it on Home & Garden Television (read: i'm a dork), so we'll see. We've got a nice porch/balcony for a reason, right? We'll see.

I might, might have already gotten the knob for it. I can't bear telling you what it's of, but if you follow this link, you'll see, and be convinced once and for all that I'm a bit crazy...

Ah, so now what? (well, this is too long to edit, so...) Now I shower and get into bed. Goodnight, all.

it would be wrong to say i'm jealous

2008-07-26T14:26:00.004-04:00

Oh my goodness. My mum is currently cruising down the Wisconsin highway driving this vehicle:

I know that I'm not supposed to covet, but I completely wish I had such a car! I have loved Smart Cars since my journey to England two years ago. And now they are finally in the U.S. and my mother has gotten one!

The most fabulous part is that it is red and not the dull white she was going to get. I have nothing serious against white cars, but the fact that it's a Smart Car basically necessitates getting the brightest color you can find. She signed up on a waiting list around March for a car, assuming that she'd not have it until December or the following March, as the waiting lists are for 9-12 months. And she signed up for a white one, with silver trim. Naturally, as I am a feisty daughter, I continuously hounded her about needing to get one that was red (first choice!), blue, or at least the gaudy yellow. Anything but the white!

Then, earlier this week (or month), a car had been "orphaned," meaning that someone who put a $99 deposit on a car decided when it came in that they didn't want it after all (because they're crazy? just kidding), so they looked on their list for someone who also wanted the convertible version with all the hot-options (oh mother, a convertible, good lord!) and there was Mum. And, behold, it was a red one. Which she decided she likes quite a bit after all. Thank goodness!

Anyway, I want one desperately, but seeing how I couldn't even take my mum's old car (which was offered long ago) because I can't afford even the insurance and taxes on a vehicle in Massachusetts, I hardly think I can or should also add on a roughly $300 extra payment a month for new Smart Car financing. It is, sadly, not in the cards for Andrle. Oh well. I have been promised much Smart Car driving when next I visit the land of Wisconsin. And in the mean time, there's always Zipcar!

V8, i think i love you

2008-06-18T09:56:00.003-04:00

I don't even know why or when or how, but I have fallen in love with V8. Probably three months ago I made my first purchase of the stuff (small, 5.5 oz cans so that I wouldn't feel guilty if it sat in the fridge at work for six weeks before I got brave enough to drink them all, which was the case). I had a can - the Low Sodium variety - with my dinner at work, and I nearly died. Each sip that I tried to imagine was a tasty tomato soup, I had to try not to spit out. It probably didn't help that I had put it on ice, so as the ice melted, my small can of V8 goo turned into probably twice the volume of watered-down hell. I was sad. I wanted to drink V8. I wanted to drink my vegetables!

So, the next step: consuming V8 while eating crackers. Somehow the salty crunch of a cracker accompanying my liquid veggies seemed less severe. But after this stage, I can't figure it out. I just sat down to drink it with no help from starches, and no fast gulping of the thing to hide from the taste.

No matter how it happened, I just realized, when enjoying a semi-guilt free morning snack of V8 and raw broccoli (hells yes, broccoli. check it, the name of this blog!), I no longer wince with each gulp of the beverage. I no longer imagine the lurking beet juice as a bloody pulp of doom. I actually thought to myself, this is so delicious. Thank god I had some V8 in the fridge at work.

V8 and non-fiction. I'm pretty much just skipped from my twenties to my forties.

Now back to work.

huff and puff (i first wrote buff)

2008-06-09T13:11:00.006-04:00

I enjoyed everyone's responses to the last blog, "Life is a Candy," immensely! I've meant to respond to you individually, but have gotten overwhelmed at work, and therefore exhausted and tired at home. (read: therefore too sleepy/lazy to respond, but i will soon.) But I LOVED your research! I think now I should get us all "Life is a Candy" t-shirts!

In unrelated news, today I ventured across Mass Ave (no big or small accomplishment, depending on how you look at it) to the hardware store to see about procuring a mini-fan for my desk. In the mornings, despite the air conditioning, my cubicle space has been feeling quite stuffy. I had noticed a few people with large fans chillin' in their spaces, and thought, yes, for the first 10 minutes at my desk, a fan would be fabulous indeed. So, after seeing a few dull, very large fans, i looked up and found this gorgeous model (mine is the GREEN one pictured):

I'm in love with it because not only is it tiny and green and attractive (with soft fan blades, thus the baby hand in the second photo), but it's QUIET... one of my concerns about an office fan. I don't want the 6 closest desks to mine knowing I'm a wacko who is always hot and needs extra fanage in the morn. Also, it's Vornado brand, which I've come to respect as a fan manufacturer. A small fan often seems flimsy and breakable, and this is super sturdy and great.

That's all I've got. I'm done boring you for the day. ;)

Life is a Candy

2008-05-29T14:35:00.007-04:00

Upon walking back to work after a delicious and mostly free lunch at the Prudential (hurray coupons for free chips and salsa at Qdoba!) I happened to pass a lady wearing a shirt with some rather strange wordage. On her very pink shirt read some white lettering stating quite frankly, "Life is a Candy."

Thanks to my HARDCORE Microsoft Paint skills, i have created a mock-up here for you. As if imagining a pink shirt with the simple words, "Life is a Candy" were all that hard without the image. Just in case, here you go.
Anyway, for a moment, I thought I had misread. After all, life is NOT a candy. It's not even two candies or candy plural. Or chocolate or Cheetos or any other food item. And although thanks to a very overrated film of the 90s, everyone's familiar with the phrase, "life is like a box of chocolates," this is so far from any sort of logical phrase that I can't begin to imagine what it might mean.

I'm required by law to add another observation, one that supports my concerns of the past (to be explained shortly), I could probably safely assume this woman was a foreigner. The Prudential here in Boston sees its fair share of foreigners, so I don't think my assumption was incorrect. I love foreigners, well done visiting or moving to Boston... but whether or not she was indeed from elsewhere doesn't change the fact that her shirt read "Life is a Candy," which I refuse to believe is not strange. But it DOES support my great suspicion that we sold some sad country a shirt that is grammatically quite odd and nonsensical. It also further supports my long-standing concern (here it is finally!) that those earrings and shirts and hats and other miscellaneous paraphernalia, in a foreign language or foreign characters (like the often-seen chinese) that are sold in english-speaking countries, really don't say "Happiness," or "I love Harry Potter," or "Life is Good." But rather, they boldly read, "I'm hungry," or "Harry Potter hates me," or "Life is a horse," so that when those who speak the language pass you by, they can laugh to themselves and think, silly american, way to not know what your shirt says. hahaha. Just like i thought to myself, woah, I wonder if that lady knows that life is a candy is the worst metaphor ever?!

So here's my question for YOU. Is there some widespread or up-and-coming "Life is a Candy" t-shirt or billboard campaign going on that I've somehow failed to observe until now? Is this some major clothing company's new slogan? What could the possible meanings of "Life is a Candy" be, other than, "Life is Sweet," "Life is Pretty Suggary," "Life Can Rot Your Teeth," etcetera? Or do you think I simply misread the shirt (doubtful!)?

Questions? Comments? Concerns? You must let me know. You weren't aware, but you're under contract to do so.

Hearts and Procrastination,
And-er-pooch

moon poochies and other beasties

2008-05-27T20:18:00.007-04:00

an addendum to "ice cream party, etc." :

robert is directly responsible for the term, moondoggy, which i used to sign off. i believe he felt slighted (i would) so here is the proper credit,

moondoggy is a derivative of a salutation from robert to me. as in, it was the salutation.

and an entire post devoted to it that now the three of you who read this will see. shabam!

ice cream party, motherfuckers

2008-05-27T17:30:00.006-04:00

As anyone who has talked to me in the last month or so can attest, I'm currently quite obsessed with simplification, or declutterization, as it were. What this has stemmed from (I can only imagine) is my realization that, even if I don't move this September, which I believe I won't be since we just sent an inquiry to our landlord about procuring another year lease, I will still, run-on-sentences-be-damned, one day have to move. And I acquired quite a bit of furniture last September, thanks to the generosity of my mum, whose downsizing her living space yet again left her with extra living room items. But one certainly needs living room furniture. Guests generally like to have somewhere to sit if they're going to stay more than thirty minutes. Televisions like to be on some sort of stand. I am, granted, speaking for the televisions. Their preferences might vary greatly, but, seeing how they have no way to communicate (unless using some sort of freaky X-Files type of communication), they have to let me speak for them. At least my own TV.

Furniture aside, I still just have a lot of "stuff" - something I've been struggling with for years. This realization has induced a number of recent activities, such as:

...subscribing to daily emails from exceptional sites such as unclutterer, declutterit, and, more with design in mind, apartment therapy.

...rethinking any future purchases. Do I really, really need more candles from IKEA or another book of poetry? Of course I do! But I'm not allowed buy them for myself anymore.

...donating old and ill-fitting clothing to goodwill.

...selling books online or giving some away.

Really, it all comes down to the question, will the purchase hit me twice? - meaning, first, do I need to spend money I don't really have on this item, and, secondly, is this item worth moving when the time comes? It's a little extreme perhaps, but I think a change in thinking - something to serve at least as a speed bump for my purchasing habits - is probably a very good thing.

You couldn't tell to look at my room, but I think I'm making progress. Perhaps someday my living spaces will be neat and organized and decluttered. Until then, the obsession with attempting to attain a state of organizational nirvana continues.

Another item of dismay - I have started to put books (some non-fiction, gasp!) on hold at the library based on those suggested or authored by writers of articles online. Some pertain to housing, the urge to buy (hah!), vegetarianism, nerdiness (yes, actually), etc. - an act that Rebekah said something along the lines of, means I'm an adult. Or acting like one. However, it's uncertian whether an adult would allow six of these books to stockpile in her house at one time. I mean, not someone like me who ends up watching netflix and going to the gym (I put this in here as a reminder that I should be going) in lieu of reading more often than not. I just got an email that three more books are available for pickup. Dear god, what have I gotten myself into!?

And a final note, explanatory of the above title (although I bet you're wishing I wouldn't explain it). I was looking at my calendar at work, on outlook, and there was a going-away party for one of our interns scheduled for the afternoon. All of the title of the appointment that I could read on the schedule was "ice cream party f," which I somehow misread in my head for a quick moment as "ice cream party, motherfuckers." Such a way to demand we all wish farewell to our intern, Patrick! Assuming anyone at work happens upon this entry and wishes to give me sass, I suppose I could be in some sort of trouble for typing about motherfuckers. But who knows. They're people too. The workers, but also the motherfuckers.

Hearts and such,
Moondoggy

arrested sheep

2008-05-23T23:32:00.009-04:00

BUSTER!

goodness, if you've never watched Arrested Development, i highly suggest you fix that straightaway. i also highly suggest you click on this image to view it larger, because it's the funniest thing you're going to see all day. i guarantee it.*

having seen all episodes of A.D., and joyfully owning all three (tragically, only three) seasons thanks to a gift last year, i was delighted when i ran across the fourth image/second-to-last image on this website where you can rasterize just about any image into quite large wall posters. it's simple enough, you pick your image, choose the size, choose the rasterization details, and it creates a pdf for you that you then print out on multiple pages, and combine in whatever manner you desire. if i had a printer at home, buster and sheep (specifically panels 4 and 5) would be on my wall right now. just wait until i get these printed...

they'll look smashing near my new headboard, which is being delivered tomorrow morning. nevermind the fact that the bed that is the correct size to match the headboard will not live in my room for another month plus. le sigh! (the headboard was on a special $50 off. one must buy when the price is right. i also expected it to take longer to come to me, but for once, delivery was super speedy, and thus i shall have a full-sized headboard behind my twin-sized headboard and bed for the remainder of the month plus. oh my!)

scooter pies,
Andercat

*guarantee in no way implies or promises compensation of any sort. thank you, and have a smashing day.

you have never ever felt it like you feel it right now

2008-04-04T15:46:00.006-04:00

so pathetic, all this wasted time in between soulless posts. what has become of my once over-updated blogspot!?

I planned to blog on the injustice of men having to pee in urinals (no kidding. as a woman, i think it's unfair...), but instead, i shall fill you in on the irrelevant details of my life.

I am:

working all the time
lacking sleep
creating mock-ups of my future full-sized bed based on online swatches of duvet, sheet sets, accent pillows, and the totally hot headboard I wish to buy
not going to the gym enough
planning to start going to the gym immediately after work, despite the fact that it’s impossible to get a machine then. it’s also impossible to get a machine until after like 9:30pm – and they close at 10, so I’m going to have to suck it up and wait in line for an elliptical and feel awkward.
missing out on booze lunches with JDW (long story, but they were never really booze lunches)
hyper-organizing my desk at work to make up for how messy my room at home is
letting my room at home fall into a mess to make up for how neat my work space is
starting to love to iron (my god!)
drinking diet dr pepper
what you want is mr. spock.
wishing there weren’t two months between the February 18^th holiday and April 21^st holiday (sad March with no three-day weekends). yeah, what I’m spoiled by holidays, ok!?
forgetting people don’t fall in love with me
being reminded people don’t fall in love with me
Lying
getting unnecessary amounts of newsprint on my fingers
realizing it’s time to start getting back to writing more frequently than I have been in the last year
remembering what it felt like to think some day I might be a published poet or fiction writer
aching to move back to the west coast – I’d settle for any of these states: California, New Mexico, Arizona, Washington, Nevada, Oregon, and maybe even Idaho or Colorado. So, not COAST west, but west. Western more than here. Which is Boston, which is absolutely east. And has 8-month-long winter seasons and 4-month-long humidity seasons. swell!
debating getting a mac
realizing I’m not worthy of a mac
wasting my breaks at work (that aren’t officially ever taken) doing silly things like writing this entry for the blog
reading some delightful books
seeing some delightful movies
watching x-files with tracy from the beginning – we’re near the end of season 2, so not all that far along. but I’ve never seen them before, so no spoilers like telling me mulder-pants disappears for an eon.
calling people their names followed by pants. see: mulder-pant. scul-pants. jenjepants. andrlepants. yes, I’m an equal opportunity pants-er.
eating my vegetables
Zipcar-ing to exciting places like – new Hampshire! (to visit their sam’s club and target – don’t get too excited).
misusing : punctuation!
owning seasons 1-3 of, and watching, scrubs!

And I’m done.

