New Blog

I'm starting a new blog again, and leaving this one in the dust. So here it is: http://fallingoffthebrink.blogspot.com/

The Metaphorical Meaning

Many times I have wanted to post a blog about facebook, but it always turns out to sound mean and condescending. I don’t mean to be that way. I just find humor in some posts that the writer was meaning to be completely serious. I’m sure my posts have been laughed and scoffed at in turn. As have everyone’s, because no one really cares about the fact that while I was mowing the lawn yesterday I stepped in dog poop at least twice. But what does it matter? When the music stops, the rest is silence. I am not intentionally referencing a ‘90s era movie(insert sarc mark here). But really, what is it going to matter if you post what happened to you on facebook, or how you felt about it. I could post that I felt violated by stepping in that dog poop, but the dog should feel much more violated about it. He had to make that poop out in the open for any spying eye to see. But then you see: the dog, the shoe, and the whole stinky, steaming pile of facebook doesn’t really matter, because when the typing stops, the post is blank.

A little comedy and a little irony

Did I walk into a tv show? This week I was wondering if I walked into a completely different world. Another dimension that looks like reality but it’s not. The sutle clues lie all around me.

Clue #1
Yesterday I decided to take a short stroll outside and get some fresh air. I didn’t realize how fresh the air would be compared to what I had been breathing for the past week. During the last week there had been construction crews remodeling the basement of my dormitory. The basement stairway had been blocked off with a board for the entire remodeling, but today there was a sign. “Danger. Asbestos. Cancer and lung disease hazard. Authorized personnel only. Respirators and protective clothing are required in this area.” I started wondering, shouldn’t I have been informed that I could potentially die from the air that has been coming from the basement the past week? The dust from the remodeling was seeping its way up through the elevator that the construction workers were using. This is a known fact otherwise they wouldn’t have placed signs on the interior dormitory doors when the construction started. “Please keep the wing doors closed to minimize construction dust on the floors. Thankyou.” The “Thankyou” now seems like a, Thankyou for letting us use this as an excuse not to evacuate the building during the start of finals. We’re already just so stressed planning your leave in 2 weeks. By the way, these doors are the doors that we use every time we go to our rooms. It’s not like they were sealed or no one used the elevators or that there isn’t a couple windows that are open from the basement that go straight out to the patch of grass that everyone likes to sit at during the sunny days.

Clue #2
I had a call back today from a job I wanted at a Bachman’s location. In order to get an application to them, they requested that I fax it. Faxing is an outdated approach to email so the person getting the file doesn’t have to open their email and press the print button. I was informed that there was a fax machine at the Compass in the Student Union, this means I would have to pay for it. How much could a fax really cost? I found out after the sales clerk faxed my document. $6.41. All I have to say is that I better get this job.

Clue #3
The fridge “accidentally” got turned up. I woke up, put the cheerios in the bowl, and tried to pour a frozen block of milk on top. Such a lovely start to the day.

Clue #4
There was a Nordic band playing at the Moorhead library in the children’s section. And I went to the performance. And the only question I have after the show is, “Why do people wear suspenders if they are just going to leave them hanging under their butt?”

Clue #5
Yesterday I happened upon a very disturbing video about hamburgers that are literally eating people. While the animation was very well done, the product was…disturbing. I will post it here, but be advised. I will not put a parental warning because watching this video with your parents will not make it any less…disturbing. Discretion is advised for animated gore and frightening situations.

Hambuster from Hambuster Team on Vimeo.
Clue #6
Zack Efron is 24? What?

Clue #7
I’m pretty sure I ate a broken off prong from the plastic fork I got at Union City. No one can deny that MSUM is trying to kill me!

I don’t say these things for you to feel sorry for me. I know I don’t feel sorry for me. I want you to see the humor in my life. Chuckle. It’s ok. It’s funny that I tried to pour frozen milk on my cereal, a Nordic band was at the library, there’s a disturbing hamburger video, Zack Efron is 24, and I ate a plastic fork prong all while I was blowing more snot out of my nose than the red river is flooded. It’s funny that I’m going to die from asbestos poisoning…well maybe that parts not AS funny. That parts more just irony in a state college setting.

So in conclusion, this tv show I stepped into is probably a comedy with fatal endings for the main character in years to come. It might just be the cold medicine talking, but I don’t think the pilot for this show will make it.

Serial Killers

I’ve never actually thought that I could possibly, one day be murdered by a serial killer. It was never my greatest fear. My greatest fears are closer to having a wolf bite off my hand or being eaten by piranha in a swimming pool.

