Lets take a walk away from the FUN firsts and into some serious ones.
The first time I moved out of my parents house. FREEDOM, Freedom, freedom! As a college freshman I was excited to be over 5 hours away from home, and without a direct line of transportation back home, my father couldn't jump into my socializing. The problems with my dorm room soon became apparent.
My first roommate that wasn't my sister, was a single child from a rich family. The best way to describe our relationship would have to be through Galinda and Elphaba's song What is this feeling?
While in my home away from home I learned how to do dishes in the bathroom sink, and another college staple coin laundry. For a scholarship student I didn't have to budget much towards tuition and fees.
That began the budgeting trend of my college era. First I'd have to save approximately $5 for laundry each week and then I moved up to food bills when I transferred out off of a food plan.
My next first was an Apartment. I still had a roommate but this time I made the mistake of choosing a friend. We had great time hanging out the only problem was where could we go to get away from eachother?
Filing taxes,
keeping budget,
paying bills,
Quicken...not fun
I left the fun world of calculus and algebra for a new kind of math. I leave simple problems where 2+2=4 and now find myself in a world where $500 a month has to stretch to $800 of bills.
I've gathered many budgeting tips from numerous sources including Quicken (I despise Quicken) to a book entitled "Budgeting made easy".
I've planned budget after budget, allotting money for savings too. But what do i get? a bigger paycheck and an empty bank account.
Sunday, January 31
Writing
1st time I completed my New Years Resolutions.
2009 was a good year for me. And it began with a journal and a resolution.
I’ve kept journals for many years. I believe my first was when I was 13. I had just moved and wanted to keep a chronicle of my adventures, like Harriet the Spy. I had seen that movie and adored her solitary lifestyle, apart and above the notice of “normal humans” so much so that she had a novel AND a movie made about her.
I knew that Harriet wasn’t a real person. My mother had me watching documentaries when I was younger. I knew that real life was not as exciting as my books.
But I thought that since the move, my life had graduated from normal to “exciting”. And so I decided to write down EVERYTHING. Otherwise I wouldn’t know what was special. Plus who knows what some one reading it in a few years would think.
My first diary was a pink booklet with a cheap lock any pin could open. And my second was a composition book just like Harriet’s.
The school I attended provided notebooks for each of our lessons. They had the school emblem and a space for our name and class and teacher. I loved these books. I collected stole(borrow long term), extra notebooks each semester even if I didn’t need them, for I could have them after I left the school. This love of notebooks, blended with the realization that my first diary lock was not suitable, led to my almost kleptomaniac behavior.
My first collection probably stems from the notebook hording I did in my earlier education. (but that's a different story for a different post).
I kept a small composition notebook (about 3"x3"). I'd write anything that happened or anything that I thought or felt. As my teachers had told me, the best way to write something is just to sit and write. I's write little quizzes that I'd make up. "What is your favorite color? What would be your dream job? What size shoe do you wear?" I'd quiz the guys and girls and compare the answers. Sometimes I'd poll people for someone else who was too shy to ask. All this information would go in my Little Black Book.
After writing in it for a semester or so, one of the guys in my homeroom, got a hold of it. Needless to say "true" thoughts aren't the balm people think truth may be. I don't like writing things that aren't true. If can't believe in it myself, (misguided emotional though it may be) than I can't write it.
And so for the words of my mock-up web design i went to Fillertext.com. A wonderful little website with made up words ripe for the taking.
My small secret i'd like to share is this, write a little, note, or letter to yourself. Give it to someone organized or that you trust, and have them mail it to you in one year from the day you wrote it.
Write in it, your hopes, dreams and expectations for yourself. Write your sorrows and joys. Fill it with confetti of memories and a small spray of your favorite scent. So that when you open it, you can remember.
2009 was a good year for me. And it began with a journal and a resolution.
I’ve kept journals for many years. I believe my first was when I was 13. I had just moved and wanted to keep a chronicle of my adventures, like Harriet the Spy. I had seen that movie and adored her solitary lifestyle, apart and above the notice of “normal humans” so much so that she had a novel AND a movie made about her.
I knew that Harriet wasn’t a real person. My mother had me watching documentaries when I was younger. I knew that real life was not as exciting as my books.
But I thought that since the move, my life had graduated from normal to “exciting”. And so I decided to write down EVERYTHING. Otherwise I wouldn’t know what was special. Plus who knows what some one reading it in a few years would think.
My first diary was a pink booklet with a cheap lock any pin could open. And my second was a composition book just like Harriet’s.
