The Pursuit of Kinvaras
Dear Calgary:
Dafuq are your Kinvaras? I’ve checked three different Sport Chek stores and a few other outdoorsy stores and there isn’t a single Kinvara to be found.
What gives?
Sincerely,
I HAVE HOLES IN MY SHOES AND I AM IN SERIOUS NEED OF REPLACEMENTS
The Consequences of Walking 15 Miles per Day
So yesterday I surpassed 1,000 miles walked for the year. I’m too lazy to check, but I’m pretty sure it took me until sometime in May to reach that same distance last year.
So in celebration (?), here are all the things I’ve noticed that are consequences of walking 15 miles per day*.
- It’s only March whatever and I already have to get a new pair of shoes.
- My cardiovascular fitness is better than it ever has been. My resting heart rate is in the high 40 BPMs. It used to be as high as the 70s.
- I CAN RUN LIKE THE WIND!
- I can’t actually run like the wind. But a 10k is like no problem at all anymore.
- INGROWN TOENAILS, ANYONE??? At least none of them have fallen off. TMI, I know.
- It doesn’t show up well in a picture, but I can assure you that my heels have the texture of pumice stone.
- Walking 15 miles takes me anywhere from 3.5 to 4 hours. That’s a decent chunk of time, but I try to justify it by telling myself that if I wasn’t out walking, I’d probably spend that time sitting around and being useless. At least this way I get exercise/miles.
- My speed has also gotten a lot faster. Last year it was a lot of work to break 4 mph. Now I’m pretty consistently at a speed of 4.5 mph or faster.
- Here’s a non-consequence (a nonsequence?): I still am crap at telling distances. The only way I can even remotely guess how far I’ve walked (if I’m not constantly looking at my pedometer) is by keeping track of how long I’ve been walking, as my speeds are usually pretty consistent. But if I stop to get groceries and/or charge my iPod, all hope is lost for mileage monitoring.
- There’s probably more to this list, but I can’t think of anything else right now.
So yeah. Party time.
*Okay, so I don’t walk this distance every day. From Saturday to Thursday, I walk at least 15 miles per day. On Fridays I barely get off my lazy butt. So I guess it averages to a little under 13 miles per day technically, but it really is 15 per day on the 6 out of 7 days per week that I actually walk. So there.
1,000 Miles!
Woot, I hit 1,000 miles during my walk this afternoon. I actually walked up to Westbrook Mall in order to buy a new pair of walking shoes (1,000 miles is “replace the shoes” time whether I want to or not), but of course they had zero Kinvaras.
Oh well. Guess I’ll get them tomorrow.
STATS!
Mileage: 1,006.09
Time spent walking: 222 hours, 36 minutes, 9 seconds (that’s like 9.25 days, haha)
Average speed: 4.61 MPH
Graph!
ONWARDS!
I don’t care about this blog anymore
I don’t care about anything anymore, really.
2017: The Year where Nothing is Actually Terrible but My Brain is Convincing Me Everything is Terrible because My Brain is Terrible.
Blah.
Tumbl
So apparently I’ve been on Tumblr for five years now.
Yikes.
Can’t complain, though…that’s how I found Achievement Hunter!
So in celebration, have some of my liked/reblogged Tumblr posts.
I’ve posted this before, but it’s Gavin being awful at Uno
This is still hilarious I don’t even care
Gemstone nail art! (I might have posted this, too…)
The shape of South America on different map projections
51klfjalsdkfj
Did you ever see something so ugly that you just wanted to punch it?
That’s me every time I look in the mirror!
YO DAWG I HERD U LIKE GARBAGE BLOG POSTS
R U READY 4 MORE “CLAUDIA CAN’T THINK OF A GOOD BLOG SO YOU GET GARBAGE THAT SHE WROTE IN THE PAST”?
2 HOT 2 HANDLE
Anyway.
So back in 2006, during my first semester of college when I was sure I knew everything and had the whole world figured out (you know, like all 18-year-olds do), I took an intro theatre class in which we had to get into groups and perform a 10 – 20 minute play. All the other groups chose parts of famous plays or a published skit that had been written to be performed in that amount of time.
Not my group.
No, my group had to suffer through me wanting to write my own play for us to perform. Because that how I rolled back then.
So I wrote this piece of garbage called “Marionette” that, at the time, I thought was absolutely brilliant.
I was an idiot back then.
But anyway, in part to torture you readers and in part to torture myself by reminding myself of just how obnoxiously pretentious I was back then, I present to you: Marionette!
ACT I
Scene 1
Scene: a darkened theatre. As the lights are brought up, this scene is observed: the walls are a rich, deep red—much like thick velvet curtains. A bar with four barstools but no bartender is set up on the left side of the stage. A small coat rack is next to the bar. A partition separates this from a row of four seats is set up on the front right of the stage. In the extreme left barstool sits RICHARD, a man in his early 30s with dark hair and a healthy complexion. To his immediate right sits HELEN, is wife of three years. She is 28 and has a shy, quiet aura about her. Both are dressed in relatively expensive clothing, an indication of their wealth. Both have a glass of whiskey in front of them. Two other glasses remain full and correspond to each of the two empty seats beside them.
After a few moments, a small commotion is heard, and HAROLD and MARY enter the stage from the right. HAROLD is a younger man, 27, who, like Helen, appears quite shy. His wife of six months, MARY, is 25, and a very pretty woman. The couple’s dress is less fancy than that of Richard and Helen. As they enter the scene, Richard and Helen notice them and motion for them to come over.
Throughout this scene, the “arguments” between Harold and Mary are lighthearted, with no real meaning to them. They argue in the way an old couple still deeply in love would argue.
RICHARD: Well, hello! Nice of you to show up!
MARY: (with regret) Are we too late? What a shame…that darn car…
HELEN: Did something happen?
HAROLD: (taking off his jacket, helping MARY with hers, hanging them up) We had a little car trouble on the way over. Car broke down and no one could get it fixed. Hello Richard. Helen.
RICHARD & HELEN: Hi.
MARY: I told you you should’ve taken it in when it started making those noises a month ago, Harold. You’re such a penny-pincher.
HELEN: We ordered drinks for you, anyway. Come sit. (they move over to the seats. MARY indicates for the couple to move over. They do; MARY sits to the right of HELEN. HAROLD is forced to sit the furthest away from MARY, on the left of RICHARD)
RICHARD: Here. (slides one drink to both MARY and HAROLD. HAROLD takes a sip, but, MARY, seeing this, takes the glass away from him)
MARY: Harold doesn’t deserve any.
HAROLD: (lightly, without any real meaning) Come on now, Mary.
MARY: He’s had enough to drink already. (slides his drink across the table to herself) It’s a good thing we weren’t in an accident (drinks) Though I would’ve probably preferred one to all the trouble we had tonight.
HAROLD: It wasn’t that bad.
MARY: Yes, it was. That car…
HELEN: What kind of car is it?
MARY: An awful car. Cheap car. The kind a farmer owns, or something. Not something people like us should ever have to own.
HAROLD: It’s worked all this time, hasn’t it?
MARY: Being stranded out on the road waving to strangers for help is not how I wanted to spend my evening.
HAROLD: Oh, you enjoyed it. I notice you didn’t complain when that blonde fellow offered us a ride to the theatre. I saw the way your blouse “fell open”. (to RICHARD, laughing) The little fox. I have to keep my eye on her at all times.
MARY: (to HELEN) He’s drunk. Had some whiskey before we left. (to RICHARD) You wouldn’t mind giving us a ride home tonight, would you? I suppose, if worst comes to worst, we can leave Harold behind here at the bar, seeing as how he’s the cause of this whole mess.
HAROLD: Mary…
MARY: (to HELEN and RICHARD) If he weren’t so thrifty we’d have a nice car. And nicer clothes. I apologize for this shawl; Harold bought it for me.
HAROLD: If I had the money to buy you a nicer shawl, I would, but I don’t.
MARY: You have the money, but instead of a new shawl for me you’re choosing to have the car fixed.
HAROLD: The car’s a necessity—cashmere’s not. Besides, weren’t you the one complaining about the car in the first place?
MARY: It’s an awful car. You should learn how to spend your earnings better.
When you earn the money, you can make the decisions, but until then…
RICHARD: Six months into marriage and they’re already fighting about money. (laughs) Sounds like a good start.
MARY: Oh, we’re not fighting.
HAROLD: No. Nothing to fight about.
MARY: Why, just yesterday, Harold got a $300 paycheck from his piano playing, didn’t you, Harold?