Last night I was bored. This is not good because the old saying is true, “idle hands are the devils play things.” It wasn’t actually the devil that tempted me to do this. It was just my own curiosity. I made an eharmony profile. I only used my middle name, but I did fill it out honestly. All the while making fun of the questions. It reminded me a little of those forwarded emails people used to send that said, “fill this out and send it to all your friends or you will die a horrible death.” At the end of the extremely long list of rating myself, I came to found that I had 7 matches within a 30 mile radius of my hometown. I read some of their profiles, but I couldn’t see their pictures or contact them without paying the piper. Like I would actually do that. So I left it.

Then, as I was now again bored with nothing to do, I thought about it. They could see my picture if they were paying customers… They know my hometown… They know my middle name…  They know the bare minimum of who I am… What if one of them is a serial killer?! I kept telling myself that was silly because they really don’t know anything about me, but it kept gnawing at me like a rat gnaws on a cacao pod. I would never actually pay the fee to meet these men anyway so what do I need it for? Then I deleted my profile so serial killers couldn’t find something out about me, find me, and hide in my attic until they decided to kill me. After that I watched Kiss the Girls. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. And that night when I turned off my lights and went to bed, I also locked the deadbolt on my door to make sure that tonight I would not be murdered in my bed.

Reflecting Light

You shine on us
And we reflect you
Lord you're beautiful
You are the Light

Everything that's beautiful is because the light
The stars and the moon and yes diamonds too
They all reflect...the light

Light makes them beautiful
You make me beautiful
May I always reflect you
Let me shine with you're truth

Lord you're beautiful
You are the Light

Not Quite Dirty Dancing

Click here to see some Dancing

Ballroom Dancing. I haven’t quite gone over this subject of my life for this blog yet, so if you have never taken a dance class, you can learn a little here. Be aware that it will not help you dance or inform you of actual dance steps. When I decided to take this class I didn’t think about the fact that I wouldn’t want to be close and hold somebody for 50 minutes straight twice a week. I knew it wouldn’t be anything like the movies. There would not be happy Baltimore rats dancing around our feet like in Hairspray, or janitors who just want to lift us up because it looks funner than changing a light bulb like in Step Up. And don’t even think that there will be a Patrick Swayze type because everyone in this class are beginners not resort performers.

One good thing about this class is that we don’t wear shoes. I’m very thankful for that when the guy can’t keep time and keeps stepping on my toes. This was the case during my latest class. I didn’t think I would be picking one of the less suitable dance partners, but then that’s not really what I’m thinking when the teacher says it’s ladies choice. I think, “Oh no! I better grab a guy quick so I don’t end up dancing with one of those timid girls that are usually left overs.” Dancing with one of the left overs is like deciding what color of socks to wear when you won’t be taking off your shoes. It doesn’t really matter, but what if? With one of the left overs you have to decided who will lead. It usually depends on height or which one of you cares the least about being the leader. When I have been stuck with one of the left overs, the teacher sees how much we’re floundering and switches up the couples. It’s quite a relief because she always puts me with someone good.

There are a few guys that I really enjoy dancing with because they are pretty good, but a couple of them are just kinda hot. Quamay (way off with the spelling on that name) is just such a guy. His well, muscled arms and chest are enough to keep me occupied while we dance around the floor. Richie is also a lovely dance partner. I would like to have him for all my dance tests; but alas, many of the girls ask him. That almost became a problem during our first test. He had to dance in 3 of the 4 sets of tests.

The kind of guys that are annoying to dance with are the ones that can’t keep time. Who think they are doing something right and they’re not but they won’t shut up to let you tell them. Who think they are always right and keep trying to tell you how to do something that you already know how to do. Who keep telling you that you’re tense or thinking too much when actually you are not tense and you’re mind is a blank with daydreams about wanting to dance with someone else. The worst of all of these is the guy who can dance good enough that you don’t mind dancing with him, but he is just short enough that his breath line is in your face and he didn’t brush his teeth that day.

I can only hope that this class will pay off and I’ll be able to live out my fantasy of dancing around a beautiful caste ballroom in a glistening yellow dress with a hairy beast in a suit while the teapot sings and the music swells. I might have to move to France though…

 

Dried Cranberries...