Kisses.

i have blackened out the stars

2008-02-21T13:26:00.006-05:00

you wish you were this cute.
i mean, of course you are.

in the land of andrle, the fact that she has nothing to say is always augmented when accompanied with photographs of her adorable dog in his youth. look! here we go again:
yeah, that's quality blogging, that is.

well, what's there to say?!? i'm at work, technically on my lunch break, gnawing on celery and peanut butter, wishing today were friday or saturday. but probably not saturday, because that would mean that i'm at work on a saturday, and not just that, but that many many people are at work on saturday. that just can not be.

i digress, i'm at work, on lunch break, chewing a stringy vegetable, wishing to be at home, and thinking again about the fact that i cannot afford to buy a condo, although i really want to. boston and its suburbs are terribly over-priced. i did some calculating the other day, and realized that, if i buy a condo in the price range i am thinking of, i would maybe just barely be able to scrape by and brake even each month. although, i wouldn't be able to take any vacations, or frequent the beauty aisles of the nearby Sephora anymore. and, as my mum pointed out when i was crazy and thinking it over yet again (the first surge of great desire to own hit me last summer), if i'm in a condo and they decide to fix the roofs or paint the exteriors or add gold to the driveways (these are not the worlds my mum used, this is me extraneously expounding on the topic) then i would be, quite frankly, screwed. for i would have no extra money to throw at them for these frivolous (or maybe necessary) things, and they would expect me to. BLAH.

what else? what else can i blabber about? i got a delightful cell phone message last night telling me that sir patrick stewart (no, i don't think he's technically a "sir" in the british knighted sense of the word, but i like the word sir, so there we are) will be staring in a moby dick television mini-series on a station our television does not get. (we have no cable.) but if you get the station, that i can't remember, you should watch it, because patrick stewart is incredible. if he were thirty years younger and available... nevermind. so, there you have it. go watch PS on some station i don't remember do his moby dick thing again (he's done a movie of it before) and REJOICE!

tragically, that's all i've got. i have this great guilt due to the fact that i should be working any second now. in fact, my lunch break is really over. i have to do what they pay me to do again...

choodles.

allen ginsberg & david cross = same person

2007-10-15T13:34:00.001-04:00

I'm still alive. A real blog entry to come. Until then... Examine these two men:

Can you tell the difference? One is Allen Ginsberg, the other David Cross. If you do not know who either of them are, you should Google them. I shall expound upon this phenomenon soon.

the Dunkin’ Donuts Dilemma

2007-07-31T08:58:00.001-04:00

Adjusting to my commute this week, as I kitty/condo-sit for one of the managers in my department, I’ve come to the ultimate conclusion that it’s only fair to repay/treat myself to a delicious beverage to get the morning started. Today, I rode the bus (the silly T train didn’t stop for us yesterday, and today I got there just as one T was leaving – I think the one earlier than I meant to catch, but I get there early because I don’t want to miss the later one, and I’m up anyway, because the kitties start getting hungry at 5:30am – and the bus (that essentially goes the same places as the above-ground section of the train)) was sitting there happily, with its doors open waiting for me.

However, in an attempt not to be foolish and waste money, I had brought a soda (yes, also QUITE terrible for a breakfast drink!) along to accompany my wheat toast breakfast (which I am currently eating). However, commuters, bus ones especially, have the annoyingly tasty habit of bringing various coffee beverages on board. Then I smell them. Then I see the cups, and, marvel of marketing (tehe), the cup reminds me of the taste, which reminds me how much I really want a coffee over a soda. I mean, instead. Not over/on. Coffee on soda might be gross. At least this morning. SO, I decide that, if I happen to get off at the stop, because someone requests it, on Huntington, that is very near a Dunkin’ Donuts (and, sadly, a Starbucks, which I can’t bring myself to go to everyday. A Dunkin’ medium is nearly twice the size of a Starbucks “medium” grande, and is still half the price. That could have to do with the fact that I get fancy stuff at Starbucks because I don’t love their plain coffee, but have built up a tolerance for Dunkin’ regular coffee (specifically iced))… then I would go get a drink. Otherwise, I’d push the button for the stop after it, a few blocks away, and go directly to work. As it happens, some happy lady pushed the “stop requested” button for the stop with the convenient coffee, and I decided to hop up and get on out of the bus, and head over for some delicious death-beverage.

All this information is just the intro to what actually prompted this entry. You see, all was fine, I stood in a very short line, ordered my medium iced coffee, no sugar, paid, and then… it was handed to me. The plastic iced-coffee cup. Inside a Styrofoam hot-coffee cup.

UGH!, I said to myself. This is not right! I do not need twice as many cups as my beverage requires. Unless I had intended to share my beverage with someone else, splitting the drink into two cups, there was no need.

Now, I had seen this before. My first introduction to the idea was at my “regular” (yikes) Dunkin’ Donuts, which I visit generally between 1 and 2 times a week. It is in the Prudential Center, it is cheaper than the one on Mass Ave and the one on Huntington (today’s stop), it is nicer, and doesn’t leave a tip cup out (oops, there it is, I’m stingy. I’ve left them tips before, but generally I don’t. Especially at Starbucks where things are already twelve prices). My regular D.D. stop had put up a sign at the beginning of iced-coffee season, saying adding a foam cup to the iced cup when ordering an iced-coffee was an additional 5 cents, or something along those lines. How odd, I had thought, that anyone would request such a thing. But still, nearly everywhere I went, I would see these double-cups from Dunkin’s. Yet, as my place never gave it without you asking, I never got one. And that is why I was so surprised this morning.

Here’s the problem. Two cups. Two cups! Who needs two cups! Is it because the iced one has so much condensation? Because it’s harder to grip when wet? More stylish (I would disagree. the foam one is very plain)? More… something else? Without a REALLY good reason, it’s just a waste of a second cup. Paying for it or not, you don’t need that second cup, do you?

So here it is: the voting section. If you feel so inspired, please place your vote via a message stating your selection, and, as always, add any comments you wish.

Tell me, is the double-cup syndrome:

TOTALLY awful! You certainly don’t need two cups. What a waste.
Completely practical! And here’s why…
Not that big of a deal, Andrle. Shove off.
Who cares? Stop wasting a variable $2 on coffee all the time, Anderschmee, you bum!
So hot. I loooove the double-cups, because it’s so in vogue.
I still don’t understand what you’re talking about.
A shame!

Pick any or all. Probably not all, for how contradictory! Anyhow. There it is.

Do not worry… I arrived at work quite early today, despite the coffee stop, and so, rather than getting back to the HUGE project that kept me here 45 minutes late yesterday (yes, that’s on top of the 10-hour day, with two 35-40 minute commutes on either end, starving kitties wondering what happened to me – or their real owners) (I’m really good at making things sound tragically worse than they really are) (and over-using parentheses and dashes today, apparently), I decided to write a semi-quick blog to express my feelings on the double-cup subject. That is all.

Happy end of July!
Happy late birthday to my awesome sister!

Kisses,
Ander-Chewie

P.S. Yes, I’m aware that my name does not have an “e” inbetween the “d” and the “r.” Boy, am I aware! But Andr-Chewie looks more to me like I was writing my name and then thought better of it. In all actuality, that is not actual. Ander (like Ender! yay the fact that all the cool people who read this have read Ender. I think. Well, Peachie certainly has!), in this case, and this case only, is better.

P.P.S. Quite a bit of condensation is building on the foam cup now as well. Which means, unless to hide the shade of the coffee, so other, less bitter coffees don’t realize they are superior, (but where in Boston to get non-over roasted, watered-down coffee is beyond me. Where are the non-chains?!?!), I don’t have a clue why one would need a double-cup. If you know, let me know, please!

i like the way

2007-07-13T12:47:00.002-04:00

before i go into the usual, droll, "this is what's going on in my dull life" chatter, i'll let you know that something potentially funny and of interest awaits you at the end of this update. exciting! so now you have something to get you through this first bit. excellent.

one minor thing: my work schedule for the summer is awesome - we work four ten-hour days as opposed to five eight-hour days. mostly it's an effort to save some electricity during the summer, which would be good for the CSPS to do. not all departments get to do this, for example, the CS Monitor editorial still has their deadlines. but luckily, CS Monitor Publishing (that's me) get to have the Friday's-off schedule. Score!

the news!!!: well, if all goes well, i should be getting an apartment (yes, a real one this time!) soon. Tracy and I would move in September 1st. it is gorgeous! well, for boston especially. what's fantastic is that it's in a pretty good neighborhood (suburb of boston, but easily accessible by T), has been renovated by it's owner (the whole building is individually owned condo apartments, and the guy who owns our place made it all pretty before deciding to start renting it out a couple years ago), has stainless steel appliances in the kitchen & extra counter space, a nicely done bathroom, a balcony!!!, and is cheaper than some of the one's we had seen the day before that weren't really that nice. the funniest thing of all is that, before seeing the place, we had looked at some others, and they weren't that great, so when we got home we decided to take another look on craigslist. tracy mentioned how awesome it would be to live near our friend jessica, esp. since her apartment is really great, so i did a search for jessica's street, and found a bunch of apartments on that same road. one, in particular looked fabulous, so i decided to take the step and call the poster. the realtor lady answered, we set up an appointment to see the place, and the next day, it turns out that the apartment is not only in the same building as jessica's, it's directly underneath hers!!! we were like, uh oh, she's going to think we're creepy, but when we told her the next day, she was quite excited. so, needless to say, we're anxiously waiting to hear whether we got the apartment or not today.

next item: "Special Months"
so, i've been elected to manage the production of the Monitor's 2008 Centennial Wall Calendar. Fabulous, huh? well, it's going to make my life uber-crazy starting right about now and for the next two or so months. but that's OK. it's going to be a fun project, and then forever after now, i can look at the calendar and say, dang, i'm responsible for that! unless it's ugly. then i'll be like, dang, they shouldn't have trusted me with that project!

anyway, as one step of the calendar production, i had to consult an almanac thingy of dates and such to get the exact 2008 holiday dates. swell. but besides having interesting facts about each day of the year (including the ever-exciting, although rather easily accessible information about celebrities birthdays , and yes, i looked up my birthday, and hell yes, jim henson, f. scott fitzgerald, kevin sorbo (hercules! heh), and nia vardalos (my big fat greek wedding) ALL share my fabulous Sept. 24 birthday. well done, famous people. maybe someday i'll be on that list as a brilliant writer!?! not at this rate, but we'll see) ... BUT the book also had this funny section - which is the point of all this chattering - with special months. for example, there are respectable ones like March is Small Press Month. April is Celebrate Diversity Month, etc. However, if you ever thought there were way too many of those things, you were right. so i copied some (many) of my favourites, and am recording them here for your benefit. Hopefully you get a laugh. And of course, as is my usual habit, i'm going to comment obnoxiously after each one. it's just in my nature. Here we go:

January
Be On-Purpose Month (good, that means the other 11 months i can be not on purpose. score)
Clean Up Your Computer Month (when i first read it, i saw "clean up your computer mouth. which, as you can imagine, struck me as humorous.)
Coffee Gourmet International Month (yum!)
Hot Tea Month (ah hah, coffee and tea - compete!)
Mailorder Gardening Month (what can i say?!)
Oatmeal Month (i get it, it's cold out in January, but still)
Radon Action Month (i'm just wondering why they decided a month was necessary for this?)

February
Bird Feeding Month (wont the poor birdies get hungry if they're only fed once during the snowy months?!)
Expect Success Month (OK!)
February Is Fabulous Florida Strawberry Month (well thank god)
Get to Know an Independent Real Estate Broke Month (i can get to know them, but i can't guarantee i'll buy anything)
Library Lovers' Month (i knew there had to be something out there for me)
Plant the Seeds of Greatness Month (absolutely. i'm planting right now)
Return Shopping Carts to the Supermarket Month (i just have to laugh at this one. it's so applicable in the boston for sure)

March
Caffeine Awareness Month (yes, i'm aware. now what?)
Collision Awareness Month (i assume they mean vehicular collision, which no, is not funny, but maybe it's refering to just bumping into people on the sidewalk? there, that's better.)
Eye Donor Month (i had no idea...)
Frozen Food Month (i do love me some good frozen food. no, for real. it keeps forever!)
Humorists Are Artists Month (true that)
Listening Awareness Month (thanks month. i love listening too.)
Mirth Month (true, march is so bleak, it needs some good mirth)
Optimism Month (ditto)
Umbrella Month (umbrellas rule!)

April
Car Care Month (okies)
Couple Appreciation Month (really? i'm pretty sure it's around april that i stop appreciating couples. damn, i've gotta fix that)
Daffynitions Month (define daffynitions! haha, OK, i'm done. that was lame.)
Grange Month (ok, good for the grangers. i like produce as much as the next.)
Holy Humor Month (dear god, i can't live without all that holy humour)
Kunckles Down Month (uhm, OK?)
Pecan Month (YES! pecans are so delicious, they completely deserve a month)
Prepare Your Home to Be Sold Month (but i don't have a home to sell!)
School Library Media Month (do school libraries really have that great of media?)
Soyfoods Month (yay! i heart soyfoods)
Twit Award Month (admittedly, i don't know what a Twit Award is. but hell, it's called the Twit Award! let's hope it's not something noble, because i think it's funny.)
Workplace Conflict Awareness Month (oh, i'm aware. watch out workplace. i'm on to you and your lame conflict.)

May
Egg Month (what about the poor chickens! they do all the work. eggs just sit there looking square. err?)
Hamburger Month (mmm... how i miss little hamburgers.)
Learn German Month (!!! yes! so, there are other months for spanish, french, italian, etcetera, but German is overlooked so frequently that i felt it was time for me to overlook the others. actually, i just didn't want to list them all. i'm clearly playing favourites. but yes, let's all learn german, shall we?)
Moving Month (actually, we used to always move in June. we got it all wrong!)
Prepare to Buy a Home Month (again, give me the cash, i'll buy a home)
Revise Your Work Schedule Month (really, can a month give you that sort of permission? i can see it now: "you're three hours late, andrle." "oh, it's may. i've revised my work schedule." or "where are all the start reports, andrle?" "hello, it's may, i've switched things around. i wont be doing those reports anymore." Yeah, that'd go really well.)
Salsa Month (the dip or the dance or both!?)
Sweet Vidalia (R) Month (for reals?! if you say so!)