HAROLD: Indeed I did.
MARY: And that’s in addition to the $450 he got for just signing on with the company. (laughs) I’m sure that’s even more than you’re making, Richard!
RICHARD: Well—
HAROLD: Oh Mary, don’t say that; it’s rude.
MARY: It’s just an observation, Harold, don’t start getting worried.
HAROLD: Still…it’s not polite to say those kinds of things.
MARY: Richard doesn’t care. (to RICHARD) Do you?
RICHARD: Not at all.
MARY: See? And I’m sure Helen doesn’t mind. (looks at HELEN, who shakes her head) See?
HAROLD: Well, it’s the principle of things, Mary. You shouldn’t say things like that.
MARY: Oh, you’re useless. (turns away from the men and towards HELEN. RICHARD and HAROLD make idle chatter between each other as the two women talk)
HELEN: Can’t you get the car fixed?
MARY: Hmm? Oh, we could—except Harold’s such a miser he won’t let us use any of the money saved up. None of it.
HELEN: Have you got a lot?
MARY: Oh, we have plenty. Over $700. He just won’t let me touch it. Just yesterday we were walking down 5th street—you know, where all the shops are?—and I pointed out this lovely necklace in a jewelry shop window display. A beautiful necklace—and you know what he said? (laughs). He said he’ll have to wait until we get enough money saved up. Can you believe that? With over $700 in the bank? The old miser. (drinks. The focus shifts to the men; the women make conversation between themselves as HAROLD and RICHARD talk)
RICHARD: So how’s the new job going so far?
HAROLD: Real good, real good. I’m working for this theatre company downtown. They were looking for a person to play the piano accompaniment to a show. It worked out great, I got a $200 starting pay, which’ll help pay for the car repair. Though don’t believe Mary about the actual amount of money I’ve earned. She tends to exaggerate when it comes to our financial status.
RICHARD: Mary does that, too? (laughs) Helen likes to tell people that I’m the next Rockefeller. (drinks) Really, though, you’re lucky with Mary. She’s a sweetheart.
MARY: I keep hearing my name. What’re you two talking about?
RICHARD: Money. Harold tells me he’s earning quite a bit from the new job.
MARY: (to HAROLD) See? You have no excuse for not getting me that necklace.
HAROLD: Now Mary…
RICHARD: Necklace?
MARY: (to RICHARD) I bet you would buy it for me, wouldn’t you Richard?
RICHARD: How much is it?
MARY: Oh, it doesn’t matter.
HAROLD: Don’t listen to her, Rich.
MARY: I’m sure you could afford it. Even better, I’m sure you’d buy it for me.
RICHARD: Maybe I would. (smiles at her, then looks at HAROLD and indicates that he was just humoring her)
HAROLD: Now you’re stuck. She’ll hold you to that promise.
MARY: I wouldn’t have to if someone would get me the things I want. Perhaps it’s Richard who loves me, not you.
HAROLD: Now Mary…(the two smile at each other, but HAROLD’s smile is not truly genuine…there is some pain behind it)
(pause)
RICHARD: (looks at his watch, trying to break the obvious tension caused by MARY’S last remark) Well, I suppose it’s time we were going.
HELEN: Yes, I suppose so. (the men move to the coat rack and remove the coats)
MARY: (as she is given her coat by HAROLD) I suppose we should pay you for the ride.
RICHARD: (putting on his coat) Not necessary. You’re our friends.
MARY: Oh, well. I’m sure Harold would be too thrifty to pay you anyway. (HAROLD smiles shyly at this; he and MARY come together and link arms as they, RICHARD, and HELEN exit slowly)
Scene 2
Scene: Harold and Mary’s home. The wallpaper is a drab yellowish-white, the floor accented with several small throw rugs. Off the left of the stage is the door to the house. A medium-sized table sits in the center of the left side of the stage with a single chair next to it. A small window is seen above the table. To the right of the stage, a small end table with an empty glass on top of it sits. A decorative cloth is thrown over the end table, blocking the audience’s view of the whiskey bottle hidden underneath it.
As the lights come up, HAROLD and MARY enter from the left door. They have just returned from the marionette show.
MARY: What a lovely evening, wasn’t it, Harold?
HAROLD: (distantly, removing his coat and setting it on the table) Yes, it was.
MARY: They’re so fun to be with, Helen and Richard.
HAROLD: Mm.
MARY: We should buy them something—a present for being so kind to us.
HAROLD: (with the same distance in his voice) Yes. (looking about the room) Where’d I put the whiskey?
MARY: (ignoring his question) It’s too bad we missed the play. Like I said, though, it’s your own fault for being so miserly. (laughs) You’ve always been that way, though. So protective of your money. (moves toward the radio and turns it on. A popular jazz song is heard playing) Dance with me, Harold. (MARY moves to him and he automatically moves to dance with her. MARY hums along with the music. HAROLD remains distant) You know what? This is the first time we’ve danced since last year at that ball. Remember that? (no response. The music switches to a piano tune) Here’s a piano song. (listens for a moment) I bet you could play it better.
HAROLD: (emotionlessly) Bet I could.
MARY: What’s wrong? Why are you so down? (Draws him closer) You should be happy; you’re making all that money with the new job.
HAROLD: I play piano, Mary. Not a lot of money in that.
MARY: Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll work your way to the top. (they are silent for a moment)
HAROLD: Why’d you have to tell them about the necklace, Mary—make me look bad?
MARY: What necklace?
The necklace you wanted me to buy for you. Why’d you tell them about that?
MARY: (remembering) Oh, that. It was just a little story, dear. To lighten the mood, you know? They didn’t take it to heart.
HAROLD: And then you went and asked Richard if he would buy it—it’s obvious he could and he would.
MARY: (laughs at this, pulling HAROLD closer to her) Who cares if he would buy it or not?
HAROLD: (quietly, still obviously upset but trying not to show it) It just makes me sound bad, is all. Makes it sound like you’d rather be with Richard.
MARY: (laughs) You know what your problem is? You’re too insecure. (smiles, trying to lighten the mood) And drunk.
HAROLD: I’m not drunk anymore. It’s worn off. But a drink sounds good right about now.
MARY: You don’t need a drink. (She and HAROLD move apart. HAROLD begins to search around for the whiskey bottle as the song ends. A new song comes on the radio. As the song plays, MARY moves to the chair in the middle of the stage and begins taking off her outer clothes) Remember that time when we went to the coast for Christmas—it was right after we were married, remember?—and I saw those pair of earrings in that shop near the restaurant and you wouldn’t let me have them?
HAROLD: (still searching for the whiskey) Yes, I remember.
MARY: (laughs) I kept begging and begging you to buy them for me, but you were so determined not to let me have them.
HAROLD: (stops searching, reminisces with MARY) It was near the end of the trip. I only had sixty dollars left and those earrings cost fifty-two. I kept telling you if I bought them we wouldn’t be able to get home, but you wanted them so badly I ended up selling my pocket watch so I could afford both the earrings and the tickets home. (smiles, then laughs) You guilted me into it.
MARY: I was crying.
HAROLD: And that man came up to us on the street and grabbed you in his arms—nearly knocked me down—thought I was hurting you. (laughs. MARY laughs, too. HAROLD pauses) That man—I remember you said he smelled good—good and strong. You’ve always had a thing for blondes. (smile slowly fades)
MARY: (not noticing this) It was a lovely evening.
HAROLD: (dully) Yes, it was. (pauses, continues searching for the bottle) Where’s that damn whiskey? (MARY, by this point, is wearing only her dress, her coat, stockings, and shawl is rested on the table next to her. She is holding a small object in her fingers and is looking at it with interest. HAROLD looks about for a moment longer and finds the whiskey bottle under the end table. He brings it out from underneath the table with an “aha!”, then brings it to his lips, about to drink. Before he can, he notices the object MARY is holding. He lowers the bottle before drinking) What’s that?
MARY: (looks up, surprised. Closes her fist around the object as if to conceal it from him) Hmm? I don’t know, I—
HAROLD: Let me see it. (moves to her, opens her hand, and picks up the object. Examines it) This is Richard’s diamond tie pin!
MARY: (innocently) Is it?
HAROLD: Yes, it is! What—how did you get this?
MARY: (looking down) It—must have fallen into my pocket.
HAROLD: That’s impossible.
MARY: No, it’s not.
HAROLD: Even if the tack were broken it would be unlikely. Is the tack broken?
MARY: …No.