In an attempt to eat healthier, dried cranberries have become my new favorite snack. They are fruity and delicious! A few years ago when I tried craisins I unfortunately purchased Cherry flavored. Where does Ocean Spray come up with these horrible mixtures of flavors? Cranberries should taste like cranberries. Cherry flavored crainsins taste like dried cranberries covered in cherry cough syrup. The experience was forever ingrained in my taste buds’ memory. But, Alas! I accidentally bought a cherry flavored bag of craisins the other day and just realized this. I will never open this bag for myself so if anyone wants bastardized dried cranberries come and get them. The back of the package shows even more disturbing flavors of crainsins. You can have pomegranate, blueberry, or cherry “juice infused” crainsins. If I was a cranberry farmer I would be disgusted with the way Ocean Spray uses it’s cranberries like bodies for extraterrestrial cherry flavors to inhabit. I think we need to get Molder and Scully on the case!

Yuki Hana: Let's get all Sushi Faced

Like all good restaurant experiences, the longer you wait, the better the food will taste. That’s not true unless you are going to the outback and the food is a tray full of deep fried mushrooms and cheese fries.

Friday night 6:50pm:

I had only been to Yuki Hana once before during the lunch hour on a weekday, so a Friday night was quite a bit busier. I arrived 10 minutes early and thought surely we would get a table soon. The hostess told me it would only be about 5 minutes. After my friends, Alexis and Cheryl, arrived, the hostess told me 5 more minutes. After she repeated that phrase 2 more time during the next 25 minutes I started to wonder if, “It will only be about 5 more minutes.” Is the only sentence this woman knew how to speak in English.

Alexis: “The night was a test of patience.”

7:30pm:

The time we waited didn’t seem too long since all three of us were chit-chatting, but after waiting for around 40 minutes watching people who came after us being seated and served, a waiter finally came to seat us. We needed time to look over the menu and decide what we should try. After we told the waiter we needed a minute I was suspicious what his definition of a minute was. I was correct in assuming it was about the same length as what the hostess thought.

Everything else happened between 8:00pm and 9:45pm:

We finally ordered and started off the meal with miso soup. Apparently miso soup is made with soy beans. It really should be called “essence of soy bean” because it’s not much of anything. Maybe that’s what miso means.

Cheryl: “I want ice cream!”

Cheryl’s strong sense of smell was working extra hard that night. She liked the smell of the restaurant, could smell the soy sauce, wasabi, and couldn’t stand the smell of the ginger… When the first part of our food came, there was ginger on the edge of the plate. It had been soaked in something. The waiter told us that it was to cleanse the palette. One is supposed to rub it on the roof of their mouth and either swallow it or spit it out. I tried it once and…spit it out. For me, a swig of water works just as well to “cleanse the palette.” Alexis and Cheryl each ordered California rolls. I ordered the spicy California roll. They were good. 

Alexis and I also ordered Octopus sushi. It was a piece of octopus tied on top of a cube of rice. I didn’t think it tasted like much, but Alexis had a more opinionated comment of the taste.

Alexis: “It tastes like fishy asparagus lobster.”

We waited what seemed like an eternity before our short-armed waiter came to our table to see how we were doing. We informed him that we had only gotten half of our order. During the night we repeated our order to the waiter about 5 times, and he wrote it down 4 of those times.

Alexis: “The experience was an emotional roller coaster.”

Cheryl and Alexis were served their final rolls. Cheryl got a spicy shrimp roll, which I helped her eat.

Cheryl: “I’m gonna try this roll and if I don’t like it I’m gonna spit it out of my mouth.”

Alexis got a salmon roll that she enjoyed. She said it was “slimy but good.”

Alexis: “ I’m so full I feel like I’m going to die!”

And that was Yuki Hana in Fargo. Just don’t get the waiter with the midget arms or you’ll be there all night long.

Me: “Can’t see my, can’t see my, no you can’t see my sushi face, so fishy fishy fishy!”

H.G. Wells can’t stop this mustard stain

Mustard is a mess. It doesn’t matter what I put it on, it always ends up on me. I thought maybe I had gotten lucky when it just splattered all over my face when I opened the bottle, but I guess I got too excited when I finished making my sandwich and it squirted out of the sandwich onto my shirt. It’s kind of like in time machine movies. In most time machine movies someone dies and the main character goes back in time again to try and stop that person from dying. They always fail because of destiny/fate/whatever. Mustard is like death and I am the victim. No one can stop the mustard from staining my shirt. Although, some time machine movies they don’t even get into trying to stop the death of somebody. For example, the movie Time After Time where H.G. Wells has to go forward in time to catch Jack the Ripper who used Wells’ time machine to escape from the police by going to 1979.  At one point Wells takes his love interest in the time machine forward 3 days. They see in the paper that she will be Jack’s next victim, so like the idiots they are they go back those 3 days which makes no sense because if it says she’s dead then she wouldn’t be if they just stayed those 3 days ahead, but if they really wanted Jack not to kill all those women in 1979 then they should have gone back to the first day Jack got there to catch him. At least Jack got his in the end by being sent into infinity (whatever that means? Hopefully it means dead.) Other than the clear stupidity of the time travelers, it was a good movie. A man from the 1800s going to 1979 (funny), and me watching it from 2011 (funnier)…. from this view 1979 seems outlandish, but it was set in San Fransisco.