June
Accordian Awareness Month (really, does one have to be "aware" of accordians? is there a shortage of accordians? are they being imported from mars? what's the issue here?!?!)
Candy Month (and since i was unaware, i didn't have nearly enough candy in June)
Celibacy Awareness Month (oh, i'm pretty aware of celibacy. but really, is this to counter the whole, it's springtime, must-mate frenzy?)
Dairy Alternatives Month (woot Vegans)
Iced Tea Month (no offense june, but i'm still drinking iced tea, and it's july. and i'll keep drinking it in august. take that.)
June Dairy Month (well that's kind of harsh. the vegans and lactose intollerant clearly come alphabetically before you with their "dairy alternatives" title. you should have come in october. although... i really do like cheese. mm.)
June is Turkey Lovers' Month (turkeys do like to love)
Men's Month (? to do what? be men? i'm pretty sure they have no control over that. well, at least without surgery)
Pharmacists Declare War on Alcoholism (what did an alcoholic ever do to a pharmacist?!)
Potty Training Awareness Month (yes, every time i see someone using the bathroom like a big boy or girl, i'm thankful and aware of their potty training. hurray.)
Steakhouse Month (ah, and now the cows are trying to show off to the turkeys, who, again, clearly beat them to the month.)

July
Bikini Month (you'll no doubt be glad to hear that this year i am not participating in bikini month)
"Doghouse Repairs" Month (their quotes. don't know why. but ok. repair those doghouses. go!)
Home Inspector Appreciation Month (i'm sensing a house buying theme. anyone else?!?)
Hot Dog Month (bah!)
Roots and Branches Month (they do serve a purpose, true)
Skyscraper Month (this makes cities happy, but how do you think it makes rural areas feel? come on, think next time, you insensitive month-assigners.)
Wheelchair Beautification Month (is there a wheelchair beauty pageant i'm unaware of?)

August
Get Ready for Kindergarten Month (you heard them! go! get ready!)
August is lame and has very few special month titles. they only had one good one. boo August. September, however, as you'll see, rules.

September
Backpack Safety America Month (i'm a little confused. is all of america involved in backpack safety? is it addressing backpacks, asking them for a safer america? who knows. in any case, i didn't realize backpacks were so unsafe.)
Be Kind to Editors and Writers Month (that's so true! be nice to me/them! ok ok, so i'm not an editor... or a great writer. whatever. still be kind.)
Biscuit Month (hot! mmm... hot biscuits!?!)
Chicken Month (ah, i get it. we celebrate the chicken after the egg. ok)
College Savings Month (I'm pretty sure if you haven't started saving for college by September, you're screwed. Ok, it could be a few years ahead. whatev'.)
Fall Hat Month (hell yes, fall hats. sign me up for one. or ten.)
Go Wild During California Wild Rice Month (i respect you, because you're about California. and i like rice. otherwise, i'd be thinking right now, wtf?)
Honey Month (how sweet. (sorry, i know, ouch.))
Library Card Sign-Up Month (i'm just thinking of the rush and crowds there'd be if you could only sign up once a year...)
Mushroom Month (no, i cannot accept this one. mushroom month, you lose.)
Organic Harvest Month (ok, that's better.)
Piano Month (if only i could play!)
Pleasure Your Mate Month (i can't comprehend a way that this wouldn't be sexual. but i can't comprehend such an overtly sexual "special month." so, ok. here it is anyway. go forth, and pleasure.)
Potato Month (delicious little tuber crop.)
Rice Month (september really does love its rice.)
Shameless Promotion Month (everyone needs an excuse now and then.)
Subliminal (you will) Communications (send me) Month (lots of money).
Update Your Resume Month (why? have you heard something at work? is my job unstable? oh no, oh crap! i'll get right on that resume updating... i guess.)

October
Adopt-a-Shelter-Dog Month (i would if my apartment (old or new) would allow it!)
Bake and Decorate Month (i will if i get to move in september.)
Celebrate Sun Dried Tomatoes Month (does celebrating mean we do or do not eat them?)
Chili Month (super hot)
Construction Toy Month (as opposed to all those other toys, which, apparently, don't hold anything to the hardcore construction toys. go away matchbox cars. shove off, barbie.)
German-American Heritage Month (solid! is that because of Oktoberfest?!)
Go Hog Wild-Eat Country Ham Month (what about city ham? is this to get back at skyscraper month?)
Go on a Field Trip Month (yes, please. can work have field trips?)
Popcorn Poppin' Month (golly gosh, i love me some popcorn poppin'.)
Positive Attitude Month (but i was already so optimistic back in March!)
Sarcastics Awareness Month (oh yeah, we really need a month just for that. i can't wait.)
Seafood Month (no thanks.)
Self-Promotion Month (i'm getting ready, as we speak.)
Spinach Lovers Month (finally! i heart spinach.)
Starman Month (i really hope they're taking about the David Bowie song!)
Vegetarian Month (so that's why my only real period of time being a vegetarian was in the month of October! how appropriate.)

November
Celebrate Empty Nester Month (yay parents who successfully got rid of their sponging kids. go renovate some rooms and walk around naked. not that i'm really in favor of naked empty nesters, let's be clear. but i was told to celebrate, so celebrate i will.)
Georgia Pecan Month (dang, pecans get all the love! i'm surprised the walnuts and peanuts and almonds and cashews etcetera haven't yet rebelled.)
I Am So Thankful Month (i'm pretty sure that's the nature of Thanksgiving Day. But sure, a month is better than just one day.)
Peanut Butter Lovers' Month (that's right!)
Pomegranate Month (!!! I had no idea November was so awesome!)
Vegan Month (well there you go! i could never be a vegan, but i'm glad they have a month, and that it's not the same as vegetarian month.)

December
Bingo's Birthday Month (B-I-N-G-O, Bingo was his name-o.)
Choose a Summer Camp Month (damn, that's thinking ahead! i guess they figure, what better time to think about sending your kids away than when everyone's stuck inside because it's so cold out.)
Learn a Foreign Language Month (i guess they had to just sum it up into Learn Some Other Language We Never Mentioned, so all the other languages don't get their feelings hurt. fair enough).

Well, my friends, if you stuck with it and read through the end, you are genuinely special. well done! There, that blog entry should hold until i find something exciting to post in the future, right?! let's hope so.

Kisses.

it could be a coma

2007-03-25T12:37:00.001-04:00

damn. not even i can understand how the heck i have let over two months go between one blog and the next. what is that!?! alas, now i am here for the blogging again, but have likely lost all readers in this two month dryspell. sigh!

WELL, for those of you who don't know, which is hopefully no one (if i haven't filled you in yet, email and punch me)... i DID get the job in el Bostonland. And have been working for many many (10) weeks thus far. and... yes, it is an office job. no, i do not get to sit on my butt all day long and write poetry and stories (sad, i know) BUT i actually really enjoy my job. it's crazy. So yeah, i work for the Monitor, but not as a journalist (that's not my kind of writing anyway) but in... dun dun dun... circulation marketing. tragic!? no. it's quite fun. the people i work with are great and there are surprisingly many creative things involved in circ marketing. yes, there are some numbers to deal with. but, for example, i got to write the creative copy (read: 3 lines of text for four ads. woot woot) for our new ads that will be appearing soon on the website (csmonitor.com) for subscription orders. I guess i probably can't convince anyone that a marketing job is fun. but i like it. it's amazing that i got this job out of college, i think. i mean, in my worst dreams i imagined myself flipping burgers at ... taco bell. actually, that would just be strange. i don't want to flip burgers, and taco bell should never start making them. but hey, if it's a bad dream, anything's possible.

so yesterday i wrote a short fiction thing. it's been a while since i've been able to write anything i actually don't hate. my poetry is kind of vile these days, and that's upsetting since i was able to produce a whole capstone of poetry that didn't completely suck last spring. ah well. but the thing that makes this an item of interest (!?!) is that, directly after i spent two hours wildy typing it, i saved it a final time, closed it, and then decided to email it to myself. cause you know, i'm paranoid. i had saved it to my desktop so i'd remember to work on it, and i wanted to rename it, so i did, but i opened the properties thing by mistake, in which you can rename the file anyway (when you right click), and i did this, opened mozilla, opened a compose mail in gmail, and went to attach the file... and it wasn't there. how strange i thought, and figured maybe it needed to be refreshed. didn't change anything. i look on the desktop. it's GONE!

now, i know what you are thinking. how could this be?!?!! it was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me. it was as if my two hours of inspired writing had all been a dream. i thought i was in the twilight zone or something... So i do all the crazy things i can think of to recover this document. and finally, about twenty minutes later, i am looking through some crazy document embedded in some settings folder and the contents of it are 1 hidden file. i think to myself, this must be my document! so i go to the control panel, change folder properties to unhide hidden folders, go to that folder... and it's not my file. BUT guess what happy document was sitting on my desktop again!?! Yes. My labor of ... pain. Ok sure. But yeah, somehow, when i had changed the name by changing the properties of the file, i had clicked the "hidden" box. which makes the file "dissappear" and not even come up when you do searches for it. which i did. under both the original name and the renamed name. le sigh!

The funny thing is, when it was missing, i kept thinking it was probably the best thing i've ever written in my life. and now that i have it again, i'm like, huh, this needs some work.

heh.

ok, is that enough craziness for one blog? I feel like i should have made up for lack of blogging in a more brilliant way, but i guess that's all i've got today.

Kisses.
A-cat.

words can't be that strong

2006-12-27T01:47:00.001-05:00

this smart car says to you "you know you want me, yes you do."

again, an incredibly long period of time with none of the BU updates. nasty, no?

so for those of you who don't know (which is no one that reads this) i am indeed moving off to the land of boston on the 2nd of january. i'm happy because i love boston and the peoples there, but i'm a little nervous because, even though i'm going in for a second interview on friday, i'm still heading out without a job. bleh. i wish money didn't exist. and, hell, i'm nervous about everything all the time. why should this move be any different? :/

anyhow, i just spent an hour looking for a glue stick. why do things disappear in this apartment?

some kisses.

i was there!

2006-10-17T00:31:00.001-04:00

picture attack!
i was actually at this place, like a little over a month ago. september 06, to be exact. holy crap.

that is all. i just wanted to report that i now have access to my england pictures because brian let me use his mac to load my pics and burn a disk of them. yay. so, that's hot. very hot. thus beginneth the downpour of england pictures.

kisses.

back from land of eng

2006-10-15T14:15:00.001-04:00

sadly, we all must return from the happy land of the U.K. so i did. because they made me. i'm back at college for a little over three weeks and then i'm all graduated. yikes! mayhaps i shall move to boston this january as well. that would be keen, but who knows if i would even get a job there? wait, i'm cute and friendly and have job experience. hah.

so, this was supposed to be a thrilling blog entry about my trip, including many fun pictures of joy, but unfortunately my happy laptop is at home and i can't load pictures on the school computers because they are mean and don't want to accept my camera. so the above is one i stole from a guy on my abroad. pretty, no? this was part of the building of the school/dorm we stayed at in Oxford, called Wadham. le sigh. i want to go back.

anyway, i have to do real things. maybe. that might be a lie. anyway. i must go.

cheers. ;)

Britain and all that entails

2006-09-27T09:06:00.001-04:00

Greetings all!

I am in the england place right now, and it is most splendid. i realized i have not had a chance to post in quite some time. and heck, why not do it when i'm supposed to be working in the shakespeare institute library!?!

so, we are currently in stratford. first was oxford, then london for three weeks, and now stratford for about 1.5 more weeks. then we must, most sadly, return to prinland for four weeks. oh, the agony! it will be particularly cruel having to be stuck on campus with no transportation directly after having been in a nice foreign country with everything at our fingertips for six weeks. alas.

anyhow, i wanted to have at least one blog before i depart the u.k., and i felt, what better time than now? i have many keen pictures to post, but of course no way to actually get them onto the computer so i must wait. that's ok. hopeuflly i'll be able to make a disk of pictures when i get on campus, even if i must use their computers because mine will be stuck in wisconsin far away from me. sad times twelve! i'm trying to come up with some master plan that would make it possible for me to get my cute laptop down to college so i could use it those four weeks. but really, there is no way. frown.

enough of my spoiledness. i should be researching for my sick 15 page paper. so now i leave to do that i suppose.

cheers,
kisses,
andrle the tart.

don't you get it dear?

2006-08-05T16:35:00.001-04:00

i just deleted some of the numerous andrleshots that existed on my blog. sorry, i didn't realize how tacky it was until i went back and looked over them. i kept many, mostly because i discussed them in the blog. ANYWAY, above is a (modified) picture from out our window here at the hotelo. mum and i are up northwest a bit (minneapolis) for her association. So, today i stayed in our supa-fancy hotel suite. and got bored, obviously. so i took pictures of the hotel room as well as our view. yeah... we have some buildings and the parking garage. that spells h-o-t. yep. if we were on the other side, our view would be the street. that would have been really cool... i could have tried to get shots of the drop. (we're on the 10th floor apparently.) BUT, this is what you get instead.

hmm... i'm enjoying my "mini-vacation." this is the second time this break i've had to go up to minnesota. strange. of all the places. but, at least this time i don't have to go to the mall of america. yay.

kisses.

hmph.

you make a rift inside me

2006-08-01T21:07:00.003-04:00

the same is the current status of anderschmee :

packing for moving
buying nice things for trip to england
wasting time

i am going to leave you with a poem from my capstone:

Gunshot in the West

Pillows sluggishly heaped against the wall sit
like drunk men asleep, like men in sombreros,
slumbering until the heat of the day or the noises
of gunshots start them out of their sleep.
I'm not in the southwest today, I'm not
there observing the scene, walking on sand,
passing sun-dried cacti. But I feel as dangerous
as the prickly plant. Don't touch me, I'll be fine.
I'll lie slumped against the wall
with the pillowmen as my friends.

Kisses.

i'm too tired NOT to be dirty...

2006-07-28T02:33:00.001-04:00

this is the book (you should clicke to full-size and absorb the absolute glamour) i've hijacked/stolen/extensivelyborrowed from the library two summers in a row now. how did i achieve this? it was simple. both times i found the book sitting innocently on its shelf, and plucked it from its safe-haven. i checked it out, but as the due date grew near, i simply went online, clicked to renew it, and secured its residence in my home for three more weeks. i have done this twice each time. that is almost 18 weeks of stealing total. damn i'm good.

what is the attraction? certainly not the dude on the front cover. he leaves much to be desired. but there are many things. for example, about a year ago i quoted the dedication page. to avoid redundancy, i shall not restate it, but those of you who remember (or who will now invest the time to go searching for it. well done, by the way) know how excellently keen it is. in addition, i think it's kind of hot that the book is older than i am. this is evident in delicious first date stamp:
indeed, let us trace the marvelous history of said book.