HAROLD: Then you must’ve taken it!
MARY: Why would I take it when we have all that money—?
HAROLD: Oh, give it up, Mary. We’re not with Richard and Helen, you don’t have to keep saying things you know aren’t true. There’s no one here to impress. (pauses, begins pacing) All that money. What money?
MARY: Are you saying—?
HAROLD: You know we don’t have any money, Mary. You know that.
MARY: Not even the $300?
HAROLD: No, that’s gone, it’s—gone.
MARY: Where?
HAROLD: It’s just—(harshly) Things for the house, Mary. Things we need. That’s what I spent it on; money’s to spend, not to save to show off.
MARY: Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that we needed the money for things like that. I thought it was extra. (a little defensively) It’s not like I know much about money, anyway, Harold. You said so yourself. (HAROLD doesn’t answer, his eyes are downcast. MARY looks down at her hands. This brings HAROLD’s attention back to the tie pin)
HAROLD: Well, if you didn’t take it, and since it obviously didn’t just fall into your pocket, that means he must’ve given it to you.
MARY: What?
HAROLD: The tie pin!
MARY: Harold…
HAROLD: Why would Richard give you his diamond tie pin?
MARY: He didn’t give it to me—
HAROLD: The only reason would be—(stops, realizes what the reason would be.) Are you and Richard…(he pauses, frowns, and looks at MARY. She understands what he is implying and is shocked)
MARY: No! Never! Why would I be with anyone else but you? (no response. MARY gets up, moves to HAROLD, who has turned partially away from her. She puts her hands on his shoulders) I would never be with anyone else, Harold. Never.
HAROLD: (after a pause) The tie pin?
MARY: I swear it fell into my pocket.
HAROLD: (turns to her) Don’t lie to me.
MARY: I swear!
(long pause. HAROLD stares hard at MARY)
HAROLD: Fine then. (breaks his stare, takes a short drink from the bottle, then makes a face) Did you buy this? It’s awful.
MARY: No, I didn’t.
HAROLD: Tastes dry.
MARY: It’s probably old. You shouldn’t be drinking, anyway. Tonight’s the fifth time this month you’ve gotten drunk.
(another long pause. HAROLD drinks again)
HAROLD: The blonde man. On the road. Why did you signal him over, Mary? We didn’t need him; I could’ve hailed a cab or something.
MARY: The car was broken. We needed to get to the theatre. He was the first one who stopped.
HAROLD: Did he remind you of that guy on the coast? Is that why you signaled him?
MARY: Who?
HAROLD: The blonde man on the coast. The one who took you in his arms. I remember you didn’t turn away.
MARY: I wasn’t even thinking of him.
HAROLD: We were just talking about him.
MARY: But I wasn’t thinking of him when that man stopped to help us tonight. Why are you so suspicious about this? You were fine about it when we were at the theatre.
HAROLD: I think you know why. I can act in front of an audience just as well as you can.
MARY: It’s not an act—
HAROLD: Yes it is. You were flirting with him nonstop until we got to the theatre.
MARY: I don’t see what you’re getting so defensive about. All I was doing was being nice to him. (pause) I think you should stop drinking.
HAROLD: Did he also give you his pin?
MARY: I told you, Richard’s pin must have fallen into my pocket—
HAROLD: Don’t lie! (pushes her violently. She falls backward into the end table, knocking it and the things on top of it off. She remains lying on the floor, her face shielded from HAROLD. She begins to cry, holding herself with her arms)
MARY: Harold…(pauses, gets no response) Have…have you no shame? (looking at his back. Harold glances at her; a sense of reality overtakes him as to what he’s just done. He goes to her, picks her off the ground, and draws her to his chest. He stands holding her, muttering)
HAROLD: Oh god. Mary. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. (MARY continues crying, but doesn’t pull away) I just—god. I want you to be mine, Mary, only mine. I want all this other stuff to end. (pauses, looks down at MARY while still holding her) I’ll stop drinking, Mary, if that’s what you want. I’ll stop. I’ll stop drinking if you say you’re mine, okay? Okay, Mary? Say you’re mine. (he holds her by the arms, looking into her eyes. She is still teary-eyed, but she looks at him. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t smile. HAROLD continues to hold her, muttering her name. Finally, she looks up at him and sees in his eyes genuine remorse. She smiles, and nods)
MARY: I’m yours.
HAROLD: (pulls her to him again, rocks her slightly) Good. Good. Just me and you, Mary. Just me and you.
(Lights fade to black)
ACT II
Scene 1
Scene: the same theatre. A marionette show is taking place. The action of the show is in the general direction of the audience. All characters, while watching the show, look out into the audience. RICHARD, HELEN, and MARY are returning from the bar to their seats as the lights of the scene are brought up. HAROLD remains in his seat, obviously irritated and touchy. He has not had a drink in over a week. Richard, Helen, and Mary each carry their drinks to their seats.
HELEN: That intermission wasn’t nearly long enough. Barely enough time to get a drink. (sees HAROLD sitting rather stiffly) Would you like one, Harold?
MARY: Oh, no, Harold’s not allowed. He’s given up drinking.
RICHARD: Is that so? Well, congratulations!
MARY: Don’t congratulate him yet, Richard. He’s only been at it for a week now.
HAROLD: (bitterly) I don’t see why you can drink while I can’t.
MARY: (cheerfully, noting that RICHARD and HELEN may hear) That wasn’t part of the agreement, dear.
(HAROLD is about to angrily retort, but RICHARD speaks first)
RICHARD: Don’t be too tough on him. Mary. It’s tough to stop something you’ve done for a long time. I should know. I was a gambler for years.
MARY: Really?
RICHARD: Yes. Ask Helen.
HELEN: He was. Took him months to tone it down.
MARY: When was this?
RICHARD: Oh, a year or so ago. When I met you.
HAROLD: (awakening from his anger, staring at RICHARD) First met her?
RICHARD: Yes. I’ve known her for about a year now. Before you two were married. She’s the one who introduced us to these plays.
HAROLD: Is that so.
RICHARD: Yes. It was a good alternative to gambling. (laughs, looks at MARY, remembering)
MARY: You had an addiction… (laughs, puts her arm around RICHARD) And here I thought you were perfect!
HAROLD: Yeah, well, he’s not, Mary. None of us are. (all three of his companions look at him strangely. MARY removes her arm from RICHARD. Then, before she has a chance to say anything, music sounds in the background)
HELEN: (points into the audience) Look, it’s starting! (lights dim)
MARY: (aside, to HAROLD. HELEN and RICHARD hear none of this conversation; their interjections are simply about the play. When speaking to each other, both HAROLD and MARY use harsh, angered whispering) Will you calm down? You’re acting like a child!
HAROLD: Is that all you do? Flirt all the time?
MARY: I don’t flirt. I was just being nice.
HAROLD: (quietly) I feel awful. I wish I had a drink.
MARY: Well, you can’t have one. It’s our bargain.
HAROLD: I see you’re holding up your end nicely. (mocking her) “And here I thought you were perfect!”
MARY: I was just being nice. Can’t we just watch the play?
HAROLD: Nice. If you’re just being “nice” to him, why is it you didn’t tell me that you knew him before we got married?
MARY: I didn’t think it mattered.
HAROLD: You lied.
MARY: I didn’t lie—I just never said anything about him. (pause) And while we’re on the subject of truth—
HELEN: Mary…
MARY: (breaks her concentration on HAROLD, looks at HELEN. The anger is completely gone from her voice) Yes?
HELEN: Which puppet is that man from Chicago controlling? You know, the famous puppeteer?
MARY: I’m not sure. Probably the jester. Watch his legs—they said he does a lot of movements with the legs. (pauses, makes sure HELEN isn’t watching, then turns back to HAROLD) I might add that you weren’t completely truthful about the $300 we had.
HAROLD: You never asked about it.
MARY: You never asked about Richard.
HAROLD: They’re completely different things!
MARY: No, they’re not.
HAROLD: Yes, they are, Mary—money and fidelity are two very different things.
MARY: (raising her voice) Don’t you—(realizes they’re still in the theatre, quiets down again) Don’t you ever question my loyalty to you, Harold. At least when we’re in public. Besides, you’re blowing this all out of proportion. After all, I knew him before we were married. It’s not like I went with him while we were married.
HAROLD: So you’re admitting you went with him?
MARY: No! Stop being so suspicious!
HAROLD: It’s only suspicion when you’re not already sure it’s happening.