The school I attended provided notebooks for each of our lessons. They had the school emblem and a space for our name and class and teacher. I loved these books. I collected stole(borrow long term), extra notebooks each semester even if I didn’t need them, for I could have them after I left the school. This love of notebooks, blended with the realization that my first diary lock was not suitable, led to my almost kleptomaniac behavior.
My first collection probably stems from the notebook hording I did in my earlier education. (but that's a different story for a different post).
I kept a small composition notebook (about 3"x3"). I'd write anything that happened or anything that I thought or felt. As my teachers had told me, the best way to write something is just to sit and write. I's write little quizzes that I'd make up. "What is your favorite color? What would be your dream job? What size shoe do you wear?" I'd quiz the guys and girls and compare the answers. Sometimes I'd poll people for someone else who was too shy to ask. All this information would go in my Little Black Book.
After writing in it for a semester or so, one of the guys in my homeroom, got a hold of it. Needless to say "true" thoughts aren't the balm people think truth may be. I don't like writing things that aren't true. If can't believe in it myself, (misguided emotional though it may be) than I can't write it.
And so for the words of my mock-up web design i went to Fillertext.com. A wonderful little website with made up words ripe for the taking.
My small secret i'd like to share is this, write a little, note, or letter to yourself. Give it to someone organized or that you trust, and have them mail it to you in one year from the day you wrote it.
Write in it, your hopes, dreams and expectations for yourself. Write your sorrows and joys. Fill it with confetti of memories and a small spray of your favorite scent. So that when you open it, you can remember.
Reading
This semester I've learned to read my books for class. And before class too. Usually I cannot be pried away from one novel or another. My favorite genres have evolved from Fantasy (Piers Anthony, Murder Mystery (PJ Tracy, Jeffery Deaver) Sci-Fi (Orson Scott Card, Star Wars) and even military biographies (H. Norman Schwarzkopf). I can easily read three books a weeks. But it wasn't always this way.
A trilling whine resonated through the house. I HATE READING
My parents must have heard this from my mouth a thousand times. Learning to read and Phonics (c) were not my friend. I must have been a Sophist in a past life. I love to argue that words written down could not possibly be correct or as important as words spoken. Frustrated parents, as they are wont, skipped over the long and difficult road of "TEACH ME TO READ" with beginners’ books and started looking for books that would interest me. They finally succeeded with Maniac Magee. The story of a young boy who runs ON train tracks and sleeps with Yaks (the furry four legged kind) and can untie any knot, but is allergic to pizza. I didn’t have very much in common in a traditional sense, with a boy who lives on his own and is allergic to pizza. But emotionally and in my fantasies I had no trouble viewing myself as the protagonist.
Johnny Hangtime was the next book I remember, and still treasure. This story is based on the exciting life of a young stunt double. What kid wouldn't want to get paid to jump off things and roll down stairs!! Concrete stairs are more pay than carpeted stairs.
These characters spoke to me in ways that boring Reading List books couldn't. They were about boys {I'm obviously a girl now, but my father raised me to be active in a way not specific to a gender} who tried to live outside limits. Always pushing themselves. With Magee, he pushed cultural and social limits of the neighborhood he discovered, and he has a friend with the same nickname as my favorite candy bar. Johnny lives the double life, a normal bullied kid, but secretly he has a perfect secret. I could relate to living differently than the kids down the block.
Once I got an interest it was easy to keep me hooked when my parents took me to an awesome book store. Books-a-Million was wonderful. They had a train built of wood with a small TV and it ran kids movies like Veggietales or Loony Tunes. I remember the day I found out that I could pries the cubbyhole open and change the VHS inside. But there were also rows of seats where you could take a book off the shelves and read them. It was great! Not as boring as a library or as strict and I could take a break and play with the toy sets or try to find a book about lions with my sister. The books are arranged in easy to find sections. All the kids books are in one place. And the best part is... after an hour you can read another one.
If you want to get a kid interested in reading, find something they like in a toy or a characteristic they portray, and then a book with about it. That is what my GrandPa did, he made a book (fill-in-name) story. My brothers’ was about sports and mine was about Beckey's Ark (not Noah).
Around puberty I must have realized that as a girl I was different than the boys I enjoyed reading about. This change also coincided with a move overseas. So I tried a new genre. Royal Diaries. My first was about Nzinga the Warrior Queen of Matamba in 1624. A young woman who wants her father to notice her.
My favorites include Mary Queen of Scots, Eleanor of France, Cleopatra VII, Anastasia of Russia, and Marie Antoinette.
Though based on real events, I realized that these were fiction. I enjoyed the sense of realism in the voice of these young girls growing into power and dealing with their trials, it gave me a hope for my own life. I believed that if Marie Antoinette can survive being married at 14 to a man she doesn’t know I could survive HighSchool.