The Best of Philip K. Dick, with introduction by John Brunner (your guess is as good as mine), was published by Ballantine Books under Del Rey in 1977. My current library, Cook Memorial Library (what are they memorializing? a city once not overpopulated? a county once a day's travel away from chicago? likely someone who died outside their door attempting to return a book 5 weeks overdue) received the collection on March 8, 1978, as multiple date stamps on the first several pages in small red print indicate.

The first checking out was probably three weeks prior to that April 18, 1978 due date (pictured above. you couldn't have missed it). There was fairly steady checking out in '78. However, tragedy struck in '79 and '80 when it was only checked out twice per year. perhaps everyone was just buying it instead because they so craved the book's continual presence in their places of dwelling.
A slight revival occured in '81, continuing through '87. We shall not speak more of the absence of duedatestamps in 1988, nor shall we muse about the last-minute December 26, 1989 borrowing. But rest assured, there are three pages full of stampings. The book is pretty darn semi-popular. No doubt, had i borrowed from a more exciting library, they would have had to remove the duedatestampingpages due to their accumulating thickness. people love the book, i swear to you.

Let me, for a moment, backtrack and point out this obviously exciting and thrilling stamp:Those of you who have the misfortune of knowing me personally probably have heard me drone on endlessly about the fact that i was born. i mean, that i was born on September 24, 1983. gasp, now you can use that information against me. dmandnitifit! anyway, you see above that some wonderfully brilliant citizen of the world had checked out this particular book during the time of my impending birth. indeed, if the dude (or woman i suppose) had it
was he likely a losernerdwithuglyglasses kind of guy? it's probable. i don't care who it was, i'm not going to seek them out and marry them. but it's pretty hot. yeah. hot.

Back to the facts. The other facts. The uberclassic science fiction has been written masterfully by Dick, who Brunner heralds as the "most consistently brilliant science-fiction writer in the world!"

Wanna know how brilliant it is? Let me "read" to you the back cover's short mention of one of my favourite stories in the collection.

"HUMAN IS. There is more to being a human being than looking like one - and when she discovered that, she knew all would be well!"

This gives you a hint (i know i'm pretty sure p.k.d. didn't write the backcoverschtick himself, but if these words describe his words, then come on) at the excellence (stemming from its oddness) that is this collection. The collection i've kept in my room two summers in a row, renewing as many times as they allow me. it isn't because i've read each story 20 times, yeah that would be a lie. but, let's face it, the book is damn hot. you wish you were philip k. dick. yes, you do.

kisses

p.s. oh yeah, and i guess p.k.d will be more famous a bit now if the new movie a scanner darkly doesn't suck a lot. so, yeah, go that? sure.

my pony beats up your pony

2006-07-24T22:31:00.001-04:00

i'm a blogging machine.

i'm the head lobster prostitute

2006-07-24T20:55:00.003-04:00

we're effing moving again. yes, i know. shut up. i don't want to hear it. i would be fine except it's back to el sucko wisconsino again. ok, wisconsin does not suck. but the fact that we're moving back there does. for reasons such as: we have to have an ugly apartment that is the size of my bedroom alone. we have to have zero kitchen. we have to get rid of everything in the world. i have to move everything nearly on my own. it has to be moved to an upstairs apartment. we have heavier things now than we did the last move. people always make fun of me for moving all the time. go ahead. i will kick you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

now then, that being said... here is something fun. rebekah collected the supposedly funny things that i have said the last couple years. how could i have possibly said funny things? i don't know. BUT here are some of the things actually made me laugh out loud (i was sorting through my files and found it again today. lucky you!). so, imagine you understand the context and/or care. and read the following excerpts: (p.s. all are by me, sadly, unless otherwise noted)

We're fine here. We're like cookies and cream.

I have Jesus in my fingertip and Mary in my ass.

I am a mushroom of delight.

It's almost like a kiss except that was its nose.

Don't put my elephant on a stick.

You mean all animals don't make the same noise as my kitty?

Okay, defy the laws of physics and poke me in the eye with a car!

You're paralyzed and burned - it's like love!

It's my realm of sexiness - you entered my coolness.

Evidently i just reign supreme over the game.

I'm licking my paper. I'm trying to persuade this part to stick to the other.

It's better than silence : it's art.

My tea and I will always be friends. (to tea) what? You were only created today? I've been around for years.

The hand poem is the only thing I've got.

I let other people's butt touch my fabric all the time.

I'm a poor little chicken.

They're dumb. (Andrle)
Can you expand on that? (Rebekah)
They're really dumb. (Andrle)

... a whole collection from when i was doing taxes ...
You only get money if you're in kindergarten.
It's like a triple tax of doom.
My whole body is dying from the decay of taxes.

I don't want to live in Canada. I want to live in nowhere.

What do baby raptors want? Fame? Fortune? No! They want the other F. Flesh.
I could have fortune. I wouldn't care about the flesh... flesh soggy with blood.

Curiosity killed the cat and the cactus.

I think I'm allowed to separate my depression from the people who caused it.

If I bring a gun there will be danger. You annoy me - psshew. YOu remind me of my taxes - psheew.

I rolled and popped like a confused poptart.

I'm as stylish as a monkey on crack.

(On the age of appropriate men. for me.) Under forty - you're good to go.

That's me... the kinkmeister.

That one was pushing the button of limits.

Pot day? That's something you can really sink your teeth into.

I'd rather get some sex any day than boatage.

I have to do some things before i leave. (Andrle)
Like what? (REbekah)
Get laid. (Andrle)

I may be the head prostitute in the play... I'm the head lobster. I'm the head lobster prostitute... there's mroe than one prostitute in your play? Hey, i'm loose and I boss women around... I'm the head of a brothel.

You're so efficient, you're like a Muppet.

I can't get out of my bed because i'm at the edge.

It's not insulting to say a well-taught older man is over forty.

You're like the dragon in Beowulf... in a really cute way.

Bits and bobs don't cover everything.

That was a good day. Unlike thos other days that don't have dates.

It would be like Christmas except you wouldn't lose anything... I'm going to bring this up. Barak Obama, do you think it would be possible for the world not to have a day one day?

Okay Led Zeppelin, you can play in my ears. That would be kind of weird - my ears are kind of small.

I'm just telling you, John Cusack doesn't like it when people threaten me.

If i had something to throw at you i would throw it at you. Just so you know.

It's not my job to memorize like a penguin.

I have only to look in the mirror to see the truth of the bugs.

I'm just the weird girl here to invade souls.

You're not even on crack like i am. (notetothosefreakingout: idontdo/usecrack)

God does not punish us for mistakes. (Rebekah)
Satan does! (Andrle)

You'll never remember me - until the glint of sunshine.

Sailors are nice. (Rebekah)
They smell of fish! And i don't like fish! (Andrle)

I don't make much noise when i am muffled.

You're a mushroom of delight. (Rebekah)
Whatever, I'm a crack whore. (Andrle)

I think i'm like King Lear. I'm crazy. People betrayed me.

My legs are open to the world in these pants. They're loose you know.

You're friends with the people you can't date... it's obvious Jeremiah and i aren't hot for each other. We're friends, not dating.

I always say, get away vile vampire man! Or woman. Vampires can be women.

It could be a smock if it was different material and made slightly differently and had straps.

Fools! Ficiton!

He can't help himself, he's just a computer.

It came out of the copier like that. ( Rebekah)
Those bastards. (Andrle)

Was that me or you? It was You toying with the Sobe bottles and hurting their little feelings.

I am Jesus to a lot of people.

We're like Soul Brothers, except i am not a man. (About Billy Miller - professor at prin)))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's plenty humiliation to last a lifetime. Now go make fun of me because we're moving again.

Serious lack of kisses,
A-cat.

this at the end of it all

2006-06-03T02:14:00.001-04:00

that be my capstones. i mean, those are the first four copies i made of my capstone. they are chapbooks of my poetry, which include a lengthy artist statement and 22 poems. i actually thought i had included more poetry, but my contents page (which is accurate) says otherwise. so ok. maybe there are 24 and i miscounted because i'm so sleepy. but i doubt it. SO, the picture below:
...is of all the materials i used to make them. (you should click to full size it.) i made six more tonight. my fingers hurt. making stab-bound books requires pressing down a lot to cut the edges of the pages with an x-acto knife. and all sorts of other maneuvering. here, since someone asked, is the process:

print the pages with an appropriate layout.
knock up the sheets (which is the actual term for making sure all the edges are flush) on all sides, and, using a carpenter's rule, cut with x-acto knife many times. you have to slice the pages a couple at a time, or however many slice. so it requires about... 13 swipes for 30-some pages. i don't know why i'm explaining in this much detail. it's kind of irrelevant.
anyway, the one step in there that was extra for me was cutting a larger sheet of nicer paper into two things and putting it in with the batch in the last step. this made those nice blank pages in the front and back. i ran out of nice paper after the first ... 8?. so the toher two have plain paper, but it looks just as nice.
then, when all the pages have been cut, lay it over the material for the covers. mark just a little larger so there's space. cut the front and back cover at the same time, again using the carpenter's rule.
then, you knock up the sheets, align the edges, and center the papers on the one edge against the cover. (i'm not making exact sense. sorry.)
mark the places for four holes, using a ruler to make sure they will be the same distance from the edge.
using an aul (or, if you have too many pages like i did, using a power drill !) stab (drill) the four holes, making sure the pages and covers stay in place.
take a thread roughly four times the length of the binding area, and sew.
using a bone folder, score the side where the binding is, so the cover opens nicely.
you are done. tada.

uhm, i know i bored a few people, and others just skimmed. but in case anyone is at all interested or cares (oddly enough), there it is.

ok, now i'm going to take a shower and sleep. this last week has not been a week of much sleep for the andrle. i've basically been getting an average of four hours a night for over a week. it sounds not that bad i guess, but i'm exhausted. so off i go...

kisses.
(i'm done with my capstone! (as if you couldn't tell.) woot woot!)

London Heathrow Ticket for the Anderschmee!

2006-05-14T16:40:00.001-04:00

It's official. I mean, it's been official for a couple months now. But now i've got the ticket to take me to... England! hurrah! Yes, it was costly. But yes, i knew that was going to be the case. Here is the keenness: i'm flying with Natalie there and back, which is super. flying directly from chicago to london going there (8 hours) and coming back we go from london to chicago, and then chicago to st louis, since we have to return to el prinlando for play rehearsals, paper writings, and the performance. yeah. prin directly after the land of eng. whatever shall we do!?! but it's hot. i've got my e-ticket, and i'm looking into frequent flyer miles, if it's not too late. tehe.

oh my. why must i write a paper and not fly to england this moment? paper writing is such a sad sunday activity. and there's the phi alpha sha-beta-whatever it is initiation for the new smart peoples today at 6. so i have to go to that, as a responsible member of the group. there will be desert at least, so that's hot. hopefully it's not longer than an hour. 'cause i need to do much of the homing work.

what else, what else. i believe that is all i've got for you today. i'm super excited to have purchased the London tickets. even if it's going to destroy my bank account. alas!

kisses.

intergalactic, super bombastic

2006-03-16T14:02:00.001-05:00

i guess this is as good a place as any to speak of the trauma that was, coming home on the amtrak train. i've told it to several people already, so lucky for you all (!?) this will be the condensed version. essentially, within five minutes of me getting on the train, it stopped. everything, including electricity, shut off. i figured, based on my limited train experience out in boston, that it was just shutting down for a bit, and would restart in a few seconds. seconds turned to minutes, turned to hours, and ended up being three hours. sitting like a duck. in the middle of nowhere. i got to see the middle of some alton, illinois "forest" for forever. yeah. just what i wanted. the engine of the train died. so we had to wait for the another train to come and push us. but for some reason pushing was really slow. so as soon as we were off of the path that just had one track, the other train went around us and then hooked up to us and we finally got power back (as in, air conditioning and freshness. it was actually a day of 70-some degrees out. so it got pretty hot in the upper level of the train) and then they pulled us along. but ultimately, we must have been going a little slower because i arrived in chicago four hours later than scheduled. so. five hour trip turned nine. alas. and my poor mummie had to wait downtown for me for like five of those hours! then we caught the very last train back from downtown chicago to lake bluff. which was another hour. so i was on trainage for ten hours that day. not keen.

that was much longer than i had hoped. oops. anyway, it's good to be home. it's nice to be in the real world again. more to come.

kisses.

underneath it all i'm really just a geek

2006-03-06T15:47:00.001-05:00

The call numbers for children's books in teh library are obnoxious. It's like someone, in an spazzy fit was all, "oh no, this genre is over-populated... too many books, not enough call numbers... quick, vomit a random number of numbers on the book!" and some call-number-writer-loser was like "oh, ok, M ... 43269219764. Phew. That number can't have been taken yet." But of course, for the delight of college student library workers like me, there will inevitably be an M43269219763, and an M43296127946, and M43291827946. and multiply those variants by 90 billion.

yes, andrle had to deal with an obnoxiously large amount of books to prepare in carts today. and children's books are the worst. they don't stand up well by themselves, all the numbers are on the front cover, not the side for easy viewing, and they have insanely random and terrible call numbers. i can only imagine the hell that would be actually having to reshelve those puppies upstairs. at least i was only working with a group of 3,000, not 8million. boo. and this was all on an insanely small amount of sleep, i might add. bleh. yeah, so last night was not the night of fun. all day yesterday, actually, was spent (or felt like it was spent) working on my damn annotated bibliography for practical criticism. sounds like it would be pretty simple, huh? yeah. but then take into account that we had to summarize the argument and base it on one of the 30-some critical theories we learned this term, citing all the reasons that it is relevant. and stuff. we were supposed to do this all in one paragraph per source. in some cases that was ok, but for others, not. it took me, i'd say, 90 years to complete. i was up until 5am, at which point i realized i wasn't getting much accomplished anymore. so i work up at 9am and finished it all before i had to go to work at 11:30. rar! at the beginning of this blog i was thinking, oh good, i can report i'm not doing too badly, and am rather awake. but as i lay here, typing away, i'm slowly feeling the drag. alas.