MARY: (surprised by his answer, but trying to blow it off) Honestly, you’re like a jealous little boy. Now be quiet and watch the play. (MARY looks away from him, and turns to RICHARD. Almost instantly her face changes from anger to contentment) Which one’s the puppeteer from Chicago? We can’t figure it out.
RICHARD: I think it’s that blue one with the checkered pants. The one over there. See the way his legs are moving? (points)
MARY: (looks) Oh…oh yes, I see him. (watches) I believe you’re right, Richard. That must be the puppeteer from Chicago. (smiles at him) You certainly have an eye for the little details.
HAROLD: See there? You’ve just proven my point. You wouldn’t stop flirting with Richard if I gave you $1,000.
MARY: Well, we’ll never be able to test that theory, now will we, seeing as though we don’t even have $300!
HAROLD: Maybe if you didn’t beg me to buy you every single bauble you see, we’d have more money.
MARY: Why are you blaming this on me?
HAROLD: Why don’t you get Richard to buy you things? You and him seem pretty close. Are you going with him now?
MARY: I’ve had just about enough of this, Harold.
HAROLD: Well? Are you going with him?
MARY: I’m not speaking to you anymore. This is pointless.
HAROLD: Answer me, Mary.
HELEN: Oh, look!
HAROLD: Why don’t you answer me?
MARY: (trying to ignore HAROLD) What is it?
RICHARD: How awful!
HAROLD: (growing anger) Answer me!
HELEN: The string to that puppet’s arm—
HAROLD: Come on, Mary! Answer!
MARY: (to HAROLD) Be quiet! (to HELEN) What happened?
HAROLD: Answer me!
RICHARD: The string’s broke! His arm’s just dangling there!
MARY: Which one?
HAROLD: Mary.
HELEN: The jester! Oh, that’s awful!
RICHARD: He’s completely useless! He can’t do a thing!
MARY: (looking at HAROLD) Kind of reminds me of someone.
HAROLD: (looks at her angrily, then almost hatefully) Okay, that does it. (stands up, grabs MARY forcefully by the arm, and drags her to her feet)
MARY: Harold, what—
HAROLD: Get up. (they struggle a bit; MARY doesn’t want to leave)
RICHARD: (noticing the commotion) Where’re you going?
HAROLD: We’re leaving. Mary doesn’t feel well.
HELEN: Doesn’t she? Oh, what a shame! (to MARY) What’s wrong?
HAROLD: She’s sick. I’m afraid we can’t stay for the rest of the play.
HELEN: I’m sorry. I hope you feel better, Mary.
HAROLD: (looking at MARY) I hope she does, too. (he drags her out. MARY’s shawl is still draped across the back of her seat. RICHARD and HELEN look after them)
(Lights fade to black)
Scene 2
Scene: Harold and Mary’s house. HAROLD walks in from the left door quickly, dragging MARY by the arm and slamming the door behind him. They go to the center of the room, where HAROLD roughly releases MARY.
HAROLD: Well, what a wonderful way to end an evening.
MARY: Me? You’re the one who caused the scene, dragging me out like that.
HAROLD: It’s better than you prattling on about how awful a husband I am.
MARY: I have good reason to, after the way you treated me tonight. What’s gotten into you?
HAROLD: (hint of sarcasm; thinking MARY should know why he’s upset) I gave up the drinks, remember?
MARY: That’s no excuse to drag me around. Think of how they see us now. They’re our only friends in town, and think of how they see us now. A pair of Neanderthals. It’ll be a miracle if they ask us to go to the play again.
HAROLD: Pour me a drink.
MARY: No. Why must you drink all the time, especially in front of company? It makes you look desperate. Richard doesn’t drink.
HAROLD: Richard’s perfect. I’m not.
MARY: Richard’s not perfect.
HAROLD: You said he was. You said so yourself. Why don’t you go have an affair with him?
MARY: You’re ridiculous. You’re just cranky because you haven’t had anything to drink.
HAROLD: I don’t have anything clouding my mind. And I’m not being ridiculous. I can see that you’re already having an affair with him.
MARY: (highly offended) I am not! Where did you hear that? It’s not true! Richard’s in no way better than you!
HAROLD: You were thinking that, though. Of course, you’ve thought that about all the other men you’ve been with. (pauses, looks up) How many men have you been with, Mary?
MARY: (shocked at his behavior) You’ve lost your mind!
HAROLD: I know of seven. Are they’re more? (counts off on his fingers) There was George, the clerk. He was the handsome one. You always said he had a nicer face than me. And Clyde, the romantic. Always buying you flowers. More flowers than I ever bought you, you said.
MARY: (looks away) Stop it!
HAROLD: And then there were those three in a row, those rich ones. Who were they? Frank, Ray…can’t remember the third one. They all had more money than me, didn’t they?
MARY: (feebly, quieter) Stop.
HAROLD: And then there was—(cut short by a knocking on the door. MARY looks out the window)
MARY: It’s Helen. For god’s sake, be quiet! (lets HELEN in. The two walk into the room. HELEN is carrying MARY’s shawl)
HELEN: You left in such a hurry you forgot this.
MARY: Oh, thank you.
HELEN: Are you feeling any better?
HAROLD: She’s feeling fine. She’s dandy.
HELEN: (looks at HAROLD strangely, then back at MARY. She doesn’t notice the contemptuous look MARY shoots at HAROLD. Smiles) That’s wonderful. Richard and I were quite worried.
HAROLD: Richard!…that’s right. We mustn’t forget about Richard, Mary. That puts the list at eight, doesn’t it?
MARY: Harold, be quiet!
HELEN: What list? (HAROLD raises his eyebrows and smiles)
MARY: No list. Thank you for bringing my shawl, Helen, I appreciate it.
HELEN: Not a problem. I do hope you’re feeling better.
MARY: I am. (smiles at her tensely, wishes for her to leave) Well, thank you again.
HELEN: Goodbye, Harold.
HAROLD: Goodbye. (pauses, then looks up) Helen! How long have you and Richard been married?
MARY: (quietly but harshly) Harold, shh!
HELEN: Pardon?
HAROLD: You and Richard. How long have you been married?
HELEN: Married? Well…going on…three years now, I think.
HAROLD: Three years! Three years, you hear that Mary? You went with him what, a year or so ago?
MARY: Harold—
HELEN: Richard?
MARY: (to HAROLD) I’ve had just about enough of you and your lies.
HAROLD: My lies!
MARY: You’re a liar!
HAROLD: (laughs) Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black!
MARY: If you say one more word—
HELEN: (quietly) Richard? (MARY looks at her) You—you went with Richard?
MARY: (quickly) A different Richard.
(HAROLD laughs)
HELEN: (hesitatingly, piecing things together) You knew Richard before you and Harold married…we were married, though, Richard and I. (pauses, looks at her) You…?
HAROLD: Don’t put anything past her, Helen.
MARY: Harold!
HELEN: I know you’re a flirt, Mary. (laughs nervously) My god, you’d flirt with any man—and you do, but…I know you wouldn’t do that…would you? (looks at MARY. MARY looks at her, then looks down)
MARY: (hesitates) Helen…
HELEN: (disappointed and angry) Here’s your shawl. (hands shawl to Mary, who hesitatingly takes it) Goodbye. (walks off)
MARY: Helen—(door slams. To HAROLD) You see what you’ve done? You’ve done the very thing you’ve tried to avoid! Social disgrace!
HAROLD: I only told the truth.
MARY: It’s not the truth, and you know it! My god! Don’t you care about me? Now I don’t have a single friend in this town.
HAROLD: You don’t need friends when you’ve got men.
MARY: Stop it. Just stop it. Now…I’m sure you can call Helen and get this all straightened out—
HAROLD: No. I’m not your puppet, Mary. You can’t pull my strings and make me do whatever you want me to do.
MARY: I’m not—
HAROLD: Yes, you are. You’re always doing this—you’re always making me look like the bad guy while you get off scot-free, looking like an angel. I’ve got news for you, Mary—you’re not an angel!
MARY: (glares at him for a moment, then looks away) I don’t know why I stay with you.
HAROLD: I was beginning to wonder that myself.
MARY: (shocked) Harold!
HAROLD: (standing) Come on, you must know what a big flirt you are. A big, fake flirt. Always making me seem like the lesser man whenever we’re with others.
MARY: Please.
HAROLD: (mockingly) “If Harold were as rich as so-and-so, he’d be a better husband. If Harold didn’t drink like so-and-so, he’d be a better man.” I’m always in second place with you. I can’t win.