Once I outgrew the age group 13-16 it was easy to find my next step in imaginative fiction. Piers Anthony, Philip Pullman, and I capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Now that I understand the different layers in reality exist I could learn things using fictional settings and information in novels. Books are no longer burdens to live through. They are a doorway, a highway to possibilities and opinions that I cannot experience myself. I’ll never be a 15 year old boy living on my own. But I can empathize a bit more with my younger cousins. I can even get them hooked on one or two of my favorites.
After a few years I now read 700 page novels quite easily, in a day or two. I'm reading autobiographies, war stories, historical documents, and non-fiction stories for fun. I’m even enjoying reading my books for university classes. Who knows what I may learn next. My favorite books will be from my childhood.
And I still cannot pronounce words correctly.
A trilling whine resonated through the house. I HATE READING
My parents must have heard this from my mouth a thousand times. Learning to read and Phonics (c) were not my friend. I must have been a Sophist in a past life. I love to argue that words written down could not possibly be correct or as important as words spoken. Frustrated parents, as they are wont, skipped over the long and difficult road of "TEACH ME TO READ" with beginners’ books and started looking for books that would interest me. They finally succeeded with Maniac Magee. The story of a young boy who runs ON train tracks and sleeps with Yaks (the furry four legged kind) and can untie any knot, but is allergic to pizza. I didn’t have very much in common in a traditional sense, with a boy who lives on his own and is allergic to pizza. But emotionally and in my fantasies I had no trouble viewing myself as the protagonist.
Johnny Hangtime was the next book I remember, and still treasure. This story is based on the exciting life of a young stunt double. What kid wouldn't want to get paid to jump off things and roll down stairs!! Concrete stairs are more pay than carpeted stairs.
These characters spoke to me in ways that boring Reading List books couldn't. They were about boys {I'm obviously a girl now, but my father raised me to be active in a way not specific to a gender} who tried to live outside limits. Always pushing themselves. With Magee, he pushed cultural and social limits of the neighborhood he discovered, and he has a friend with the same nickname as my favorite candy bar. Johnny lives the double life, a normal bullied kid, but secretly he has a perfect secret. I could relate to living differently than the kids down the block.
Once I got an interest it was easy to keep me hooked when my parents took me to an awesome book store. Books-a-Million was wonderful. They had a train built of wood with a small TV and it ran kids movies like Veggietales or Loony Tunes. I remember the day I found out that I could pries the cubbyhole open and change the VHS inside. But there were also rows of seats where you could take a book off the shelves and read them. It was great! Not as boring as a library or as strict and I could take a break and play with the toy sets or try to find a book about lions with my sister. The books are arranged in easy to find sections. All the kids books are in one place. And the best part is... after an hour you can read another one.
If you want to get a kid interested in reading, find something they like in a toy or a characteristic they portray, and then a book with about it. That is what my GrandPa did, he made a book (fill-in-name) story. My brothers’ was about sports and mine was about Beckey's Ark (not Noah).
Around puberty I must have realized that as a girl I was different than the boys I enjoyed reading about. This change also coincided with a move overseas. So I tried a new genre. Royal Diaries. My first was about Nzinga the Warrior Queen of Matamba in 1624. A young woman who wants her father to notice her.
My favorites include Mary Queen of Scots, Eleanor of France, Cleopatra VII, Anastasia of Russia, and Marie Antoinette.
Though based on real events, I realized that these were fiction. I enjoyed the sense of realism in the voice of these young girls growing into power and dealing with their trials, it gave me a hope for my own life. I believed that if Marie Antoinette can survive being married at 14 to a man she doesn’t know I could survive HighSchool.
Once I outgrew the age group 13-16 it was easy to find my next step in imaginative fiction. Piers Anthony, Philip Pullman, and I capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Now that I understand the different layers in reality exist I could learn things using fictional settings and information in novels. Books are no longer burdens to live through. They are a doorway, a highway to possibilities and opinions that I cannot experience myself. I’ll never be a 15 year old boy living on my own. But I can empathize a bit more with my younger cousins. I can even get them hooked on one or two of my favorites.
After a few years I now read 700 page novels quite easily, in a day or two. I'm reading autobiographies, war stories, historical documents, and non-fiction stories for fun. I’m even enjoying reading my books for university classes. Who knows what I may learn next. My favorite books will be from my childhood.
And I still cannot pronounce words correctly.
Wednesday, January 27
Creatures Large and Small
I've always had pets.
There are very few years that aren't filled with scratches, bite marks,or shed hair.
