Considering the number of followers I have at the moment (7) doesn't seem to match the amount of fan mail and comments I've had from people (37 thousand and one), I decided to add a counter.
The first day did not do so well, as the counter jumped from 0 to 113.
Considering 112 of that was probably me, I realized I might want to change the counter to register only 'unique visitors', or people who haven't been obsessively hitting the refresh button.
Anyway, the counter has now been reset, for anyone who wants to keep track with me via compulsive refreshing.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
About my car...
For those who don't already know, my car exploded last Monday just a few feet off of a freeway.
Starting on that SAME DAY, people have been messaging me about how excited they are to read about what happened to my car in my blog.
But nothing happened to my car. The thinga-ma-gig was old and exploded, and I had to get a new thingy to replace it, and also a battery because I'm a woman and apparently having a womb makes it impossible for me to argue with people about what I do or do not need in my car.
So there will not be a post about my car.
And if there was a post, it would just be a picture of me standing on the side of the road crying on the phone to my father.
Nothing funny happened. My car broke down, I cried, I called a towing company, I'm out 700 fat ones. The end.
Also, I'm still pretty upset over it. Nothing about screaming "I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO, FIX IT FIX IT IF YOU LOVE ME YOU'LL FIX IT RIGHT NOW" to my father on the phone makes me think "Boy, I can't wait to share this moment with the internet".
So, instead, I thought I'd write a post about my day today.
It was also a day of emotional turmoil, but slightly less so.
Cella's Day:
Since my car exploded, I've had to take the bus into work. Which actually doesn't take that much longer than driving - something I'm sure will hurt my cars ego now that she has been brought back from the brink of death.
I once had a friend who described buses as 'magical'. She told me how great it was that people from all walks of life, all going to different places for different reasons had all gathered into one vehicle, for this small period of time, and would probably never be in the same place together like this again.
I describe buses as 'smelly and infested with crazies'.
Thankfully, as a psychologist, I know how to deal with crazies.
My father once told me to never make a threat you weren't willing to follow through with.
I got off the bus without having to mutilate a crackhead, which meant it was going to be a good day.
Also, I was 15 minutes early. Which actually meant I was actually an hour early, since I always arrive 45 minutes before the office opens.
To celebrate, I decided to reward myself.
There's a McDonald's right next to my work, so I thought to myself; 'Self,' i thought, 'You haven't had breakfast at an American McDonald's in four years. You DESERVE a bacon and egg mcmuffin'.
So I swung into the building, fit to burst with excitement.
I love my junk food. Love it.
People think I'm skinny because I eat healthy. I think I'm probably allergic to anything that is not either
1) Deep fried
2) Smothered in chocolate
or
3) Deep fried and smothered in chocolate.
So, as much as I hate to admit it, I <3 McDonald's and their horrible, horrible food.
Also, very few places give you the instant gratification of getting to eat something mere seconds after you order it.
I made it to the counter 45 seconds and 45 other people later
I figured the woman just had a compulsion to repeat what people ordered, but just by listing the ingredients.
Who am I to judge.
3.6 seconds later, I left with my precious, precious meal, and raced up to the office to devour it.
I could barely contain my excitement. It was like Christmas, but you got to eat all the presents.
But when I opened up the wrapper...
It was not a bacon and egg mcmuffin.
Instead, what I got was this
I had managed to order something completely different than I wanted.
It was still like Christmas, but instead of Santa Claus you got a big fat man who came to your house and beat up your pets and then ate all your cookies and stole your wallet.
Somehow, when I was gone, someone horrible had come in and replaced my favorite thing at McDonald's with this... thing.
America had finally lost the war on terror.
There I was, filled with a hunger unsatisfied and an anger that I could only take out on a sandwich
But I was starving. My stomach had been promised food, and IT WOULD NOT BE SILENCED.
With dread, I realized I would have to eat this monstrosity.
I was so excited. Everything about this sandwich represented what was right in the world
It was like being surrounded by kittens and flowers and chocolate, and those little toy poppers where you pull the string and they shoot confetti strings.
You know the ones.
As I ate it, I realized that everything was going to be alright
My car would be fixed, health care would soon be affordable, and peace would rein throughout the world.
The only thing that could make this moment any better would be my coffee.