MARY: You’re being ridiculous.
HAROLD: Am I?
MARY: Harold, it’s not a competition—
HAROLD: It is a competition! God! Everywhere we go I feel like I’m put in this position where I have to prove myself to you! Every damn place we go! You make me look like this horrible man for not buying you a necklace we clearly can’t afford, you make me put on this charade whenever we’re out with your rich friends, but I’m never good enough for you, I…I work to keep with you, Mary, and, and…(pause, continues, with growing strength and anger) Every time, you sit there with that smug look on your face like you own me. Like you own me and the rest of the men of the world. We’re like dogs to you, and you love to pit us against each other so’s you can get a high out of betting on which one’s gonna come out alive with the prize. (pauses, looks away from her, and then back at her again, continuing) You know where that $300 really went? Huh? I spent it all on booze. You want to know why? Because I can’t stand your childish games of pretending we’re something we’re not. This last week of being sober made me realize…I can’t stand sitting there sober while you tell all your friends that we’re richer and better off than they are when the exact opposite is the truth! You’re a fake, Mary, and you keep dragging me into your little charades, making me look like the charming man that’ll do anything to please his wife. We’re the perfect couple until we’re alone, then you can stand me just about as much as I can stand you! It’s like we’re living two separate lives! It’s not so bad when I’m drunk, but when I’m sober I’m—I’m sick of it! I can’t stand you when I’m sober, Mary! I just can’t goddamn stand you! (long pause. He turns away from her, but remains in the same spot. MARY, in a state of shock, goes up behind him and gently puts her hand on his shoulder)
MARY: …Harold…my god…is that what you think of me?
HAROLD: (turns around to look at her, while simultaneously backing away so that she’s no longer touching him. There is resolve mixed with fear in his eyes) I love you, Mary, but…I can’t stay with you. I—I can’t do this anymore. It’s killing me. (moves as if to go, then stops and turns around. MARY, for a moment, thinks he’s going to her, but instead, he moves to the end table, pulls out a bottle of liquor, and then turns again to go. MARY grabs him by the arm.)
MARY: Harold, stop! You can’t do this to me! You can’t just leave—(door slams) Harold, come back! Please! (collapses into chair pathetically, holding her hand out towards the door through which HAROLD exited.) (feebly) Come back. (pauses, listens) What’s that? Tires screeching? (gets up, looks out the window. Pauses, then turns away from the window) He’s gone. (moves to the chair, sits) He’s gone.
(Lights fade to black)
Scene 3
(MARY enters, alone. RICHARD and HELEN stand, look sympathetically at MARY for a moment, then go to her. There appears to be no hard feelings or anger from HELEN as she and RICHARD embrace MARY and comfort her)
HELEN: Mary, dear…we heard about Harold. We’re so sorry.
RICHARD: Terrible blow. We feel awful.
MARY: (reserved) Thank you both. I can’t tell you how much this means to me…when I heard that he was in a car accident after he left the house, I can’t tell you what I was feeling. (smiles feebly) You know what he was doing, don’t you? He was going to get me that necklace. You know the one I’d asked about? He was going to the jewelry store to buy it for me. What I don’t understand is why he was speeding so—the jewelry store doesn’t close until late. (more somber) That’s what flipped the car, his speed. It’s stupid, really. A silly old necklace costing him the use of his arm. (looks as if to cry) Just after he got that job as a pianist. (teary-eyed, pulls out handkerchief)
HELEN: But at least he’s alive.
MARY: (distantly, but with a slight smile while wiping her eyes) Yes. At least that. (they stand silently for a moment)
HELEN: (taking her hand and leading her toward the seats) Here dear, sit. (MARY sits, RICHARD sits beside her) I’ll go get you some water. (sighs) It’s a shame…the play won’t be the same without Harold. (exits. MARY and RICHARD remain. RICHARD puts his arm around MARY quietly. MARY looks at him and smiles)
MARY: No. No…it won’t.
(Lights fade to black)
SHOOT ME IN THE FACE
Albrrrta
Why
THE SHIT
Is it so cold again?
We’re 11 days away from spring and it’s -17 out there.
Canada, I am disappoint.
Boston Dynamics, u ok?
WHY
WHY DO THEY KEEP MAKING
INCREASINGLY
MORE
TERRIFYING
ROBOTS
?
Like, I get the whole robot thing. New technology is great! But good lord, put a cheerful sunbonnet on it or something so that it doesn’t look like it’s about ready to murder a family.
Hahaha, 0:19: angry figure skater is angry.
1:10: “I stuck the landing…HAHAHA SCREW YOU, PARENTS, I’M OUTTA HERE”
FIRE
Dooders. Here is a really cool animated infographic discussing how fire impacts different California plant and tree species.
Edit: MOAR
I’ve seen the California Redwoods. Next goal: Giant Sequoias.
balls b-b-balls b-balls b-balls balls
I feel like a box of farts. Have a survey that I didn’t take seriously at all.
A – AGE: Over NINE THOUSAAAAAAAAND
B – BIGGEST FEAR: Fear
C – CURRENT TIME: 12:40 AM
D – DRINK YOU LAST HAD: Water. I live on the edge. H2Whoa.
E – EVERY DAY STARTS WITH: Not wanting to wake up. And a very clingy, purry kitty.
F – FAVORITE SONG: It’s really hard to pick. So I’ll use this as an opportunity to plug the first five-star of 2017: Infectious by Tobu. So good.
G – GHOSTS, ARE THEY REAL: I am one. OH SHIT NO WAIT YOU DIDN’T HEAR THAT FROM ME I WAS JUST KIDDING HAHAHAHA I GOT YOU DIDN’T I
H – HOMETOWN: The ‘Scow.
I – IN LOVE WITH: My wonderful husband.
J – JEALOUS OF: A lot of people, unfortunately.
K – KILLED SOMEONE: Hahaha. Nope.
L – LAST TIME YOU CRIED: Earlier today while I was walking. Because a rock got in my shoe. That’s how emotionally stable I am right now.
M – MIDDLE NAME: Cap’n Butts
N – NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: I have a brother in law now, which is just wild.
O – ONE WISH: INFINITE WISHES no not really. I’m in a super morbid mood right now, so let’s say I’d wish to see how/when I die. I wouldn’t be able to change it, just see it. I think that would probably change my life quite a bit.
P – PERSON YOU LAST CALLED/TEXTED: My mom
Q– QUESTION YOU’RE ALWAYS ASKED: “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” Stop asking. I don’t know.
R – REASON TO SMILE: I’ve had the “Dayman” song from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia stuck in my head all day.
S – SONG LAST SANG: I sang along with Ashlee Simpson’s Pieces of Me a few days ago, because I love that song.
T – TIME YOU WOKE UP: Like 11, haha.
U – UNDERWEAR COLOR: BLACK LIKE MY SOUL (they’re actually white. Like my soul.)
V – VACATION DESTINATION: HANOVER!
W – WORST HABIT: Can rage be a habit?
X – X-RAYS YOU’VE HAD: Apart from teeth x-rays, I had one on my lower leg thanks to high school PE. We were playing a game called “wombat” and someone threw the (padded) bat so that it ended up hitting me in the tibia. There was no fracture or anything, but that part of my leg still hurts every once and awhile.
Y – YOUR FAVORITE FOOD: Either broccoli or peanut M&Ms.
Z – ZODIAC SIGN: Aquarius
MuzzMuzzMuzzic
So Nate and I were discussing music this evening (specifically, we were trying to remember well-known classical songs and realizing that we suck at remembering well-known classical songs), so I’m in a music mood now. Here are some of my favorite lyric-free (classical and otherwise) songs!
[Edit: I added a few songs to this list as late as June, so don’t have a flip-out if you see songs on here that technically shouldn’t be on here given the date of this blog. As if anyone case enough to notice.]
- Hoedown – Aaron Copland
- Valdres March – Johannes Hanssen
- First Suite in E Flat: Chaconne – Holst
- Jupiter – Holst
- Variations on a Korean Folk Song – John Barnes Chance
- Bayou Breakdown – Brant Karrick
- The Launch – James Horner
- Sunshine – John Murphy
- Shenzou – Steven Price
- The Magnificent Seven Theme – Elmer Bernstein
- Dare You To Move – Vitamin String Quartet
- Cast Away – End Credits – Alan Silvestri
- Planet Earth II Suite – Hans Zimmer (1000% feels; this freaking song, man)
Sometimes you take a survey. Other times the survey takes you. (I took a survey.)