My First pet I can actually remember (petting, feeding and generally loving) would be Kitten Little. She was found on the side of the road when I was two. My father was always a nature nerd and so we scooped her up, and took her home. She was so tiny she could fit entirely into my fathers' palm. Because she was so small we had to feed her from an eye dropper. As she grew, we taught her to be litter trained and how to live outside when my mother's allergies got too bad.
I remember her because we were together for nearly 16 years. In that time she was more my friend than any person. She slept on my bed. Either curled up on my toes or in the scoop of my bent legs. She sat on my lap, when the sunlight no longer lazed across her favorite spot by the window. And she played. Out of all the cat's I've known, SHE was the best mixture of temperament and energy.
My next cat and the first pet I adopted from a shelter was Oscar; the fat, shedding, old cat.
Oscar was one of a pair of two aged cats who had been discarded when their owner grew too old to take care of them. At 11 and 12years old they couldn't be separated, and had to be adopted together. In my infinite wisdom I decided that two old cats would be better than on kitten ANY DAY. They'd already be house broken and already act well around people. I was right. Except for the fact that I personally had to empty their litter box everyday like clockwork. One thing that will give anyone a sense of work is to follow an old cat that has diarrhea and clean it up. I can now say that I will be ready when I have children; I know all the best surface cleaners!
I must have based my love of animals from my first nature walk with my dad. He taught me to love all kinds of creatures, by showing me their habitats in person. He explained to me early in life that they are created for a reason. Each animal has it's own environment and within that sphere they have their own jobs. Spiders for instance are not scary. Not unless you find a wolf-spider on you in the shower like I did at 16. Spiders are great, they keep bugs from
Trying to take over the world
If you've seen Pinky and the Brain you'll recognize this reference. If you haven't Go Here.
There are very few years that aren't filled with scratches, bite marks,or shed hair.
My First pet I can actually remember (petting, feeding and generally loving) would be Kitten Little. She was found on the side of the road when I was two. My father was always a nature nerd and so we scooped her up, and took her home. She was so tiny she could fit entirely into my fathers' palm. Because she was so small we had to feed her from an eye dropper. As she grew, we taught her to be litter trained and how to live outside when my mother's allergies got too bad.
I remember her because we were together for nearly 16 years. In that time she was more my friend than any person. She slept on my bed. Either curled up on my toes or in the scoop of my bent legs. She sat on my lap, when the sunlight no longer lazed across her favorite spot by the window. And she played. Out of all the cat's I've known, SHE was the best mixture of temperament and energy.
My next cat and the first pet I adopted from a shelter was Oscar; the fat, shedding, old cat.
Oscar was one of a pair of two aged cats who had been discarded when their owner grew too old to take care of them. At 11 and 12years old they couldn't be separated, and had to be adopted together. In my infinite wisdom I decided that two old cats would be better than on kitten ANY DAY. They'd already be house broken and already act well around people. I was right. Except for the fact that I personally had to empty their litter box everyday like clockwork. One thing that will give anyone a sense of work is to follow an old cat that has diarrhea and clean it up. I can now say that I will be ready when I have children; I know all the best surface cleaners!I must have based my love of animals from my first nature walk with my dad. He taught me to love all kinds of creatures, by showing me their habitats in person. He explained to me early in life that they are created for a reason. Each animal has it's own environment and within that sphere they have their own jobs. Spiders for instance are not scary. Not unless you find a wolf-spider on you in the shower like I did at 16. Spiders are great, they keep bugs from
Trying to take over the world
If you've seen Pinky and the Brain you'll recognize this reference. If you haven't Go Here.
MY next fuzzy feline quite literally chose me. Two years after being in a new house I noticed the lack of feline companionship.
I often took nature walks in the grove of trees behind my house. One day while I was walking I heard a mewling sound. And out of the bushes walked a small ginger cat. He was very thin and eyed me from a few feet away. I pet him and got him to follow me up to the house he wouldn't come up to the porch. So I yelled inside and had my roommate keep an eye on him while i cranked open a can of tuna a can of chicken and a handful of dog food and a dish of water.
Two vaccinations later, two collars, two vets, and the name Fred, we are still Cat and Owner.
If you haven't owned a pet I'd suggest you find time to visit a shelter and at least play with the lonely animals there... The most rewarding pets are Cats and Dogs. They teach you more about relationships than any psychology class can everyday.
Monday, January 25
Blindness cures ED
Designing my first ad in class I choose to highlight the adverse effects of Viagra, or perhaps the hopeful effects of taking the drug... blindness.
My ad runs something like this:
-Narrator: "Is your signifigant other just too ugly for you to 'get it up'?
-Guy: "Yeah! But I love her. Or at least I'm stuck with her."