just now i made about 20 phonecalls. that was a lie. it was actually done in about the middle of that last paragraph. and it wasn't quite 20, and i just left messages for people, because you can do that here, instead of having to let their lines ring. genius invention, that. now if everyone calls me back, my phonemail will get all filled up real-quicklike. booyah. but it's been like ten minutes, and nothing yet. losers.

go listen to modest mouse's bankrupt on selling. it's the keen times twelve.

this time next week i will have slept in my bed at home, and my puppy will be around, and my mum and i can go do something, and it will be glorious because i'll be at home for spring break. trala. grand. i have a great many things to do to keep me busy (like getting a passport!!! for england!!! but that's acutally one of the fun ones. others are more along the line of taxes. and financial aid applications. ew.) but it will still be awersome to be all home and stuff. jeni, if you're reading, we should indeed do something if you have time. i don't know what my schedule will be like exactly, but we can figure that out maybe. i will be home (not including traveling) the 13-24. yay.

what will andrle do next?
a. get started on her practical crit. paper due saturday
b. take a nap until work at 4pm.
c. call up mr. keen man and ask him to marry her. or kiss her.
d. all of the above. (note, a and b are rather difficult to do simultaneously. so chose this option as a last resort.)

it's your guess.
kisses.

a disappointment, i am sure

2006-02-21T14:06:00.001-05:00

i tried seaweed today. it tasted like getting caught in an ocean current. i couldn't stand it. last week i tried vegemite. at first i thought it was yummy, but then the aftertaste choaked me.

kisses.

an oldie but a goodie

2006-01-20T20:29:00.001-05:00

tonight i experienced a great thing. i had left my room to call my mum and try out cell phone reception on the bluffs... it turned out that i did indeed get reception and we chatted for a nice amount of time. it was a little cold, but that was probably only because i was foolish and wearing flipflops because it had been warmer earlier. and also only a track-jacket. so, not warm, esp. with the breeze. anyway, after our discussion, which mostly involved my trying to help her with computer things (i taught her the control-alt-delete trick tonight), i decided to stay out and so i walked a little farther (i got the best reception at first standing just behind the chapel -like, in the actual back, back- where it was very dark) to the bench near the side of the chapel. i just sat there on the bench, looking out over the river, totally consumed by the scene. i've looked out over the bluffs many times before, at night too even. i've always liked doing that, but tonight was quite possibly the first time i'd been there myself. i think i was there 15 minutes until i realized i was frozen to the core and had to pull myself away from the lights.

sigh. that is what college is truly about. taking time to appreciate things for real. and i didn't feel bad for doing that instead of homework, because it's actually part of my daily assignment for advanced creative writing seminar : to take time out of each day for reverie, and then journal about it afterwards.

booyah.
and kisses.

left you with no defense

2006-01-11T16:18:00.001-05:00

this blog is in lieu of actual homework-doing. rock solid. i miss my poochie. see how cute he is?!? yes, my desk was messy then. and, also yes, there are two laptops there. oops!

anyway, college is ok. it's strange to be back. but not all that strange. i'm just back. and taking all sorts of thrilling courses. here they be:

Advanced Creative Writing Seminar (i'll be focusing on a major poetry project. i'm trying to figure out how this will vary from my capstone next term. huh.)
Practical Criticism (literary theory and all sorts of dull and difficult english stuff)
Intro. to Philosophy (i'm glad i'm finally getting to take a phil. class. i'm liking it so far, and it's not terribly difficult, which helps with the other two classes)
Intermediate Tennis (yep, again. hey, it's my last PE requirement. hurrah)

so that is that. today at 5pm, after i get back from working in the mail room, i'm going to meet with my RC, Christy, for some pizza. i think we're going to joyous Alton for it, so that'll be a trip. then, i have to cram in a junk-o-homeworks until my house board meeting at 9pm. expect that to last an hour. i'm tired. and lazy. tralala.

anyway, this was mostly just a post to waste time and to make up for the major lack of postings in the last week. or so.

kisses.

shirt tucked in and your shoes untied

2005-12-31T00:26:00.001-05:00

i'd be lying if i said i wasn't a little scared about going back to prin.

a day in the life of ... all things wrong

2005-12-28T01:39:00.001-05:00

today has not been spectacular. things just keep not being right. so, instead of getting over it, or being mature, i'm listing them here. waht follows is my big-ole-collection of complaints for today. yeah, i'm uber positive.

i slept until noon. not too big of a problem, except i had a lot of stuff to do before work.
a james bond marathon has interrupted star trek two days in a row now. normally, fine. but i only have three days this week when i wont be working during the day and could actually watch star trek:tng. then i have to go back to college, where cable is virtually non-existant. (yes, i realize it would probably be better to like james bond than admit being sad because i've not been able to watch star trek two days in a row. but oops!)
i wasn't feeling well and wanted my mum to drive me to work, (sad but true! i must be a baby) but a coworker/friend of my mother's stopped by the house and then it turned out that she went with us to my work (fine), but this meant that, when we got there 30 minutes before i had to start work, i was just dropped off and didn't get to hang or anything. i kind of had wanted to get some coffee and talk to my mum a bit, since i only have 4 days before i go back to school and haven't seen her much lately, as our schedules conflict. but instead, i stood in the front area of old navy (the only place i get reception in the building) and talked to rebekah. which was great, but it looked kind of strange that i was hanging out talking on my cell phone in the front of on. and, i really don't like "hanging out" at work when i'm not working. or quickly shopping. or somehitng.
counting the drawers took longer than usual tonight because one of them was off by 200 $, because someone thought it would be a great idea to put the bills in the dropsafe of the register next to them rather than their own. thanks guys. and, all the paperwork was a mess tonight 'cause people are still returning everything they ever bought from old navy, and 90 percent of the time without a receipt, which means more paperwork. (this may be a tad bit of an exaggeration.)
on the way home, since i hadn't had any dinner, i stopped by taco bell. they have recently gotten rid of my favourite burrito ever (since i turned somewhat veggie), the bean burrito especial. they replaced it with a vile, despite tasty sounding, ricecheesebean burrito. i ordered mine without salsa, because i seem to despise tomatoes and onions living in my food. the guy asked me, you don't want the sauce? and i said, oh, no, just not the salsa. and he was like, oh, ok. i got my burrito and when we got to the car, i took a bite to make sure it was ok. the first bite was fine. so we drove away. the second bite : tomatoes. and onions. galore. le sigh. i tried to fish them out, but they were hidden throughout the burrito. so mum had a burrito. sigh! sigh!
just now, i decided i would watch my new netflix disc, which this time was actually not episodes of six feet under or s.t., but the Anchorman movie with Will Ferrell. i've never seen it, and, be it funny or not, i want to see it! so, all excited to watch a movie before bed, i open the netflix package, slip the dvd out of the case, and... two pieces fall out.

yeah. broken. my life sucks. they'll send another one, and i can get another burrito someday, and i only have to count cash drawers one more night. but that does me no good now!

so, excuse me ... i must go pout. but i'll probably just go to sleep.

christmas of very merry

2005-12-25T21:50:00.001-05:00

love and joy.

i've got my reasons

2005-12-17T01:37:00.001-05:00

happy one-year-blogging anniversary to me.

:0

"all those days are gone : as far as the stars are : away from the midday sun"

2005-12-07T16:35:00.001-05:00

boston trip is sadly over. i'm home and safe and have been for a couple days. the above picture (clicky for big) is all over my stuff these days. i like it a lot. it's the view of the Pru, Sheraton, and whichever the farthest left hotel is. taken out of tracy's back window. amazing.

i had much fun, but now it's over and i'm back working everyday again. sigh. the things we do. soon i'll have to go back to prin. oh my.

kisses.

simple as magic

2005-12-02T15:28:00.001-05:00

OMG ... i love boston! if you're in boston, call me, i want to see you. (216.262.8587)

Last night i flew in and my brother met me at the airport. then i went to dinner with he and his girlfriend. it was great fun. then we walked over to asher where i hung with el-rob. super keen! and finally, t-dawg joined us after class. then i slept. then i awoke. now i am wasting time (quite happily) until the peoples are back from their working. this is an odd entry.

rockon.

i know the way you feel, like the rain's outside

2005-11-29T01:38:00.001-05:00

december 17th will be my blog's one-year anniversary. cute, eh? methinksso. i wanted to check the actual day i had started it, and whilst checking, i skimmed the december entries. i think back then i said better things, even though they were more frequent. it just seemed like i acutally had something to say, unlike my usual these days.

work tomorrow, the next day, and then i fly to boston! i have to pack, but i don't know when. i will probably be a loser and make a list. because i always make lists. even for small, five-day trips. believe it.

kiss kiss.

you can barely hear the note

2005-11-19T01:21:00.001-05:00

tonight i worked until 10pm, then i drove up to kenosha (about a 40 minute drive) to pick my mum up at a busstop. she didn't want me driving to o'hare, so she took a bus and that was the first stop. the stop was right next to a taco bell, and i hadn't any dinner yet, so i got a yummy onion-less bean burrito and some small nachos and a drink. we sat in the lot so i could eat it, 'cause she was too tired to drive. then we drove home.

darcy was so excited to see mum. twas so cute. he's such a great dog. i swear! who would i have talked to if he weren't here while mum was gone? seriously, i talk to my dog, i'm not that strange.

i, myself, get to go to boston soon. less than two weeks. i love that city, it's been about 2.5 years since i've been there... it will be great. i do get to see my brother too, which will rock. i also haven't seen him for 2.5 years too... wow, that's insane. i can't believe how the time flies.

i'm at home now (obviously), and tired, but i think i may watch something from netflix (read: either six feet under or star trek. ha.) instead of sleeping right off.

"i wish one could order up dreams"

2005-10-28T03:44:00.001-04:00

i avoided a social situation last night because the restaurant didn't offer any vegetarian meals.
that's a lie. i avoided it because i felt gross, and realized i'm bad at socializing.

then today i ate chicken for lunch. it didn't taste good or bad. but it did mean that my week of vegetarianism was just that. a week. but, i can go forth without red meat. and very little chicken. i've been putting a lot and lot of thought into why i went vegetarian. was it because i was shocked by some images on tv, and worried by world beliefs about the harm of meat?!? was it just the gross factor that got me, or was it really that i want to stop cruelty of animals and can't fathom eating something that was live? i think i suck because i just went ahead and ate the chicken sandwich today. but i think i have to figure out what i should really do. either way, less meat and more other things good for you is ... good for you. right?!?

my poochie is laying sweetly curled up on my pillows, and it's going to be very hard for me to justify moving him so i can go to sleep.

life in a bucket

2005-10-24T03:07:00.001-04:00

well another day another dollar. i'm off for a day now, which is great. the new stuff in my life: not a whole lot. so why blog? i don't know. it's been a while.

warning: next paragraph is both boring, a little disgusting, and probably not something anyone will care about.

today was day three of my vegetarianism. strange but true. why the change? here's the cold, hard truth: i guess i've always wanted to be a vegetarian, but i knew i lacked what it took, thus my aggression toward such. i really don't know why i was always all, i could never be a vegetarian, and wouldn't want to either. but anyway, i was watching a show on the history channel (yeah, weird also) and saw a cow limping around, and i nearly cried. then i thought, what the heck is wrong with me? why would i want to eat that cow? then, directly after, there was a show about Modern Day Butchers. hint hint? i guess. and, somewhere in between watching the cows being dragged around by their feet (wouldn't we totally freak out if footage of skinned dogs, horses, or even people were shown on tv?) and seeing the process of meat being packaged and shipped and such, the idea to convert was basically solidified. then, recently, whenever i look in the fridge, i'm like, eww... that's what grossed me out before, but i ate it anyway. and yeah, i used to love eating it. so weird!!! maybe i'll change my mind, but right now i don't even feel any need to eat meat. huhhuhhuh.

so, if you read that, here is what you are probably thinking: a. andrle is so full of it, b. what a hypocrite, c. it wont last, and/or d. boo andrle!

but hopefully instead you are thinking: a. yay andrle!, or b. andrle is cool because she has brown hair, c. i like to go to the park, or d. rock solid.

ehem. that's my spiel. now for something completely different: nope, i've got nothin'.

night & kisses.

giant rabbit nibbling on my pride

2005-10-17T01:07:00.001-04:00

tehe. the weekend was quite fun. lynne and kyla came up, and i had an incredible amount of good times. it's amazing how much i've just gotten into a rut - i hang out with no one my age (or even near it) unless you consider working with a wide array of high schoolers and collegey kids at o.n. "hanging out." i don't, especially since nothing more than small talk ever occurs. so. i had a blast. i've not laughed and enjoyed myself quite like that in a while now.

the main day was saturday, when we went downtown chicago on the metra and walked about ten lovely blocks to the art museum. which is actually called the art institute of chicago, but museum nonetheless. it's been ages since i was walking around a big city and since i've been to a museum (last was Boston, and the MFA (museum of fine arts) in Boston). when i was at the MFA, it was for a short amount of time and i didn't get to see much at all. luckily, since i was only able to be there for about 40 minutes (gross, i know), i was still under 18 at that point (i think i had less than a month before i wasn't anymore. heh. how time flies.) so i believe i either got in for free or for really cheap. anyhow, that time all i got to see that i remember was some great Van Gogh. splendid indeed, but not much for a trip to the MFA.

SO, this trip was fruitful indeed. first we viewed photography, then some architectural art, some african, native american, and south american art, etc. but, i have to admit that the highlight for andrle was seeing some Van Gogh (yey, again), Monet, Kandinsky, Picasso, (i believe) Degas, and some great Renoir. oh, and the original A Sunday on La Grande Jatte by Seraut. and, mr. gogh's self-portrait. sigh. the amazing part is that i was seeing the actual painting... the actual brushstrokes. it's so incredible. i'm not an art buff in the least, and hearing the pseudo-intellectual snobs walking around speaking in their most analytical yet pretentious voices about their impression of each art makes me want to gag a little. but, seeing the real thing, seeing something that's lasted the ages and is sitting there right in front of you. man. so cool. i wonder how much a season/year(?) pass for a poor student would be ;).

anyway, that's all i've got. darcy needs to go for a walk and have his dinner, and who am i to deny such a sweet dog his supper.