Have I done this one before? Maybe. Am I gonna do it again? Yes.
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?
I do indeed. I love my mom and dad. They’re both weird and wonderful in their own ways.
02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?
Nate!
03: Do you regret anything?
90% of the stuff I’ve done, yes.
04: Are you insecure?
I have every reason to be insecure.
05: What is your relationship status?
Married!
06: How do you want to die?
AWESOMELY
07: What did you last eat?
Uhhhhhhhh…a pita?
08: Played any sports?
Not much of a sports person. I am 0% athletic.
09: Do you bite your nails?
Yes.
10: When was your last physical fight?
I’m pretty sure I’ve never had a physical fight with someone.
11: Do you like someone?
No, I LOVE someone.
12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?
Surprisingly no. At least, I don’t think I have.
13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?
I am supremely annoyed with one or two people, but I don’t hate them.
14: Do you miss someone?
I miss my mom and dad. And Annabelle.
15: Have any pets?
Jazzy!
16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?
UGH.
17: Ever made out in the bathroom?
I’ve made out in some weird places (drag show dance floors, the Fish Bowl at the UI library, on the orgy couch), but never in a bathroom.
18: Are you scared of spiders?
Nah. Spiders are cool.
19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
Like, how far back are we talking? Can we be talking, say, I don’t know…somewhere in the range of 1646 to 1716? Maybe?
(Please?)
21: What are your plans for this weekend?
Same as always. Walk. Run (maybe). Go to school to get lecture stuff ready. Try not to jump into oncoming traffic.
22: Do you want to have kids? How many?
No. Zero kids. Kids are terrifying.
23: Do you have piercings? How many?
Four. Two regular earlobe piercings, an extra earlobe piercing, and an industrial.
24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?
I was good at math until junior high. I was always good at writing/English and art and music.
25: Do you miss anyone from your past?
Every once and awhile I really miss my old high school group of friends.
26: What are you craving right now?
Nothing.
27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?
I don’t think so.
28: Have you ever been cheated on?
Yes.
29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?
Yes?
30: What’s irritating you right now?
Myself. And everything else.
31: Does somebody love you?
I sure hope so!
32: What is your favourite color?
Orange!
33: Do you have trust issues?
Bah.
34: Who/what was your last dream about?
Man, I don’t remember. It was probably a Met, though, because I seem to have an abnormal amount of Mets-related dreams. It’s probably because I read the Mets subreddit right before I go to bed.
35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?
Nate. That poor man gets the brunt of my over-emotional-ness.
36: Do you give out second chances too easily?
Probably.
38: Is this year the best year of your life?
God no.
39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?
19, haha. Late bloomer.
40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?
Probably.
51: Favourite food?
Broccoli!
52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
In a way, yes.
53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?
Cried.
54: Is cheating ever okay?
No.
55: Are you mean?
I’m meaner than I’d like to be.
56: How many people have you fist fought?
Five hundred.
57: Do you believe in true love?
Yup. Because it happened to me!
58: Favourite weather?
In general? Sunny and moderately warm. For walking? Overcast and moderately warm.
59: Do you like the snow?
It’s pretty and makes things feel like Christmas, but it’s balls to walk in.
60: Do you wanna get married?
I am married! AND I’D DO IT AGAIN!
61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?
Meh. I could take it or leave it.
62: What makes you happy?
Nothing, lately.
63: Would you change your name?
We’ve been over this. Claudia Marie Bitchin’ McGee.
64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?
Ha, nope. He’s sitting like seven feet away.
65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?
Fuck, not this again.
66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?
Does Nate count?
67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?
Nate.
68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?
See above!
69: Do you believe in soulmates?
See above again!
70: Is there anyone you would die for?
AND AGAIN!
(And Leibniz, but he’s already dead, so…)
“Gluten for Punishment” would be a great name for a bread store
It’s the end of February and I’ve walked a total of 825 miles this year.
Last year, it took me until April 11th to walk 825 miles.
So that’s pretty cool.
My toes are in shambles, though, and I could probably sand a deck with my rough heels, but THE PRICES WE PAY, RIGHT?
(If I could get to 5,000 miles this year, that would be awesome.)
The Nose Knows? No.
Heeeeeeeeeeeey, it’s Anosmia Awareness Day! Go hug a non-smeller and watch this video I posted awhile back because it’s fantastic.
(And get me this shirt, haha.)
SCREW THIS BLOG, SCREW EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS BLOG, I’MMA GO EAT TWENTY BOXES OF CEREAL BECAUSE BLOGGING SUCKS
Hi.
It has come to my attention that it’s been like four years since I last updated my “100 Things” tab.
So I need to update it.
And I’m going to blog about updating it for today’s post, ‘cause if I have to maintain this dumpster fire of a blog, you have to read about it.
GO!
- I’m an INTJ (very strong on the I, T, and J; fairly weak on the N).
Still true.
- I’m a hard determinist.
Also true.
- I have a large collection of ostentatious socks.
I don’t wear them as much anymore because 99% of the time I’m wearing socks, I’m out walking, so they’re my dingy walking socks. But I still have the collection.
- My hair is naturally black and is apparently impervious to bleaching attempts.
The sun has given it a good bleach over the past few years. The hair covered by my hat is still super black, but the “long” part is a little brown now.
- I try to give at least one compliment a day—if not verbally, than at least in my mind.
True.
- I love to list, sort, alphabetize, categorize, and organize. In my past life I was a Rolodex.
Sometimes I get Rolodex flashbacks and wake up from a fugue during which I’ve consumed a packet of index cards in a futile attempt to restore what I once was.
- I have anosmia. Don’t worry, it’s not catching.
Pretty sure this one’s never going to change.
- I do much better upholding my long-term goals than my short-term ones.
Same with this one.
- I don’t drink pop/soda/whatever you want to call it. Never have, never will.
And again.
- My first word was “tick-tock.”
I was anal about time even when I was a baby. Fitting.
- I have very small handwriting.
I think Nate’s is smaller, but mine is still pretty small.
- I like airports, both being in them and living near them. I’m one of those weirdos who likes the sound of planes coming and going.
True.
- I can fold my entire outer ear into my ear canal.
I should specify that I can do this with the ear that does not contain the industrial piercing. The barbell makes this difficult.
- I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue.
Yup.
- To me, the Galton board(quincunx, bean machine) demonstrates one of the most beautiful phenomena ever.
So beautiful.
- I have a very good aural memory.
I still think this is true, but to a certain degree. I think it’s aural specifically with an inclination towards being able to remember music/melodies. Any time I watch a movie I haven’t seen since childhood, I remember the melody/cadence/musicality of character’s words more than the words themselves. Hell, I remember when I was a kid that I often had a hard time understanding the distinct words characters were saying in movies/on TV, but I could commit the “song” of their words to memory in a second.
- I get super obsessed with things once I decide I like them.
Always true.
- I did four years of undergraduate work in 2 ½ years and got my first college degree when I was 20. I don’t recommend this approach for those of you who are strongly attached to your sanity.
I’d do it again. I’D DO IT AGAIN!
- I like serif better than sans serif fonts.
Yes. Except for my class notes, where I use Arial because I think it looks really clean.
- My favorite word is syzygy.
Yup.
- I like numbers that are divisible by five and/or ten. I’ve had that preference for as long as I can remember.
It’s really hard for me to “start” anything (e.g., using a new pair of shoes, changing a workout routine, using a new palette of foundation) unless it’s on one of those “nice” divisible days of the month.
- My favorite number is 100.
I dunno. I think 11 is the winner now.
- I think the need for the interrobang warrants its restoration in common written English.
Meh. Meh?! MEH‽
- Physically, I’m a lot stronger than I look.
My legs are. My upper body’s not.
- I’m not much of a movie person, but I enjoy disaster movies (the less scientifically accurate, the better) and movies about space. My favorite movie is Sunshine (way underrated, go watch it!)
Disaster movies are the best. Space disaster movies are even better. Space disaster movies that ignore 99% of physics and logic are amazing. The best (worst?) disaster movie, though, is Atomic Train. Find it. Enjoy it.
Edit: HOLY HELL IT’S ON YOUTUBE
- I love walking as a form of exercise, but only if I have some way to keep track of my steps/mileage.
Very true.
- I recite a letter of the alphabet per every twist of an apple stem to find the first initial of the person I’m destined to marry, ‘cause I’m just that mature.