Starting on that SAME DAY, people have been messaging me about how excited they are to read about what happened to my car in my blog.
But nothing happened to my car. The thinga-ma-gig was old and exploded, and I had to get a new thingy to replace it, and also a battery because I'm a woman and apparently having a womb makes it impossible for me to argue with people about what I do or do not need in my car.
So there will not be a post about my car.
And if there was a post, it would just be a picture of me standing on the side of the road crying on the phone to my father.
Nothing funny happened. My car broke down, I cried, I called a towing company, I'm out 700 fat ones. The end.
Also, I'm still pretty upset over it. Nothing about screaming "I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO, FIX IT FIX IT IF YOU LOVE ME YOU'LL FIX IT RIGHT NOW" to my father on the phone makes me think "Boy, I can't wait to share this moment with the internet".
So, instead, I thought I'd write a post about my day today.
It was also a day of emotional turmoil, but slightly less so.
Cella's Day:
Since my car exploded, I've had to take the bus into work. Which actually doesn't take that much longer than driving - something I'm sure will hurt my cars ego now that she has been brought back from the brink of death.
I once had a friend who described buses as 'magical'. She told me how great it was that people from all walks of life, all going to different places for different reasons had all gathered into one vehicle, for this small period of time, and would probably never be in the same place together like this again.
I describe buses as 'smelly and infested with crazies'.
Thankfully, as a psychologist, I know how to deal with crazies.
My father once told me to never make a threat you weren't willing to follow through with.
I got off the bus without having to mutilate a crackhead, which meant it was going to be a good day.
Also, I was 15 minutes early. Which actually meant I was actually an hour early, since I always arrive 45 minutes before the office opens.
To celebrate, I decided to reward myself.
There's a McDonald's right next to my work, so I thought to myself; 'Self,' i thought, 'You haven't had breakfast at an American McDonald's in four years. You DESERVE a bacon and egg mcmuffin'.
So I swung into the building, fit to burst with excitement.
I love my junk food. Love it.
People think I'm skinny because I eat healthy. I think I'm probably allergic to anything that is not either
1) Deep fried
2) Smothered in chocolate
or
3) Deep fried and smothered in chocolate.
So, as much as I hate to admit it, I <3 McDonald's and their horrible, horrible food.
Also, very few places give you the instant gratification of getting to eat something mere seconds after you order it.
I made it to the counter 45 seconds and 45 other people later
I figured the woman just had a compulsion to repeat what people ordered, but just by listing the ingredients.
Who am I to judge.
3.6 seconds later, I left with my precious, precious meal, and raced up to the office to devour it.
I could barely contain my excitement. It was like Christmas, but you got to eat all the presents.
But when I opened up the wrapper...
It was not a bacon and egg mcmuffin.
Instead, what I got was this
I had managed to order something completely different than I wanted.
It was still like Christmas, but instead of Santa Claus you got a big fat man who came to your house and beat up your pets and then ate all your cookies and stole your wallet.
Somehow, when I was gone, someone horrible had come in and replaced my favorite thing at McDonald's with this... thing.
America had finally lost the war on terror.
There I was, filled with a hunger unsatisfied and an anger that I could only take out on a sandwich
But I was starving. My stomach had been promised food, and IT WOULD NOT BE SILENCED.
With dread, I realized I would have to eat this monstrosity.
I was so excited. Everything about this sandwich represented what was right in the world
It was like being surrounded by kittens and flowers and chocolate, and those little toy poppers where you pull the string and they shoot confetti strings.
You know the ones.
As I ate it, I realized that everything was going to be alright
My car would be fixed, health care would soon be affordable, and peace would rein throughout the world.
The only thing that could make this moment any better would be my coffee.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Vocabulary Lesson
To better prepare myself for my inevitable failing of the GRE (Graduate Record Examination, for my Australian friends) I checked out a vocabulary book from my library.
But this book sucked. All it had was the word, the part of speech, and a brief, non-memorable sentence.
It didn't even have drawings.
'I can do better', I thought.
So I present to you, for educational purposes, my own list of GRE words, and memorable drawings and/or sentences to go along with them.
Craven: (kray-vuhn; adj) lacking courage; cowardly.
Ravens are rarely craven.