Baking at Mom's House

When I get into the mood to bake, I always want to try something new. This time I tried chocolate star cookies and spicy banana bars. They turned out good.

Chocolate Star Cookies

Spicy Banana Bars

The Lovers Are Losing

The week before Valentines Day is excruciatingly annoying to me. It’s not the overwhelming amount of heart shaped things. (Even at church the background pictures for the music projections had landscapes with heart shaped islands or ponds.) It’s not the various shades of pink and red decorations in every store window. The thing that bugs me is that I really could care less about February 14^th until the week before. In that one-week, there are messages from commercials, TV shows, stores, and people in general, that target single people. They either try to make you feel ashamed for being alone or they try to make Valentine’s Day into a holiday to celebrate “friendship.” I want to say that the latter of these ploys is to sell more decorations full price by encouraging “singles” parties, and the former is to get depressed single women to buy up the left over chocolate boxes the day after. I am fine with these marketing ploys as long as I can plan accordingly to avoid them. But living in a dorm, along with impressionable international students, we are pushed into the “friendship” Valentine’s Day “celebrating.”

I tried to avoid making a Valentine’s Day box when I got the notice that their would be a floor Valentine’s Day box making night. My RA tried to tempt us by saying she would give us candy on Valentine’s Day if we made one. She left all the crafting supplies out, and finally after seeing them sitting there for 4 days, I gave in.

Just being single in a college town with many other young single women, I was invited to one of these “singles” parties. I don’t want to say that these things are wrong. It’s just not in the right spirit of Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day is about romantic love. The United States is so united that it has this problem with letting holidays be for just one set of people. For example, Christmas (Christians & Santa Worshipers), Chanukkah (Jewish people), Kwanza (African Americans), Boxing Day (British people). No one wants to be left out of Christmas so they have to call it something else if they have a different religion or no religion at all.

The same thing has happened with Valentine’s Day. No one wants to be left out of the festivities, but it’s hard to kiss some one who’s not there. So let’s get all our friends over for a party to celebrate being single in a room full of red and pink hearts that say things like “I luv you” or “kiss me” or “be mine.” Have your parties if you want. It’ll be fun. But why can’t we just leave Valentine’s Day for the lovers that buy heart shaped pendants, over priced roses, and chocolates for their significant others. Because I just like to see this day as something to look forward to when I’m no longer single. (If that will ever happen.) So for all you couples out there, YOU BETTER DO SOMETHING ROMANTIC because February 14^th is for you. Even if everyone else thinks it’s for them too.

Sleepy Yet?

As I lay in my bed unable to sleep, I wonder what I could use to make myself fall into a slumber (I don’t have any sleeping pills). Orange light is seeping through the edges of the blinds on the window. Enough light that I can see my Blondie poster clearly, on the wall.  My roommate lies asleep with her computer still on her bed. Her hand is smack on her face, but it doesn’t stifle her snoring. The girls in the room next to ours are talking. I guess their roommate switch turned out for the best.

            It just turned midnight.

Music seems like a nice alternative to what I have going on here, but it won’t get me sleeping. I just put a nice workout mix on my ipod an hour ago. But wait, there is another sound I could use to help me sleep. This might seem wrong to some people but do not judge lest ye be judged. What can make one nod off to sleep when one is tired but sitting up? Church sermons. Ok, some pastors can keep people awake easily, and some even raise their voice to a yell just to wake people up during the emotional parts. There are some pastors though, that keep their voice inflections to the same volume as the rest of their talk which makes for easy sleepy time if one didn’t get their regular hours of rest because they had to get up for the early service that morning. Tonight, finding just such a sermon could help, but alas I got up to write this instead.

I envy my roommate right now. For the last hour she has slept through my phone going off on its highest ringing sound (the snoring was getting to me so I had to try something), lights going on and off (that might have something to do with her hand over her face), and just a minute ago I fell out of my chair (it was kinda loud). I’m glad she can get some sleep though. She’s still recovering from jet lag.