Kisses.

har har har

2005-10-11T00:37:00.001-04:00

working retail has, again, to no one's surprise i'm sure, ... surprised me (!?!). the last five days have been mega exhausting, but i'm actually going into the next two (yes, read, 7 days in a row of pure, old navy, clothes selling hell) with a somewhat optimistic attitude. could it be the light at the end of the tunnel? or perhaps the fact that i'll have two days off together afterwards? or maybe the fact that i will get to see my awer-some friends for a couple days? (lynne and kyla are coming up to visit me from prinland. hurrah! i will get to hang out with two people under 50! rock! now, if only they'd bring some men. ehem.) who knows. the cold hard fact is this : i'm not cut out for the retail world. just stick me in an office, don't make me try to sell things, and let that be that.

BUT, preferably, stick me at home, let me write all day long, and publish stuff. and THAT would be THAT. yeah. yum.

maybe i'm missing being at college this term. maybe that's it.

anyway, i have to walk my poochie and get some sleep, else i will be good for nothing tomorrow morning at 9am. yes, i worked until 10:45 tonight. yeah. joy.

kisses.

probably somewhere

2005-10-02T13:04:00.001-04:00

the trip to prin was great. i loved seeing all "my people" and stuff. being on campus was odd, only because it didn't seem as odd as i thought it would. by which i mean, i was walking to the library to meet kyla the last night, and i was like, i've walked this path thousands of times. and now, here i am doing it again, but i'm not here this quarter. maybe this doesn't make sense to you. i'm not sure even how ot put it into words. so, if you get it, let me know.

anyway, the poet was awesome. he gave me lots of wonderful feedback on my poem. and he told me that it was one that would stay with him forever! i should take this as a compliment, coming from a very prominent poet. so i'm going to. try. it was really cool though. the last poet we had didn't say much really about the poems. so this was a good upgrade. ;)

'aight, i must get some breakfast/lunch, and ready for work since i now have to leave in one hour. bah humbugs.

kisses.

well, it's my birthday too, yeah

2005-09-24T01:24:00.001-04:00

i am now 22 years into this existence. whoop. today (well yesterday, technically, but i haven't gone to bed yet, so still today for me) we went to ikea finally! the store was amazingly great. if i had a billion dollars and a million houses to decorate (or something) i would have the fun of a lifetime. well, maybe that would be too much. i don't care. anyway, they've got the stuff. i'm telling you. the sucky part is that, to keep their prices so reasonable, you have to a. get the stuff onto a (small) flat thingy, b.push the flats around without running into things or people (esp. difficult when it's off-balance), c. somehow get the gi-normous boxes into car or van, and d. assemble everything. i think that none of those things would ahve been a problem if we'd only gotten one thing. but, here is what i got (in some smashing bullet form since it's been a while)

hot bookcase/shelves thing of extraordinary storageness. it's basically one of those square things with little cubes, 25 to be exact. and about 6ft x 6ft. super stylish (or it will be when assembled), by far the heaviest piece. 195 lbs said the box. they put it in three boxes, but one was just... vile. anyway, i don't care about the weight, it's so pretty!
g-reat new bedframe and matching bedside "table" i guess it's difficult to describe the bedside thingy, 'cause it's certainly not a table table. it attaches to the headboard and has a drawer toward the bottom, and a thing for books, alarm clock, cellphone, whatever. this isn't me describing at my best. pictures to come (likely)!
neato shelfdrawer thang for my closet
suh-weet desk with shelves up above and stuff. hurrah!
a few... keen accessories. rock.

so, that is that. mum and i are going to start to put things together tomorrow. i was going to try tonight, but i'm basically more exhausted than i was during hte move last week, believe it or not. i guess too many really heavy things all at once did it maybe? but i don't know, i usually lift more than i should normally. so who knows, huh? either way, it doesn't matter, i don't have to hurt. doobey doo. so, i'm happy i gots da stuffs, but a little sad that it's just sitting in boxes, or looking at me in its sad, disassembled array.

tomorrow i have to wake up early! boo. oh well. 8:45 isn't too early, right? i should sleep now, i'm exhausted. i'm also going down to prin on wednesday for a poet who will be there two days. on friday, we drive back up. should be fun i guess. i was just surprised to actually get the time off from work so easily.

night everyone.

that's so your sparkle

2005-09-15T00:42:00.001-04:00

to all the world, hello.

i'm so thrilled and excited about decorating and furnishing my new room. i want want want to go to ikea to get the stuffs, but i'm afraid i have to wait until we can locate or rent a vehicle capable of holding the heavy, h u g e boxes the awersome bookshelves i wnat come in. today we went to target and i got a bunch of hot stuff ... a really keen duvet cover (for the summer, what's left of it. twas on sale) and a retro rug for 13 $. score!

ok, so here's the experience i had at work the other day that i've been meaning to blog about since it happened.

i was at work, doing my little cashier thing, and these two people come up to buy something. quite typical. normally, if people are tourists or can't speak much english it is because they are speaking spanish or russian, most frequently. but, after a few seconds, i realized they were speaking german. i also realized that i could understand about 90% of what they were saying, which was so hard core cool for me. the woman was telling the guy that they only had 60 $ left, and that the jeans were not the same price. i had to help them find some jeans and then when i went back to the registers, i mustered up the courage to ask them if they were visiting from germany. the woman (i don't think the man knew any english at all) said that, yes, they were, and since she seemed pleased and not annoyed with my question, i told her that i had taken german in school and recognized the language. she seemed really happy and said it was so great that i had taken it. then, when i had rung something up, she said danke so i said oh, bitte! (and felt a little foolish, since i always do when i'm speaking something to someone who is fluent in the language i only dapple in.) the man then said somehting to the effect that he was suprised she had thanked me in german, and she told him that i had said i took german in school (this all in german that i actually understood). he said how great it was, i can't remember in english or german, but i guess it could have been german, and then as they were leaving he said tschuss, and so did i.

uhm, i guess it sounds elementary and stupid. i think it's 'cause i'm not explaining it as well as i should. but it was just the coolest thing ever. not that i had been able to mumble two basic words in german, but because i had understood nearly every word they ahd been saying. so then, i was left standing there, no other customers in line to distract me, being reminded how much i completely love german, and languages in general, and wondering why i chickened out of majoring in languages. i ran back to english. dork.

sleep time is now. the move to the new (freaking awesome) townhouse is officially on saturday, but we're trying to get stuff over there so that it's not all on one day. we've had the keys since last saturday i think, but our schedules have kind of conflicted until now. yay.

ginormous side note

2005-09-10T15:38:00.001-04:00

this is a short post, mostly because i have to leave for work in less than an hour. there is good news in andrle-life : we get to move, not into the small two-bedroom apartment, but into a HUGE two-bedroom, 1.5 bath, full basement, happy garage, townhouse. yes, i not only get a room to myself, but a freaking ginormous room that's about the size of our current living room. i kid you not. it may be a foot or so bigger. in the beginning, i was ok to have a smaller place, but this is so thrilling that it worked out this way. having a basement and garage is just super. and there's a formal dining room and all. it's really nice. it's not as new of a building as the one we're in right now, but it's still really not bad. i'm so excited. but that's just me being dorky.

the slightly sad thing is that i've got to work tonight until 10pm, then tomorrow almost all day, including a meeting at 7:45 am. gah! alas, i'm getting quite a few days off in a row later this week, which will rock for the moving purposes.

everyone's going back to prin today, and some people back to their other colleges... i hope everyone has a great quarter. i'm trying not to feel jealous/stupid, but it's not the first time i've not gone to college when everyone else i know is. so. that's it. when i'm feeling sad i'll just try thinking about the awer-some england abroad i'll get to go on (hopefully) by taking the quarter off.

i spoke too soon

2005-08-29T15:29:00.001-04:00

har. old navy called me today at noon (so says the machine) and asked if i could come in to work tonight. it seems they need me to cash handle again tonight! after feeling a bit bummed that i'd only have one day off and that this would be my sixth day of work in a row, i came to my senses and realized that i have been wanting more work. i can't believe i was sad... here i've been complaining all summer that i have no money and that i need to work more. and then they call and say, hey, come work and i think i don't want to. pshah! i'm a strong little monkey (?!?), i can work six days in a row, and then another five after tomorrow's day off. yay money. now if only these were full eight hour days... i'd be rollin' in the dough. heh.

here's a young shot of my lovely poochie (!) and above, a something random shot of the drive up the hill/bluffs to prin.
kisses.

wouldn't you like to be a pepper too?

2005-08-20T00:59:00.003-04:00

somehow, in gathering pictures i was going to put in the last post for some humour, i ran across a site put together by some smart little buggers in ohio state. should have known this when i lived near there, alas. anyway, they've done a really good job of finding a ton of knockoffs of dr pepper. you know, the cheap stuff they're trying to pass off as just as good as dr pepper, and with curious names too.

here's the website for your further exploration: http://www.marion.ohio-state.edu/fac/schul/drp/dr.html

and here's a list of my favourites, based, not on the taste, obviously, but on the funniness of their titles:

Dr. Bob (hah!)
Dr Cheaper (wow, i wonder what they're trying to impress upon shoppers?!)
Doctor (... oh, spelling it out... why didn't we (bywhichimean I) think of that)
Dr. Chill (only because i've had one! old navy provided cheap beverages on our mad-hard/tiring/evil day of 6am-6pm store stocking day.)
Dr. Fine (imagine, as i did, it being said real sleezy like)
Dr Foots (omg, how even is that ok?! this one might be my favourite, just because the use of the word "foots" is amazing on a beverage product)
Doc Holiday (because of it's so-awesome association with western, and picture of the Doc on the can! i'd drink one)
Dr. Perky (maybe my concept of "perky" has been tainted by other people's remarks involving the word. i wouldn't drink anything "perky")
Dr. Red & White (i'm so confused... heh)
Dr. Riffic (wow)
Dr Springtime (aww, but what do you do in the summer?)
Dr. Urge (urge for...?)

ok, that's it... except for, Dr. Slice ... i thought this one was a real one made by Slice and DrPepper people?!? huh... well, it's actually super tasty. i'm surprised it's a knockoff. shows how much i know. and poor mr. pibb made the list, even though it's offered in almost as many places as the original drp.

that's all for me. thank you and goodnight!
Andrle

the art of deflecting compliments

2005-08-20T00:22:00.001-04:00

Here's what's up in andrle-land:

topic #1 . the big switch
this is, by far, the highlight of the blog. i'm switching from regular dr pepper to diet dr pepper! gasp! the reason: not so much for the "diet" benefits, though everyone knows that's not a bad idea, but because i always say i don't really like sugar all that much anyway. so why drink something that's got 8,000 pounds of sugar in it?!? so i've switched (or am going to try) to ingesting a fake kind of sugar that will likely kill me faster than regular sugar. ROCK.

topic #2 . somebody to hold
darren hayes is singing his where you want to be, a beautiful, only released in the uk i think song, on my itunes right now. and that, coupled with the fact that everyone i know is going to be back at school soon, with their friends, and having fun, is so depressing. i know i've said i love spending time with myself and being alone on breaks, and perhaps this is a one time only andrle sadnight, but i'm really feeling bummed. yes, i'm lonely. i'll admit it. alas, i should go read that paragraph about friendship and voids and stuff. grr andrle. but my hope now is that my extra time off will go so quickly (like these nearly three months of break thus far) that soon i'll be complaining about having to go back and take my scary english major required practical criticism course. yikes!

topic #3 . burying myself in books
going off of topic 2, i've decided recently that i should watch less movies (like that will happen) and read more books. because more books = less time to think about my being alone and with no friends. i guess. god. but these are books i've been wanting to read, so... good time for it, no?

night,
Andrle

NO!

nice fluffy suds

2005-08-17T13:43:00.001-04:00

night before last, i had the most incredible dream. i was at a wedding and u2 was the band playing! they were so awesome, and it was wonderful. at one point i think i was the bride (not so odd considering the pattern dreams take on) and then quickly again i wasn't. anyway, when the band (u2!) was packing up, i was, for some excellent reason, over chatting it up with them. lynne was there too for this second, and bono promised to dance with both of us before they left. dance to what, i don't know, seeing how the silence created by their lack of continued performance made me doubt whether there was to be more music, or if the wedding reception were coming to an end. anyway, that wasn't my immediate concern. so, time passes, then they're all getting into their vans and cars (sad!) and getting ready to leave, and so i frantically run over to bono who's sitting in a hot little car. i desperately don't want him to leave, and he doesn't want to either, but has to because of some other commitment. (his wife, maybe?! hah. irrelevant!) anyway, he pulls me through part of the window, kisses me, and starts to sing some unrecognizable song about a beautiful, innocent young woman while staring into my eyes. it occurs to me that perhaps he's writing a song as he sings, and i will be the topic of his next great hit. also interesting to note: i kept flickering from being the bride again, back to my regular self. not fickering as in flashing back and forth, but at random intervals, i was the bride again.

that's all i remember. i think i was cruely awakened before anything else happened. needless to say, i turned on my computer and created a U2 only playlist to listen to all day. ;) then later when i went to the bank and starbucks (oops!) they were playing music, which, oddly enough, i normally would have recognized in an instant, but at first i melded into some obscure u2 songs. then i realized the music was, in the bank : modest mouse! (equally excellent), and at starbucks : coldplay! so, weird how messed up one can be.

i'm really tempted to take advantage of the FREE hi-fi wireless connection at panera bread co., just down the road. but my baby chewbacca doesn't have a lappy case yet and i wouldn't want to harm him on the trip. and also, i don't know how awkward i'd feel going there by myself, clicking away in the world if high speed wireless glory.