Hahaha, I haven’t done this in forever. Partially because I’m married now. The apple stems LIE, I never got to the “N” and yet I married a Nate.
- I used to sing the Frosted Flakes “Hey Tony!” song incessantly. There are hours of video of this phenomenon.
Yup. My poor mom.
- I admittedly like the sound of auto-tune.
I do indeed.
- I identify strongly with the belief of hylozoism (but not completely).
The universe is life. Life is the universe.
- My favorite artists are Salvador Dali and M. C. Escher.
Still true.
- I don’t wear jeans. I don’t see how denim could ever be comfortable.
I’m now more forgiving with what types of pants I’ll wear than I used to be. Hell I have an actual factual pair of denim jeans in my closet.
- I think European men’s fashionfrom the late 18th century is astoundingly gorgeous.
*swoons*
- My sole talent in this life is being able to re-write song lyrics on the fly. I think it’s because my mom played a lot of Weird Al when I was growing up.
I still do this a lot.
- I’m surprisingly old fashioned about a number of things, some of which I am none too proud of and thus don’t discuss.
…Yeah, I’d say this is still true to an extent.
- I very much love the United States of America, flaws and all. I think it’s an amazing country with a fascinating history. Living outside of it has made me appreciate it even more.
‘Mur’ca!
- When I was younger, I truly thought I exerted some sort of control over the wind. During recess I would stand out on the field and wave my arms around like an idiot trying to make a tornado.
I wanted to be the “wind” Planeteer. I can’t remember her name now off the top of my head.
- I also thought a flying machine made out of cardboard was structurally sound enough for flight and would perform like a 747 if I could only get it to take off.
I wanted a flying machine so badly.
- I have a somewhat odd fascination with the kilogram as a unit of measure. Look it up, it’s got an interesting history.
Kilogram FTW!
- There are some days when I have this incredible compassion towards the whole of humanity. There are other days where I just want to stab everyone.
Hahaha. Yup.
- I’m a fast walker.
I’m a lot faster now than I was when I wrote this, haha. I try for an average of 4.5 mph or faster.
- Within the first few seconds of entering a new room (or in a car/plane/bus), I silently figure out the best place to take cover if a disaster (earthquake, fire, hostage situation, etc.) were to occur.
Still true.
- I would love to go to Antarctica. The only thing stopping me is the fact that for an ordinary citizen like myself, I’d pretty much have to get down there via a cruise, and I don’t feel comfortable about wreaking that amount of environmental damage to the delicate ecosystem just so I can satisfy an urge to hug the southernmost continent. That, and cost issues.
Still true.
- I need schedules. I will start stabbing people if I don’t have a schedule.
I think I drive everyone nuts when I demand some sort of schedule for the proceedings of the day.
- I make a lot of stabbing jokes. I’m in reality a very gentle person.
- It bothers me when people judge others based on their musical tastes. To me, that’s like judging someone because of their favorite color. Cut it out.
Who gives a crap about what type of music someone else likes? To each their own, yo.
- In fact, it bothers me when people judge others at all. We’re all just human beings trying to survive. Live and let live if there is no harm being done.
I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite because I judge people on non-music-related petty garbage. I try not to, though.
- I’d rather arrive 30 minutes early for an appointment than be even one minute late. In fact, this is often the case.
Truth.
- I’ve had more sexual dreams involving Lady Gaga than I feel comfortable admitting.
These have stopped
- The color red-orange makes me physically ill. Even the sound of it is nausea-inducing to me.
Ugh, red-orange is the worst.
- My body responds to super-high levels of stress by sleeping through whatever is the cause of the stress. So far, I have nearly slept through an important statistics test, my first-round state drama performance, a big geography final, a major English presentation, the GRE, my final presentation for a measurement class, and the GRE (again).
Not so much anymore, I don’t think. Probably because I no longer sleep.
- Simple things like showering, making dinner, walking to the bus, and combing my hair make me really nervous for some reason.
Yup.
- I have the immune system of a god. I may have gotten worthless genetic scratch tickets when it comes to attractiveness, but I won the genetic jackpot when it comes to physical health.
My immune system is the only part of me that I don’t passionately hate.
- I’m not much of a TV person, but I’m totally obsessed with Metalocalypse. I don’t really know why. It’s so stupid it’s genius.
Metalocalypse is the best.
- I type like I think in my blogs, which is why there is frequent utilization of caps lock, lots of lists, parentheticals, and references to completely irrelevant stuff.
Yup.
- I will go to fantastic lengths to avoid having to talk to someone over the phone.
Phones are Satan disguised as a mouthpiece.
- I dress like I stood in front of an exploding Crayola factory. I have come to terms that no one will ever take me seriously as an adult because of this.
I’ve actually tried to tone this down just a little bit so that I’d taken a little bit seriously. Have to get the lecturing spots if I can.
- My clothes are organized in ROYGBIV fashion in my closet.
Still true. It’s glorious.
- I have a hard time with change. The concept, not the coins.
Change gives me unholy anxiety. The past year or so has been nothing but change, both for me and my family. Maybe that’s why I feel like garbage all the time.
- I can’t do simple math in my head. I’ve never been able to. Ask me what 7 + 6 is and I’ll sit there for an unnaturally long period of time before I eventually give you an answer.
I don’t think this will ever change.
- Because of this, I use a calculator to check ridiculously simple calculations. “What’s seven minus two? BREAK OUT THE TI-83!”
Is this embarrassing when I have to do an on-the-fly calculation during lecture and pretend I’m not frantically typing it into my calculator? Yes.
- In second grade I spent half the school year with a refrigerator box around my desk with a little window cut out of it so I could see what was going on during class. I have no idea why they let me get away with that.
Because I was awesome, that’s why.
- I’m horrible with money. I don’t go on $10,000 shopping sprees or anything like that, but I’m terrible at keeping track of my spending.
I’m trying to do better.
- I spend waaaaaaay too much time on the internet. So much so that I sometimes think in memes (e.g., “Bathroom! Y U no clean yourself?”).
As a highly reblogged Tumblr post puts it, “I spend so much time on the internet I sometimes worry I’m Internet Georg.”
- I love big cities.
Calgary is amazing. I also just quickly glanced at that and thought it read “I love big titties” because clearly that’s something I think all the time.
- Between the years 2006 and 2012, I moved houses at least once every 12 months. In my lifetime, I’ve moved nearly 30 times (most of those within one town).
I think the “move every year or so” thing has finally stopped. Hopefully.
- Apart from the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, I have scored terribly on every standardized test I’ve ever had to take. That’s talent.
Man, I rocked those Iowa Test of Basic Skills. I was in the 90-percentiles for everything except that stupid “estimation” math portion.
- I use Internet Explorer and I am not ashamed.
No more IE for me. I have turned to the dark side that is Chrome.
- I had a major crush on Lumiere from Beauty and the Beast when I was a kid. Yes, the crush was for him in candelabra form, not human form. Yes, I was a weird child. What can I say? He was hot. Literally.
Lumiere is the best.
- Dragonflies frighten me.
Dragonflies are the worst.
- I find the passing of a year extremely sad. Every New Year’s Eve I find a quiet moment to go sit alone and cry for a bit.
New Year’s is a very hard time for me. I have no idea why it’s so sad, but it is.
- I am quite possibly the least photogenic person on this planet. Do you know how many shots it took me to get that semi-decent picture I have up for this blog? Hundreds. Literally.
I’d need so much plastic surgery to even be “vaguely” attractive, man.
- I have a strong dislike for cell phones/talking on the phone/having to listen to other peoples’ obnoxiously loud phone conversations in public places. I’m also not a big fan of Twitter or Facebook. KIDS THESE DAYS.
Facebook is meh. I don’t have a lot of friends on there and don’t really care too much about what they are all up to. The ONLY things Twitter is good for is a) baseball game updates (my mom was right, Twitter’s actually good for sport-related stuff), and b) being meta and using it making fun of Twitter.
- I always have to have a way to be able to tell what time it is.
Both my wristwatch and my Fitbit broke a while back, and it’s causing a nice low level of anxiety not having a thing on my wrist that’ll tell me the time.
- My favorite period of world history is the European Age of Enlightenment. My favorite period of U.S. History is the American Revolution.
Both still true. Though I could narrow down my favorite period to July 1, 1646 to November 14, 1716. Because of reasons.
- My favorite book plot-wise is The Caine Mutiny by Herman Wouk, my favorite book character-wise is The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and my favorite book stylistically is Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov.
Still hasn’t changed.