Numismatics: (nu miz maa tiks; noun) coin collecting
Growing up, my brother was a total geek because he participated in numismatics.
Potentate: (poh tehn tayt; noun) a monarch or a ruler with great power.
Diatribe: (die uh trieb; noun) an abusive, condemnatory speech
After listening to his bosses diatribe, Fred presented him with a well thought out rebuttal.
Palliate: (paa lee ayt; verb) to make less serious; ease
The presence of Bonkers the clown did little to palliate the mood at the funeral.
Occlude: (uh klood; verb) to stop; to prevent the passage of
Limpid: (lihm pihd; adj) clear; transparent.
This water is limpid.
Officious: (uh fihsh uhs; adj) too helpful; meddlesome.
One should never let too many cats in a kitchen, as they are notoriously officious.
Soporific: (sahp uhr ihf ihk; adj) causing sleep or lethargy.
I find reading Freud soporific.
Propriety: (pruh prie uhtee; noun) the quality of behaving in a proper manner; obey rules, customs and manners.
Bears have difficulty with propriety.
Aberrant: (uh ber unt; adj) Deviating from what is normal or expected.
Largess: (laar jehs; noun) Generous giving (as of money) to others who seem inferior.
Inculcate: (ihn kuhl kayt; verb) To teach, to impress upon the mind.
Frenetic: (fruh neht ihk; adj) frantic, frenzied.
If a giant apple attacked Seattle, our behavior would most likely be frenetic.
Sedition: (sih dih shuhn; noun) behavior that promotes rebellion or civil disorder against the state.
It would be considered sedition if I drew the above cartoon in an effort to inspire giant apples to attack major cities.
But this book sucked. All it had was the word, the part of speech, and a brief, non-memorable sentence.
It didn't even have drawings.
'I can do better', I thought.
So I present to you, for educational purposes, my own list of GRE words, and memorable drawings and/or sentences to go along with them.
Craven: (kray-vuhn; adj) lacking courage; cowardly.
Ravens are rarely craven.
Numismatics: (nu miz maa tiks; noun) coin collecting
Growing up, my brother was a total geek because he participated in numismatics.
Potentate: (poh tehn tayt; noun) a monarch or a ruler with great power.
Diatribe: (die uh trieb; noun) an abusive, condemnatory speech
After listening to his bosses diatribe, Fred presented him with a well thought out rebuttal.
Palliate: (paa lee ayt; verb) to make less serious; ease
The presence of Bonkers the clown did little to palliate the mood at the funeral.
Occlude: (uh klood; verb) to stop; to prevent the passage of
Limpid: (lihm pihd; adj) clear; transparent.
This water is limpid.
Officious: (uh fihsh uhs; adj) too helpful; meddlesome.
One should never let too many cats in a kitchen, as they are notoriously officious.
Soporific: (sahp uhr ihf ihk; adj) causing sleep or lethargy.
I find reading Freud soporific.
Propriety: (pruh prie uhtee; noun) the quality of behaving in a proper manner; obey rules, customs and manners.
Bears have difficulty with propriety.
Aberrant: (uh ber unt; adj) Deviating from what is normal or expected.
Largess: (laar jehs; noun) Generous giving (as of money) to others who seem inferior.
Inculcate: (ihn kuhl kayt; verb) To teach, to impress upon the mind.
Frenetic: (fruh neht ihk; adj) frantic, frenzied.
If a giant apple attacked Seattle, our behavior would most likely be frenetic.
Sedition: (sih dih shuhn; noun) behavior that promotes rebellion or civil disorder against the state.
It would be considered sedition if I drew the above cartoon in an effort to inspire giant apples to attack major cities.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Bugs are Taking over our Schools
My mother recently decided to take a teaching job near her house in Hawaii. Monday was her first day preparing her new classroom, and she was less than enthusiastic with what she found there;
"It's full of bugs" she told me "There are cockroaches everywhere, and I just don't know what to do..."
This is a problem in any tropical climate; if you leave Seattle, be prepared to trade our cold and rainy days for the warm embrace of horrific bugs you wished never crawled on this planet.
But, thankfully for my mother, her daughter is a genius.
It didn't take long for me to compile a list of solutions (and their possible problems) to her cockroach woes.