: hey rubber ducky, would you like me to scrub your back with my nifty little scrub brush? you would? ok. how's this? hheehe. hey, you want me to scrub behind your ears? oh i see, you don't have any ears, do you? hehe. :
- a gift of random song choice from iTunes, which now hosts my entire (well, the good stuff) musical collection.

anyway, it's quarter to one and i haven't eaten anything yet. off on a quest for food... and panera is still sounding tempting, were it not for the money required to buy something to eat whilst using hot, free wi-fi.

kisses,
Andrle

and nothing else compares

2005-08-14T14:37:00.001-04:00

recent revelations and andrle events...

so, tis sunday once again. this morning i had to wake up all early and crap to work from 8-10am. (yeah, what's with the two hours only?) mummie is working today during the day, so i had to go to church all by my self AGAIN. bah. i wasn't going to go but then i was like, 'eh, i'm already awake', so i went. alas.

have to work this whole week, and the sucky part is that it's for very few hours. with gas prices as they are, it's kind of annoying. but i shall perservere. i am going to be a fitting room specialist, and soon they're going to teach me to be a "cash handler," which means taht i'm special and one of only four people who can count the money at night. it's a job that only older people have, so it makes me feel special. i am unlike all the young punks that work there! solid.

i'm feeling only about 12% sad that i'm not going back to prin next quarter. i'm feeling 79% nervous about getting to go on the abroad to england. but i'm still 99% excited about it, assuming i actually get to go. (consider: all percentages are approximate and likely inaccurate.)

i just realized this post is lacking in substance, but i'm too boring to fix that now. there was something i was going to talk about... now what was it...?

oh good, bring more people into this overcrowded world

2005-08-02T23:14:00.001-04:00

i'm pretending i have time to think. here i am pretending.

well, work is ok. apparently they're going to make me one of their main dressing room specialists or something like that. so, in the land of retail i guess this means i've done something good. i guess. apparently in training i did really well in the dressing room. but i haven't worked in the dressing room since then. so... let's hope i can handle it. also, i was able to talk to the scheduling woman about more hours in the future, and that's looking up a little.

even so, with the lack of full time, i still feel like all i do is work. i work a lot of days, i'm just not there for a full amount of time. sadvillage. anyhow, i'm tired. so there.

what was it i meant to talk about?!? well, it's geen ages since i've bloged, so i thought it was a keen time to do so. i have many pictures i've been meaning to post on the geocities site, but i've (obviously) not gotten around to it yet. but they're exciting. many from the prin years that were never posted. hurrah.

well, hopefully it wont be all that long until we get to move to the new apartment. gah, i just want to get in there so i can unpack my stuffs! i super can't wait until i have my own room again. it will be so neat. i have some awesome bookshelves i can't wait to get from ikea... they will make my room so h-o-t!

i'm out of things to talk about. oh, other than my poochie being so c-ute. and dan calls me darling. haha.

kisses,
Andrle

current sounds : state & main (movie). the two people that end up together are my favourite little couple... i actually love them both.

a pass to some far off moon .or. wicked cricket

2005-07-22T01:31:00.001-04:00

i didn't want to blog because i didn't want to not have the harvey poster picture as my first blog. but then i realized that, eventually, it would be gone. and there would be no point in delaying it anymore. anyone who would see it has seen it. the end. why am i such a loser? i guess i just love how unaffected the character elwood dowd is... and how well jimmy stewart plays it. plus, i'm just a long-time fan of mr. stewart (wow, and patrick stewart also. i sense a theme here...) and how great it is to have a giant rabbit following you around all the time. hot. am i insane? yes maybe. anywho, here's something else i could be insane for: imagining all the booty i'm gonna purchase when we get into our new Old Navy store. mmm mmm good. yeah. today was my first official day working instead of training. ah, the long tiring process of working for a new store. i worked at yet another store (this one makes two) today. i thought it was going to be another half hour away, but actually, it's only another 4 miles! super great. it only takes a little over an hour to get to. bah. i will super love it when i can just go to work at the close new location. anyway, i was worried about working at the registers 'cause i haven't gotten any practice, but i was in the "toddler's" department. oh the joy. here are the things i now know:

i'm a little scared that, again, i seem to be put in baby things. i'll explain later maybe if i deem it necessary.
toddler shirts are just as difficult to fold as regular ones.
hanging items are my favourite. they are so simple to put in size order and i just love them.
old navy plays much cooler music than did kirkland's. hello, i love it.
i really should never be nervous about going to work. it's never a big deal.

that's that. oh, so lately, as one of you "fans" already knows, i've been addicted to frequenting the public library. yes indeed, even after i've gotten internet joyfulness in my home. the library is just so swell to the max. anyway, here's a list of just some of the items i have gotten recently, not because i'm trying to brag or be boring or whatnot, but because these are the so cool items! :

richard russo - the straight man (is this something i already mentioned?!?)
tobias wolff - back in the world
whoever - literary britain : a reader's guide to its writers and landmarks
rick steve's - great britian 2004
somebody - star wars : heir to the empire (yes, this is just my first star wars book. don't sign me up for insanedorkyloserpunkwannabe counciling sessions just yet.
elton john : the greatest hits (yes! some of his stuff is amazingly suh-weet)
the life aquatic with steve zissou soundtrack. (doop doop doop beep doop.)
serendipity soundtrack. uh, yeah. i am a loser. it's so good, mostly due to the fact that it reminds me of the good parts of the movie! :o

and that's it. oh my gosh... so i saw willy wonka yesterday! i just have to say, that yes, my opinion is probably slightly tainted by my fairly recent (read, the last couple years) appreciation for the attractiveness and talentedness that is : johnny depp. but yet, i think that the fact that it was tim burton just helped the film's excellence ... sparkle. ok. anyway, its inherent quirkyness makes it oh-so-appealing to andrle. i loved it, and i recommend that all see it before too long. i really want to see it again, but i think that i can't excuse that kind of behaviour right now. bad andrle, bad andrle. johnny depp is no excuse to spend money you don't have. the end.

anyhow, this entry is indeed mighty long and it's made me stay up way past my bedtime. so now i'm going to pick a picture to put in this blog, finally figure out a title (which, yes, i usually do before i've written anything), and go to sleep. wait, i'm going to take a shower too. is this too much info?

love and kisses, (haha, how gross is it with both!!!)
Andrle A-cat Chewie

p.s. it's interesting with the "A-cat" nickname ... there's really no reason i got it, nor is there any reason i should still use it. it was a temporary thing when i once called tracy t-dawg, to which she replied, a-cat. there's just something so catchy about a-cat and t-dawg, i just can't get over it.
that is all.
thank you and goodnight.

you limerick you

2005-07-13T20:47:00.000-04:00

Jimmy Stewart is indeed the most super actorman ever. i just love him. i got Harvey from the library and it's superb. i've not seen it in ages. i wish he were still alive.

mmm... dr pepper time. gasp, we're nearly out of dr pepper!

so, in two days i must go see my friends from high school. i am super scared. but, hmm, it should be nice, right? i'm excited to see most of them. a few of them i'm a little frightened to see. i'm worried i wont live up to their expectations.

"Years ago my mother used to say to me,
she'd say, 'in this world Elwood, you must be' --
She always called me Elwood.
'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant.'
Well, for years I was smart.
I recommend pleasant.
And you may quote me."
- Jimmy Stewart in Harvey.

Let us all consider that. Just a tidbit for all you readers out there. Yes, i know, thrilling to the max.

doobey doo. well, this is just another blog for you to ignore.

kiss kiss,
Andrle

get out streetwise all you ponies

2005-07-09T19:37:00.001-04:00

i told you it would not be long before i posted in the world. ok, here's what's up in the all familiar andrle-loves-to-use -it-when-she-blogs bullet-form :

i got new shoeses. see left. hurrah. they are pony brand, which i'm unfamiliar with, but i love them. they are also pink. this is very unusual for andrle. there were blue ones too, but they didn't have the awesome brown with them like the pinks did. so here are my new little shoes. i saw them last week when i got another pair, but i didn't have a job then, and couldn't justify buying these... until now! mwahah.
we got a super-spiffy new printer today as well! the sad tale was that i only had one very cheap printer and it was at school. my old/original hp printer died last summer, to my great dismay, leaving me only with the new tacky one.
this new printer gots features. it is, indeed, a printer, scanner, copier! hurrah. and it's mad great. i have already scanned with it's fastness and printed with it's lovliness, and, well, i haven't copied yet. but give me time. the great thing is that it was not super expensive 'cause we got it at Sam's club and for a good deal.
lalala
i start work tomorrow. Y-I-K-E-S. but, it's going to be ok. i only have to go for training and only for four hours. mum and i drove to the store i have to train at today, and so i now know right where it is. my schedule is this: sunday the 10th from 1-5; thursday the 14th from 5p-9p; monday the 18th from 5-9; tuesday the 19th from 8a-12; thursday the 21st from 6p-10p; friday the 22 from 6p-10p; and sunday the 24th from 6:30am-6:30pm!!!
i'm certain knowing my schedule for the next two weeks is vital for everyone. congradulations, now you can come rob me. well, actually, mum will be around for some of those hours, so there's no way to know when would be an ok time to come break into our place of living.
note to everyone: do not break into our place or rob us. i would cry super much. and have to kick some ass.
anyway, the first four times will be training (for only 16 hrs. total :( ) , and the next two are working in the store, to be followed by a mad long day, yes that's 12 hours if needed (this sounds like the musical!) where we help stock the new store will all it's stuff. so, at least that will help boost my hours and money intake. my schedule, sadly, is tentative, so times/days/hours could change. but the good thing, is that i will have a great many more hours when the store opens and i begin to really work.
the "store" i keep speaking of, for any of you who do not know, is Old Navy. yes, i am a dork and am excited. if not for the discount, then for the fact that at least i have gotten a job and they are giving me a pretty good pay (considering it's retail).
there is a fire station located fairly near us behind our house, and when we have the windows / screen doors operating, whenever they go by, it's quite loud. generally, we don't hear much, 'cause i don't htink they start making noise until they've headed out a bit, but just now one went by and blipped and my poochie couldn't figure it out. c-ute that pooch.
andrle doesn't read her books like she should. they've been sitting around, half read, needing to be renewed before it's too late, and wishing they would be finished.
i totally heart my new printer/scanner/copier! i know, redundant. but seriously, it's made me get all picturey and techy again. yayfer it.
i can not wait until we get to move into our better apartment. i will finally again have my own room (i sound like a 5 year old) and i have great plans for it. there are these fabulous shelves/bookcase thingies at IKEA that are so great. they are great with many shelves, and look super with some baskets at the bottom. so i figure, with three of them (because they are reasonably priced, and look well in groups of three, although they are fairly large) i could get all my books out, my old writings, etc. and still have room for fun things to sit out on them too. like some picture albums, or old knicknacks or whatever.
i can't believe i'm only 21 and called stuff knicknacks. i don't even know if it's spelled right, but part of me hopes it's not, just to prove how much i can't believe i labeled my possessions as such.
why do i hate / cringe at that term?
i even scanned some of the bookmarks i made recently. because they're super fun and i will be able to see them still if i give them away.

ok, that's enough for today. i will probably report on the old navy training day one tomorrow, unless i'm too tired or scared or insane.

kisses,
Andrle

“I’m the same as I was when I was six years old, and oh my god I feel so damn old – I don’t really feel anything” – modest mouse

2005-06-28T20:20:00.000-04:00

The best dedication for a book I’ve yet read:

To Doris Sauter:
Who saved my life, my sanity, my soul,
But broke my heart.

- Philip K. Dick, in his book, The Best of Philip K. Dick.

At long last, a proper broccolitarian blog entry. (and it is mighty long too.) But do not be fooled. None of this A. is in any sort of order, B. makes any sense, or C. was written today. well, there is some that is being written today. but mostly this is just andrle typing stuff that she decided to do during the Great Andrle Home Internet Drought of 2005. – not to be confused with that of 2004… and the terrible one of 2003. And there have been others. Sad but true… But, at least there is reason for how long this is. You may have to read in segments. Or completely dedicate yourself to the reading. Or poke yourself every few minutes. Whatever methods you employ, I wish you luck and great reading fun, although the fun will have to be created by you as I am uncertain how much actually lies in these writings.

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I noticed how guilty I’d been feeling about having spent so much time watching movies (and, oops, season 4 of Sex & the City – yay library having scandalous series on dvd! they even had queer as folk episodes– go figure! – but I didn’t get any because I didn’t think it was a good idea for, in the off chance, my mummie to walk in on my watching, what essentially could be considered, gay porn (yikes.) it was awkward enough watching S&TC worrying that she’d walk in at a particularly bad/sex part. interestingly enough, she was going to tell me that they had a few dvds of it and I hadn’t even before expressed an interest in it. tricky. but this is too long of an aside, so back to the sentence this is interrupting. if you don’t have to go back to read what I was talking about before, you are expert-cool.) in the last couple days. But then when I examined my “I’m reading all these books right now” list, I realized how much time it was going to take to get through all the books as well. So why feel so guilty just because reading is an approved intellectual way to spend one’s time, whereas movie watching is considered a waste of time? No guilt here.

Anyhow, this summer (and extendedly long andrle-break through winter) I’ve decided that I’m not going to just make a long list of books and then slowly go through, book by book, and never really get past three or four books (sad number, but true. but hey, orson scott card’s ender series consisted of very long books man!). This time instead, I’m going to read all nine books (well, nine for now) at the same time. No, I haven’t amassed great brainpower, additional eyes, and a very large table. I’m just not going to limit myself to reading just one book at a time. How boring! This way, the chances of actually wanting to read one of the many books aren’t limited to my particular whims aligning with the single book I have chosen to read at that time. Alas, does anyone really care? Probably not. My pitiful book attention span (for a lack of better phrasing) is not something I should be bragging about. hey, give me any other task – I’m a concentrated thinker generally. shut up andrle. Ok, so here’s the current list (to be added to as I find more books I should have read 15 years ago [to my credit, many of these books weren’t around when I was just 6 though]) :
…the Andrle-owned books
1. How to Be Good – Nick Hornby (which I’m actually borrowing from Rebekah)
2. The Wonder Spot – Melissa Bank
3. Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour, an Introduction – J.D. Salinger (! yay! I totally heart Salinger. sorry for using that terrible “heart” thingy as substitute for love, Salinger, but you’re mega cool. ehem. no more talking to dead authors for andrle…)
4. Ender’s Shadow – Orson Scott Card
5. Same Difference & Other Stories – Derek Kirk Kim (given to me by Colleen last A-birthday… shamefully long ago. I’ve just not finished it completely yet.)
…& the Library Books…
6. Best of Philip K. Dick – Philip K. Dick (go figure ;0)
7. K-Pax . a novel – Gene Brewer
8. Bluebeard’s Egg – Margaret Atwood
9. Straight Man – Richard Russo

Naturally, as the little people at the library tend to like their books to come back eventually, I will have to give those books belonging to them some sort of precedence. And, a few of the books I have already started to read … lalala… it isn’t cheating exactly. ;)

To celebrate all my books, I have spent the lovely amount of creative time making bookmarks out of magazine stuff. And when I find my splendid laminating sheets once again, the bookmarks (bookmarkers, have you) will be professional looking (hah!) and beauteous. Hurrah.