-Narrator: "NO Worries! With Viagra's special concentrated doses, that cause temporary blindness you'll never have trouble "facing" her limp again."
-Guy: "Golly!"
-Narrator: "Order now and get a 2nd rush delivery FREE!"
WARNING: This ad has nothing to do with real viagra, it's just a joke even though it's funny.
Haha! The fun you can have with gullible people. The interesting thing is that ED has more to do with the guy than the girl. Ironic that after all the work girls put into being "perfect" guys still get inferior complexes too. (that and diabetes) Hey guys eat better now and take care of yourself or you won't be getting any at 60.
My ad runs something like this:
-Narrator: "Is your signifigant other just too ugly for you to 'get it up'?-Guy: "Yeah! But I love her. Or at least I'm stuck with her."
-Narrator: "NO Worries! With Viagra's special concentrated doses, that cause temporary blindness you'll never have trouble "facing" her limp again."
-Guy: "Golly!"
-Narrator: "Order now and get a 2nd rush delivery FREE!"
WARNING: This ad has nothing to do with real viagra, it's just a joke even though it's funny.
Haha! The fun you can have with gullible people. The interesting thing is that ED has more to do with the guy than the girl. Ironic that after all the work girls put into being "perfect" guys still get inferior complexes too. (that and diabetes) Hey guys eat better now and take care of yourself or you won't be getting any at 60.
Friday, January 22
Make it look good!
First thing I do in the morning:
Turn off my phone (alarm on vibrate under my pillow.)
Walk to the bathroom and look at the night's damage to my hair.
I used to hear that females spend a lot of time preening, grooming and generally standing in front of the mirror. Are we vain? Are we just looking after our investment into the gene pool?
In Funny Girl the musical.
Many women over the age know that, "If a girl isn't pretty, like a Miss Atlantic City, all she gets from life is pity and a pat."
Who whats to be Miss Atlantic City? I prefer the Miss Outdoors in Maryland.
Why are girls seen as JUST pretty? Are they? Does it matter?
The definition of beauty: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest).
Turn off my phone (alarm on vibrate under my pillow.)
Walk to the bathroom and look at the night's damage to my hair.
I used to hear that females spend a lot of time preening, grooming and generally standing in front of the mirror. Are we vain? Are we just looking after our investment into the gene pool?
In Funny Girl the musical.
Many women over the age know that, "If a girl isn't pretty, like a Miss Atlantic City, all she gets from life is pity and a pat."
Who whats to be Miss Atlantic City? I prefer the Miss Outdoors in Maryland.
Why are girls seen as JUST pretty? Are they? Does it matter?
The definition of beauty: the quality present in a thing or person that gives intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern, or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest).
I noticed that beauty for most is on the outside (their FIRST, part of the definition.) I was in 7th grade and I didn't have the clothes or body or the hair style to be as pretty as the rest. A poor tomboy with a crew cut doesn't quite fit in most public schools.
Years later I realized I've always had an advantage inherent in my features; my smile. Born with a huge mouth that blessed my parents with hours of screams and songs, I can fit all these 32 (sorry not 42) wonderful teeth into it. I've never needed braces or a retainer to move my mouth into near perfection. And that's when I realized my First is when that my beauty isn't in the alignment of my teeth, my cup size or my height. it's in the scar on my lip, and the kink in my hair.
MY beauty isn't in perfection, I'll take the second part of the definition "Qualities Manifested".
Here are a few of my Beautiful Women: Nike Ad , Tracy Lewis , Dara Torres , NG
Wednesday, January 20
Html ?
I learned how to search the web for HTML codes and for the best web sites to copy and paste from.
Shh... Don't Tell.
- One of the nifty things I found out was how to flip back and forth between 'windows'. It's quite simple, you just hit the 'tab' and 'alt' keys simultaneously. Or as I do... Hold alt and tap tab until you reach the window that you want. ♥
- The second thing I learned was how to read code.
It must have been developed by an English professor or such because it's vaguely similar to Grammar.
There are beginnings and ends to each phrase.
In English these would be Capital Letters and Periods.
In HTML they are Carrots. Not the food you ignoramus. They are these things < >. I won't give away too much because this isn't a How To blog. Ah the palpable disappointment. - Third on my list of things I have learned was; how to add a link. And open it in a new window too!) My Example is here ↓
Here is one of the good sites I found to yoink from.
SITE!!
Fun things i found on my searchings...
- How to change the bullet points into ♦ and Roman Numerals. It's all about the type.
- I ran into a few color code charts. Some with ALL the COLORS you can think of and others with fewer choices but oh so wonderfully arranged.
Ciao Bella! -Ciao Bello!
Tuesday, January 19
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