So, here you are mom. You're welcome.
Solution One:
Spray the fuck out the classroom.
Problem:
The problem with this approach is pretty obvious. Namely, what is 'bug poison' is also 'children poison' (though they normally don't use that as a draw in their advertisements)
Also, children will put anything in their mouths. Toys, fingers, flamethrowers, you name it. So if it's covered in poison, chances are someones gonna die and someone else is gonna get sued.
(There is an upside to the 'kids will stick anything in their mouths' problem; see Solution Three!)
Solution Two:
Giant bug-repellent space suits (for kids!)
Problem:
First of all, expense. Space suits are expensive, even when just designed to keep out bugs. Do you have any idea how many bake sales you'd have to organize to raise that kind of cash? And no one wants to buy cookies that are covered in cockroaches.
Also, forcing children into airless suits for hours at a times is probably against some sort of law, or something. I don't know, I'm a genius not a lawyer.
Solution Three:
Tell the children the bugs are just moving candy, and watch them eat the problem away!
Problem:
Definitely illegal. And gross.
Solution Four:
Allow the cockroaches to attend class, and train them to become productive members of society.
Problem:
What problem? This idea is amazing.
How else are these cockroaches supposed to achieve their many-legged hopes and dreams? What about the little cockroach who wants to grow up to be Dr. Cockroach? Or the cockroach who wants to grow up to write the next great insect novel?
"It's full of bugs" she told me "There are cockroaches everywhere, and I just don't know what to do..."
This is a problem in any tropical climate; if you leave Seattle, be prepared to trade our cold and rainy days for the warm embrace of horrific bugs you wished never crawled on this planet.
But, thankfully for my mother, her daughter is a genius.
It didn't take long for me to compile a list of solutions (and their possible problems) to her cockroach woes.
So, here you are mom. You're welcome.
Solution One:
Spray the fuck out the classroom.
Problem:
The problem with this approach is pretty obvious. Namely, what is 'bug poison' is also 'children poison' (though they normally don't use that as a draw in their advertisements)
Also, children will put anything in their mouths. Toys, fingers, flamethrowers, you name it. So if it's covered in poison, chances are someones gonna die and someone else is gonna get sued.
(There is an upside to the 'kids will stick anything in their mouths' problem; see Solution Three!)
Solution Two:
Giant bug-repellent space suits (for kids!)
Problem:
First of all, expense. Space suits are expensive, even when just designed to keep out bugs. Do you have any idea how many bake sales you'd have to organize to raise that kind of cash? And no one wants to buy cookies that are covered in cockroaches.
Also, forcing children into airless suits for hours at a times is probably against some sort of law, or something. I don't know, I'm a genius not a lawyer.
Solution Three:
Tell the children the bugs are just moving candy, and watch them eat the problem away!
Problem:
Definitely illegal. And gross.
Solution Four:
Allow the cockroaches to attend class, and train them to become productive members of society.
Problem:
What problem? This idea is amazing.
How else are these cockroaches supposed to achieve their many-legged hopes and dreams? What about the little cockroach who wants to grow up to be Dr. Cockroach? Or the cockroach who wants to grow up to write the next great insect novel?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
A Day in the Life
A Day in Cella's Life... In Pictures.
7:00am - Brought into incoherent semi-consciousness by my screeching phone.
7:05 - COFFEE
7:06 to 7:45 - INTERNET TIME!
7:50 - After gathering my things, I leave for work with a smile on my face... only to remember I'm still in my pjs.
7:55 - A rushed change into 'real people' clothes ensues.
8:00am - Now running late, I rush out the door like a weasel with its tail on fire.
8:01 - I like to imagine my car is always happy to see me in the morning. She looks forward to our morning drive.
8:05am
8:15am
8:20am
8:35am
8:45am - Finally at work, I spend most of the morning answering the phone.
10:10 - And putting away files.
11:10 - And answering the phone
11:40 - And putting away more files.
12:00 - LUNCH TIME!
12:40pm - Returning from lunch, I immediately jump back on the phone
1:30pm - Sometimes I have to alphabetize things.
This is more realistic if you realize that in my head, I'm always screaming "A GOES BEFORE B - RAWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
2:30pm - More files to be put away
3:40pm - More phone calls
4:10pm - The overwhelming number of files slowly takes over the office as I fight for control.