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Alas, my time as a carefree chick (as in ‘young chicken’, not ‘attractive young thing person’) has come to a close. Today I got my first application. It’s for a place called Books-A-Million. g-a-g. c-r-i-n-g-e. But it actually had a sign saying they were hiring. I did the thing I’ve been told in the past not to do, and took the application home rather than filling it out right there (I’ve heard it looks less trustworthy and they don’t know if you filled it out or if you had to have someone else do it for you when you take it home and bring it back – whether this is a true problem or not, who knows). But I had not checked with the people for my references yet, so I couldn’t do it at the store. Boo that. Anyway, I messed up when filling it out, so I figure if I decide I want to work there, I’ll go back, hope the same guy isn’t there (good chance if it’s a different time of day), and ask for an application as if never having been given one before. I see no reason why this would be a problem. shut up andrle!

This brings me to an additional Andrle-rant. The references section is the part I hate the most on applications. I was spoiled working at C.S. places, because A. I never actually had to fill out an application at any of them until I was already hired and working there, and it was generally just a technicality – they never called anyone, and B. because you usually were asked to include a practitioner as one of the three references. easy pie. Anyhow, I’ve not always worked at C.S. places, and I always feel super awkward about having to ask people I’ve worked for for a reference. yeah, they’ve always loved me (not my words, theirs), and yeah, they’ve often offered to be references without me asking. But I have to check before I just add them and all anyway. and that’s the super awkward part. it’s like saying, “hi, hello. I used to work for you remember, and yeah, I don’t want to work for you anymore, I want to work for these other people.” Obviously, since usually I no longer live at these places anymore and they know it, it’s not a problem. But for many employers, it’s been quite a while. And alas. Talking to people, the peoples I don’t have a hugely close friend-relationship with due to the fact that they’ve been my bosses or whatnot, is mad tricky for the andrle. Anyway, yeah, I know, grow up kid. Fine. I’m calling the peoples tomorrow, like it or not. bah+ express.

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Chicago-ville is ok. I’ve not gone down into the actual town as of yet though. And Lake Bluff is more north of Shick-Ago than I realized. Sure mapquest told me it was 30 miles. But I figured it was a tiny 30 miles. or something. Either way, it’s flipping considered a part of Chicago, so I’m still going to say I moved to Chicago, or just north of Chicago, depending on who I’m talking to. Far more simple than saying, “I’ve moved to Lake Bluff” then explaining, “it’s northern Illinois, near Chicago.” Ok, it doesn’t matter either. Anyway, I’m a super-dork, and a tad afraid of actually going into the main city place. I’m sure it’s just fine, and if I’m going to have an internship there, I need to be comfortable going there, and should have a general idea of where things are. I don’t know what my prob. is. I’ve been to Chicago before (briefly). And I was all over Boston like it was no big deal. But I think Chicago is much larger. It doesn’t matter. Schwaa… I’m babbling.

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Last night, a woman who is one of the boss lady’s here for my mum had us over to her house for dinner, as well as one of Mum’s co-workers, and her mother. Needless to say, I was the youngest by… well, someone double my age would have been younger than the others. This is not a problem though. I’m super used to being around people Mum’s age and older. In a way, it’s sort of nice not to be around annoying people my age, as most people my age that I don’t know tend to be. At any rate, I was all set to be a little guest person for dinner, when it occurred to me to ask mom if she had any idea what we were eating. From here on, my pitiful life shall be told in dramatic story form… (Be forewarned, this is not a brilliantly put together non-fictional masterpiece. ‘Nough said.)

“I don’t think I know.” Mum replied. For some reason I began to picture lasagna. “No, wait, I do.” She looked at me as if delivering a painful message. The message was painful indeed. “Salmon.”
I gasped. “No!” I cried inside.
“No!” I yelled, despite myself. “Not fish! That’s the one thing I can’t even pretend to eat.” It’s true. Fish, seafood in general, completely and utterly disgusts me. I have tried to eat fish in the past, with terrible outcomes. I tend to gag when attempting to chew or even just skip to the swallowing of the flaky, fishy, sea-smelling nasty so-called food. I vaguely recollect eating some fish sticks occasionally in my younger youth, and not particularly liking them, but due to the breading stuff, managing to swallow them. And for the longest time I’ve been able to eat tuna. But a couple months ago I found that even tuna, the nicest, whitest kind mixed with mayonnaise and sandwiched between two toasted breads and some cheese was too fishy for me.
I continued to express my ultimate dismay, as kindly yet passionately as I could, while my mother attempted to soothe me with the possibility of another dish and the fact that the course was not set in stone, the woman had just mentioned maybe making salmon. I pretended that this might be so, but deep in my heart, and deeper in my stomach, I knew that the forced consumption of this foul, pink fish was inevitable. Inside, and outside – poor mum, I cried in dismay at the great luck of the one food group I didn’t know how well I could shove down my throat without choking and looking miserable being served at this dinner gathering I was supposed to present myself well at.
I wish I could say that when we arrived we found that the main course was tacos, or non-nasty pizza, or steak, or… anything not seafood. But shortly after we entered the woman’s home, were greeted by the other guests, and the host’s friendly, delightfully-not-slobbery-and-very-smooth-coated dog, she announced that she was going to run and check on the salmon. Death. Death would have been a… well, not a very good or reasonable alternative. Nonetheless, I made my smile remain as I pondered my method of successful salmon consumption. To my utmost delight, asparagus was also on the menu. No, not one of the many vegetables I have grown to either appreciate or be able to eat without problem. The one of few I still can’t stand.
While standing in the kitchen while the lovely green weed sticks boiled nearby, the question of how we liked our salmon cooked was raised. How do I like my salmon cooked? For starters, preferably in a different state, or at least a different city or house. No, I had no idea what to say. As a conversation developed as to whether well done was better than rare, I soon assumed I wouldn’t have to answer and became absorbed in the conversation. Then our host turned to me. I wished so much I knew how the heck I wanted my salmon cooked. I wondered which way it would taste less like fish.
“Oh, any way is fine.” I managed to get out.
She smiled in a way that made me wonder if she thought I was silly, due to the younger voice that comes out when I’m around older people I don’t know and am being polite, or if she just thought I was crazy for not having an opinion about my salmon well-doneness.
As we were soon all seated at the table, I discovered that my side-dish savior was unfortunately in the form of potato salad. Naturally, again, something I can’t stand. Why ruin poor little potatoes and eggs by adding nasty pickles or dill and such to them?
Mother, however, was in dinner heaven. As a great lover of both salmon and asparagus, I knew she was most delighted, and maybe would have been completely delighted (had there not been potato salad, and) had she not known about my great detestation of these foods. I resolved to see this meal through her eyes. How could one person love the meal while another completely despised everything there? Raising the grilled filleted monster to my mouth, I tried to do anything but smell or taste the bite. I decided to pretend it was… chicken. Oddly flavored chicken. Who was I fooling? But isn’t fish supposed to be really good for you? I’d think of that. Or I’d think of the nice seasoning and the fact that this was really good for what it was. I’d think of anything but the sea and the fishes swimming away. (As to why I don’t consider myself a hypocrite, despite the fact that I will not –willingly- eat fish, yet love other meats coming from those such as cows and chickens is a whole other topic, and this story & blog is already far too long.)
I bit, I chewed, I quickly swallowed. There was no gagging. There was no vomit. There was difficulty and agony. And surprise at how much fish I’d been given. As for the asparagus, it was now out in the open that I wasn’t a fan. When serving the grass relative, one of the other guests asked if I’d like some as well.
“Just one or two.” I’d replied, hoping my request would go unnoticed as irregular. No hope.
“Not an asparagus fan?” she said as more than two stalks were placed on my plate.
Crap. Well, I’ll just admit to this one. After all, I’d never claimed to like any of this stuff. I was just hoping to do the polite thing and swallow.
“Well,” all eyes were on me now. “It’s not my favorite, but I don’t mind.” Knowing smiles passed the room. Fine, a room full of mothers, or at least women who were familiar with finicky children, had identified me.
Feeling less like a twenty-one year old, and more like the little kid I was in comparison to the others, I listened as my mother told how little I liked vegetables. God, the word, vegetables. Not how little I liked asparagus, or even some vegetables. But the whole category. The whole category of not liking vegetables aged me at around six years old.
“Not all…” was all I could get out in an attempt to redeem myself. But I knew any more correcting Mom’s statement would only worsen my case making me an argumentative teenager or some bratty kid. I didn’t care. Not all was enough.
The meal passed, I tried to eat, and was well on my way, perhaps half way through the enormous salmon portion given me when the asparagus serving woman exclaimed how full she was. Excellent. She hadn’t finished her salmon. After a comparison of her remaining fish with mine, as well as taking into consideration what other foods I had consumed, I concluded that I had eaten enough to claim fullness as well, if asked. I put my fork down, and with it, all the pretending and suffering. A drink of iced tea, hands on my lap, and turning back to the conversation, I concluded that I’d done a job well done. England, nursing, dogs, all floated through the conversation. I was home free. And then, the unexpected.
“You don’t like salmon.” The host’s voice hung in the air. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t accusatory. It was just a fact, one there was no room to deny. And one I wasn’t being asked to deny. My fullness excuse was out. And if I hadn’t been caught on the asparagus, it wouldn’t have been so bad to confess this sin. But here was my whole string of confessions. How to phrase it?
I was mortified that she had caught me, despite my best efforts to eat one of the two giant pieces. I doubted any trace of unhappiness had crossed my face while eating. But as I sit here, I can’t recall what exact words got me out of the situation, other than something about how really good it tasted anyway (and for salmon, it was very good really), was said. And her smile, and those of the others, confirmed it was all right after all.

That’s enough … no more story.

---

Bright red toenails again. Life as a harlot is so tedious.

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How mostly appropriate and applicable to my life is this song: (lyrics roughly what they are… I can’t double check online, nor am I for sure this is what they’re saying, particularly toward the end.)

since the first of june
lost my job, and lost my room
I pretend to try
even if I try alone.
I forgot the part
lose (close?) my hands to lose my heart
even if I died alone.

-Sufjan Stevens . Flint (For the Unemployed and Underpaid)
yes, thank you rob! not one of those songs on that cd isn’t super amazing & great.

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I’d be kidding if I didn’t tell you that this is the longest of all blogs ever. at least on my blog pages. alas, I should shut the up and go.
if you managed to read this all, there are no words for how dedicated and grrrrrrrreat you are. (and let me know, k? ;) )

kiss kiss,
A-cat. (Andrle, dude.)

smell that midwestern + chicago air

2005-06-23T18:42:00.000-04:00

i'm writing this because i can, not because i have the time to or care to type any good interesting information today. i'm sitting here at the library (library visit #2) and was checking all the things i had written down on my handy "things to check/research when next at the library" list. i made it the other day when i came back from library visit #1 and wanted to hit myself because there were so many things i had meant to check, but due to the insane amounts of happiness that flooded me at the mere ability to check simple things such as email and my grades, i wasn't able to think of everything. ok, plus this: the library has a timer thingy. so, i think that i could probably just log on again if no one were waiting to use the compy, but i'm not sure if that would be allowed or not. so, i have to keep things short.

here's the ironic good/bad news for those of you who don't know:

for the first time in ages (maybe it's just ohio and massachusetts that hate us?!?) we got our telephone line the DAY AFTER we called the company. this is miraculous... it normally takes like a week or so. it's frustrating. and if you remember my past problems with getting it to actually connect, you'll remember that sometimes it would take well over two weeks. enough said. this was super speedy express.
because i have cancelled the evil isp known the world over as AOL, and no longer have any software for internet land, we went with the super-cheap and ultra-happy (let's hope) sbc/yahoo company. here's the downside: i have to wait a week (less now, a week from three days ago) for the software disk to come. so, here we sit with our loverly phone line which i could basically care less about (see celly phone of excellence!), and no way to connect to the internet. here i sit at the library... time running out.

That's it. that's my story. so what did i do today with my jobless, pitiful, lazy self? i woke up around 11am and then taught myself/looked up stuff in a book to understand HTML code. yeah, i didn't actually know any of it before, so now i do. the good thing is that i can check what i've done on my ocmpy 'cause i can open the webbrowsers and see my pagey without internet, duh. the bad thing is that there sits my happy first attempt at fancy HTML coding, and there it will sit until i get internet. sigh plus.

Time is tick, tick, ticking, so here i leave.

pre-date fun is not f-u-n.

2005-04-30T17:50:00.000-04:00

hmm. so it's an hour before i'm supposed to leave for my double date, and i'm not overly thrilled. i don't know, it's like, i don't even know him. i said before i wasn't interested in dating for dating's sake, but now, facing it, i still feel the same way. so, the good thing is that i'm not a liar. the bad thing is that i still have hours and hours of torture ahead of me. hmm... yeah. that's what i wanted to say. going on a date i'm not happy about it. boo.

bye.

"just the smell of the sun can make me fall in love"

2005-03-29T23:54:00.000-05:00

this will be extremely short. i just felt like leaving a small post to update for those few who read. spring quarter has begun, and i am taking writers and artists at work (a creative writing course), dramatic literature (for my theatre minor), a writing thingy i decided to take for some credits, and am assistant stage managing the musical. blah. i guess the more i do the musical thingy, the more appealing it seems. yesterday and before, i was like, "yuck, why am i doing this?" but i think once we get going it will be ok. as i discovered while making copies of all 126 pages of the thing, i don't dispise the actual story as much as i had thought. in fact, for what it is, it's not so bad. and the fact that it's not as janky as romeo and juliet with the "oh god, i can't be with the person i met two weeks ago, let me slice/poison/generally kill myself," so that's promising.

anyhow, i am now doing what i do best: avoiding my homework. and i shouldn't do that, really. so, ok. off i go to accomplish things (let's hope).

kisses,
Andrle

p.s. the people that are our house presidents now just put up the new nametags for our house and they misspelled my name. "Anderle." I mean, at least it's spelled like it sounds to an extent, but that's not how it's spelled. so i took white-out and tried to cover the extra "e" but now it just looks super bad. sam said i should tell them and they'd totally make me a new one. but i'm chicken. boo andrle!