- I’m pretty sure being forced to read To Kill A Mockingbird one more time would cause my brain to implode. I hate that book so much.
UGH THIS BOOK
- I wrote a lot of Star Wars fanfic in 1st grade.
I did. I did write a lot of Star Wars fanfic. Mostly about the droids.
- When I’m in the mood to sing along with my music, I generally like to sing some sort of harmony rather than the straight-up melody. It sounds cooler and I can pretend I’m a rock star.
I have a few songs that are really good for this. Dan Black’s Symphonies, Sugar Ray’s Chasin’ You Around, Toto’s Africa, to name a few.
- Calculus is absolutely fantastic. Calculus + Claudia = happiness.
I still want an integral tattoo on my body somewhere.
- Algebra + Claudia = I don’t know, ‘cause I can’t do algebra.
Algebra is the bane of my existence.
- Apparently I scowl a lot. It’s like my default face. I don’t do it on purpose, but it takes a lot of conscious effort not to. If that makes any sense.
Hahaha, I believe, in the time since I wrote this, the term “resting bitch face” has come into our vocabularies.
- I remember the first time I realized that I was an autonomous being that could make life-changing choices and could essentially do with my life what I wanted. That was simultaneously the greatest and worst feeling in the world.
I can’t remember how old I was when this happened, though.
- A cat we took in off the street pretty much adopted me when I was little (3 or 4) and used to follow me around wherever I toddled. She died one night on my bed as I sat awake crying. That night affected me more than a lot of the stuff that’s happened in the past couple of years.
I remember that night so very clearly.
- I find the sun very fascinating.
I think if I were to ever go back and get yet another degree, I’d try to focus on a path that would let me be a helioseismologist. Because how cool would that be?
- If I’m writing a formal paper, I need to create an extensive outline. If I’m writing fiction, I need to stay away from outlines entirely if the story’s going to be any good.
Truth.
- Scrabble is my favorite non-computer game.
Truth.
- I’m not a vegetarian, mainly because I don’t believe in valuing the lives of more “advanced” beings (pigs, cattle, etc.) over the lives of “simpler” beings (plants). This does not mean, however, that I support the animal cruelty that is so unfortunately synonymous with the U.S. beef/dairy/poultry/etc. industries.
I do feel fairly guilty whenever I actually eat meat (which is rarely) because of the cruelty issues.
- I went to a Catholic elementary school. Quite an experience for a non-Catholic.
Church was BORING and this Jesus guy was WEIRD and WHY did we have to eat his flesh and blood?!?!?!
- I think I have an abnormally frequent occurrence of double and triple numbers in my life, like 22 and 444 and 77 and such. Heck, I was born on 2/2/88 (which was the 33rd day of the year and had 333 days remaining in the year after it because it was a leap year).
I still think this is true. I see double- and triple-number a lot more than I think I should.
- I love Achievement Hunter. Sometimes I accidentally quote them around people who have no idea who they are and I get really weird looks. Seriously, try explaining Mark Nutt to somebody who doesn’t know AH.
I still love AH, but I honestly haven’t watched a single one of their new videos since Ray left. It’s not the same with out BrownMan.
- I am rarely without my headphones and iPod.
Very true.
- I lived with four guys my last year of undergrad. We took Rock Band more seriously than our school work, bought out the dollar store every Friday night, won the war against the mice that were invading our house, and slacked off more than any college students should while still being able to graduate. It was the best year of my life.
I really miss that group of dorks sometimes. I wish we had all lived together longer.
- I was lucky and got blessed with two parents who are absolutely fantastic.
Very true!
- I sleep 4 to 5 hours a night most nights.
More like 3 to 4 hours a night lately.
- Though I try to be eloquent when I speak and write, my inner dialogue is akin to that of a semi-inebriated frat boy.
I should change this to say “though I try to be eloquent when I speak and write formally,” because you’ve seen this blog. Nonsense writing is nonsense.
- Gordon Freeman is my favorite video game character, hands down.
Freeman is a rock star.
- Quake, Fallout 3, and the original Half-life are in a three-way tie as my favorite video games.
It’d be really hard to pick my absolute favorite of the three, though I think Quake and Half-Life are a little bit more favored than Fallout 3.
- I can identify most songs in my music collection within the first five seconds or so.
Yup!
- I unabashedly love Gottfried Leibniz, though you may have already guessed that if you’ve read some of my posts. I mention him quite frequently.
This is probably the truest thing on this list.
RIP Bill Paxton
So I’d thought the only movie I’d seen Bill Paxton in was Apollo 13, but apparently I just really suck at recognizing Bill Paxton.
But anyway, since Apollo 13 is was the best movie Bill Paxton was in (it was, fight me), in honor of his passing, here’s the best song from that movie. And probably one of the greatest pieces of music in the history of movies, in my opinion.
Chills, man. RIP, Mr. Paxton.
BACK2COOL
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNFFFF I have such an urge to go back to undergrad and get another degree.
I really want to study physics for some reason, though I’m pretty sure I’m not smart enough to study physics. Of course, I never thought I’d be able to get a math degree (or a Masters in stats), so there ya go.
But seriously. Look at all these options at U of C. I want to explore all of them. I’m pretty sure if I ever won the lottery (or somehow ended up with a lot of money some other way) I’d just be a student for the rest of my life. How awesome would that be?
THE DEATH FACTOR
I’m in a morbid mood this year tonight, so you get some death talk.
Okay? Okay.
I like the thought of death. I don’t mean that I currently actively want to die right now (though I’ve felt that way a few times this year*), but I still just like the thought of death.
I figure it’s because death is something that’s going to happen at some point or another. Like, you can’t get away from it, you can’t get out of it, there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.
It happens to everyone. It will happen to you, it will happen to me.
And it’s incredibly personal. There’s going to be something—be it a medical condition, an illness, an accident, or something else—that’s going to end my life. I will have an experience completely unique to me that will put an end to my existence as a living being.
I just think that’s really, really neat. I like the idea of death, as weird as that sounds.
*I’m not going to actually do anything, so chill.
Dorky Etsy Nonsense ‘Cause I’m a Dorky Nutsy Mofo
Hi.
- Integral ring
- Derivative ring
- Yeah, it made me laugh, not gonna lie
- Calculating machine
- Everything by this guy
- Everything by these ladies
- Slide rule patent print!
YAY
Heb, Ola, and Peb
So you all should love it when I have absolutely nothing to blog about, as that usually results in me dredging up some embarrassing piece of nonsense that I wrote/drew/acted in the distant past in order to fill the day’s blog post quota.
Example: Today’s post, in which I scan the pages of a children’s story I wrote in first grade. It was a coo story, because I was all about the coos back then. I wrote/illustrated the story in first grade, but in 1997 (fourth grade? Third grade? I dunno), I made a “fancy” copy of it where I typed out everything in Word and re-drew the illustrations to make it look better than the original first grade scrawl. I also made all the “official book info” by copying almost directly from the inside page of a Babysitter’s Club book.
So enjoy. (Note: their names are pronounced “heeb,” “OH-lay,” and “peeb”)
Plots are hard when you’re a first grader.
Workout Songs
NNNNNNNNNNNH I LOVE RUNNING
I forget how much I like running until I actually, y’know, go running on a consistent basis.
In the spirit of me being in run mode, I present my “Workout” playlist.
- Amazon (Original Mix) – Gabe Flaherty
- Call On Me – Eric Prydz
- Gloria (Remix) – Umberto Tozzi
- Gone – JR JR
- Hello – Martin Solveig & Dragonette
- Hula Hoop (DJ Mike D Remix) – Omi
- Infectious – Tobu
- Jealous – Chromeo
- Pump It – The Black Eyed Peas
- Shake It Off – Taylor Swift
- Strobe (Radio Edit) – Deadmau5
- Sweet Lovin’ – Sigala
- Tarzan Boy – Bango
- This Is So Good – Ehrencrona
- Tightrope – WALK THE MOON
- Wind It Up – Gwen Stefani
I obviously don’t go through all these songs in one workout; I usually put it on shuffle and just go with whatever plays.
GRUMBLE BOW
I like to think that this is what my soul would look like should anyone cut it open.
What type of weirdo goes around cutting open souls? No idea.
BUT MAYBE IT’S THE GUYS WHO RUN THIS ETSY
(They’ve got the souls of the Blue Man Group; theory confirmed)
Sorry, I’ve been super stressed out lately so I’m not making much sense.
Edit: unrelated but important: I need this!
Eigenblogger 