4:45pm - TIME TO LEAVE!
5:00pm
5:10pm
5:25pm
5:40pm
5:50pm - With mere moments to spare, I park at Bell Square and duck into the bathroom to change. I always feel like Superman.
6:01pm - I race into Victoria's Secret, dodging shoppers, trying to clock in before I'm officially late. A quick glance at the schedule tells me I'll be processing for the next four hours. It is imperative to psych oneself up for this.
6:02pm - Box times are always discouraging.
6:03pm - BUT YOU MUST POWER THROUGH! The next few hours are a blur of energy, panties are everywhere, and it's a fight between (wo)man and box. THE BOX MUST NOT WIN!
6:40pm
7:30pm
8:01pm
8:10pm - After the first box, enthusiasm wanes. Suddenly the box is winning. The endless supply of panties overwhelms the senses. There is simply not enough time, and your morning coffee has long faded.
The next few hours feel like running through Jello.
9:40pm
10:00pm - Eventually a manager takes pity on me.
10:10pm - For the safety of society, I probably shouldn't drive home at this point. I do anyway. 'People have quick reflexes' I tell myself, as I swing in and out of a semi-conscious, exhaustion fueled delirium.
10:20pm - Insanity takes over.
'Where the hell am I? Why are so many people running and screaming? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MONKEYS ARE TRYING TO STEAL MY TAXES'
10:35pm - Somehow, through my divine powers of unconscious driving, I arrive home safe and sound. My first stop is my laptop. But I never make it very long before collapsing.
10:36pm
7:00am - Brought into incoherent semi-consciousness by my screeching phone.
7:05 - COFFEE
7:06 to 7:45 - INTERNET TIME!
7:50 - After gathering my things, I leave for work with a smile on my face... only to remember I'm still in my pjs.
7:55 - A rushed change into 'real people' clothes ensues.
8:00am - Now running late, I rush out the door like a weasel with its tail on fire.
8:01 - I like to imagine my car is always happy to see me in the morning. She looks forward to our morning drive.
8:05am
8:15am
8:20am
8:35am
8:45am - Finally at work, I spend most of the morning answering the phone.
10:10 - And putting away files.
11:10 - And answering the phone
11:40 - And putting away more files.
12:00 - LUNCH TIME!
12:40pm - Returning from lunch, I immediately jump back on the phone
1:30pm - Sometimes I have to alphabetize things.
This is more realistic if you realize that in my head, I'm always screaming "A GOES BEFORE B - RAWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
2:30pm - More files to be put away
3:40pm - More phone calls
4:10pm - The overwhelming number of files slowly takes over the office as I fight for control.
4:45pm - TIME TO LEAVE!
5:00pm
5:10pm
5:25pm
5:40pm
5:50pm - With mere moments to spare, I park at Bell Square and duck into the bathroom to change. I always feel like Superman.
6:01pm - I race into Victoria's Secret, dodging shoppers, trying to clock in before I'm officially late. A quick glance at the schedule tells me I'll be processing for the next four hours. It is imperative to psych oneself up for this.
6:02pm - Box times are always discouraging.
6:03pm - BUT YOU MUST POWER THROUGH! The next few hours are a blur of energy, panties are everywhere, and it's a fight between (wo)man and box. THE BOX MUST NOT WIN!
6:40pm
7:30pm
8:01pm
8:10pm - After the first box, enthusiasm wanes. Suddenly the box is winning. The endless supply of panties overwhelms the senses. There is simply not enough time, and your morning coffee has long faded.
The next few hours feel like running through Jello.
9:40pm
10:00pm - Eventually a manager takes pity on me.
10:10pm - For the safety of society, I probably shouldn't drive home at this point. I do anyway. 'People have quick reflexes' I tell myself, as I swing in and out of a semi-conscious, exhaustion fueled delirium.
10:20pm - Insanity takes over.
'Where the hell am I? Why are so many people running and screaming? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MONKEYS ARE TRYING TO STEAL MY TAXES'
10:35pm - Somehow, through my divine powers of unconscious driving, I arrive home safe and sound. My first stop is my laptop. But I never make it very long before collapsing.
10:36pm
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