I love etymology. It is one of my many favorite language-related things. It helps that I love almost everything about languages, except for the fact that I only speak two.
Etymologies of words that are very interesting (to me, but maybe not to you):
1. America. This one might not be etymology, but is still really interesting. The name "America" first appeared on the Waldseemüller map in 1507 (and it's just a really interesting world map and I might do a post on it). "Sure, Winona," you might be saying, "and now you'll remind me that it was in honor of Amerigo Vespucci, and that's kind of weird, I guess, but that's not really at the level of the delightfully awesome things that I've come to expect from you." And I will laugh, because that totally wasn't all I had to say. Yes, so you know it was in honor of Amerigo Vespucci, an explorer. But what you don't know is that the name "America" might be a pun.
Now, if you're me, at the word pun, you are already in love with whatever comes next, but if you're not, you really should be very excited. Because you have been, every time you say the word "America", been committing an act of unintentional wordplay, which as we all know, is the best kind. And you might even have been born into a commission of unintentional wordplay, which is so cool. Anyway, the wordplay is (and it might seem a bit anticlimactic after all that) that it is a multilingual pun similar to Thomas More's "utopia" (which is also on this list), meaning both "born anew" and "no place". I don't know what the languages are that make up this pun, and I can't even guess because Waldseemüller probably spoke WAY more languages than I do (see: This for my rant on how many languages I don't yet speak).
2. cliché. This one is one of my favorites, probably. I was sitting one day, minding my own business and reading the Internet, when one of my friends IMs me and says "cliché is an onomatopoeia" which is just the perfect kind of thing to say to me out of nowhere. If you do not know what an onomatopoeia is, it is a word that sounds like a sound (that is a weird way of phrasing it, Winona), like "buzz", "splash", "murmur", "spelunk" or a million other neat words. "Cliché" is a word that dates back to the time of printing presses, and stereotypes. In printing language, cliché was actually another name for a stereotype, if I have any reading comprehension at all, which was the cast phrase of movable type. It made sense to cast entire phrases (as opposed to individual letters, then arranging the letters into the desired phrase) if the phrase was going to be very commonly used. The name "cliché" came from the sound the matrices (the negative letter molds which would be cast into the letters used for printing) made when dropped into the hot metal that would form the letters used.
Apparently there is doubt about the etymology I have explained, but I cannot check my desired source, the OED, because I am poor. So I say that this is correct, because it is excellent. If it isn't, I don't care unless the real etymology is even more excellent.
3. scruples. This is the first word on this list where I can point to a specific word and say "that's the source of this word", so I will. Scruples derives from "scrupulus" (i, m.--I am a Latinist at heart), which in turn is the diminutive of "scrupus" (i, m.). Scrupus means "rock" or "stone", and "scrupulus" means "pebble". "What?" you might be saying. "Etymology makes no sense and is dumb. I am out of here." "Wait," I might say if this were actually a conversation, "let me explain how awesome this is." And you would perhaps wait. Or leave. I actually have no way of telling. Anyway. A scruple was a stone you would keep in your pocket, and touch to remind you of things like "be honest" or "be kind". I personally think they would have been more effective if they were in your shoe, but that is just me. So the word scruple came to mean the thing represented by the stone, instead of the stone itself, which is another cool figure of speech that might be metonymy or "reverse-metonymy". I do not know. Until about last year, I could not tell the difference between metonymy and synecdoche because they are very similar. (Also, I was very concerned because the computer would tell me that it did not know this word "synecdoche" and I thought I was a failure at spelling so I looked up that movie because I knew I had looked it up on this computer when I was learning about existentialism and then I found out that I was right and the computer was wrong. That is the best kind of vindication.) [I now know that it is actually synecdoche or possibly reverse synecdoche, but I thought my confusion was amusing so I will leave it.]
4. zeugma. A zeugma is a figure of speech (I think I will do a post on figures of speech because I like them. More than any normal person does.) where a verb is used with two different objects, or an adjective with two different nouns (in English. In Latin, there isn't really a name for the adjective-noun usage.) where the use is idiomatic in one case and literal in the other, or where the verb or adjective can only be properly used with one of the two. Examples are in order. Verb-object zeugma: "She made up her face and her mind." "She left in a tizzy and a sedan." and so forth. Adjective-noun zeugma: I cannot find or think of examples because I am terribly lazy. Just know that it might actually be a thing, or it might be something I made up because I thought it would be interesting.
Anyway. This is also an etymology that I didn't find out on my own, because I don't speak Greek (as I have previously complained). But I have friends who appreciate etymology and tell me these sorts of things. Zeugma comes from the Greek "ζεῦγμα", zeugma, meaning, "to yoke". That is neat, for one, because it describes exactly what a zeugma does, or rather, what the verb in the zeugma does, as it yokes together two differing parts of the sentence. Another reason this is cool is that there are some other words in English that also derive from "ζεῦγμα". Like yoga, because you're yoking your body and mind, I imagine. So, I find that neat.
5. logodaedaly. This is a word I learned reading a book by one of my favorite authors of all time, Vladimir Nabokov. He had synesthesia and also spoke at least three languages, French, Russian, and English. So, there are two reasons right there I am envious of him. (I originally wrote "jealous" but I think you can only be jealous of something you own or otherwise possess. Except Fowler's Modern English Usage is silent on the issue and I have heard everyone use them interchangeably so I do not know what is what.) Anyway. I was reading Lolita, and discovered that it is the kind of book you have to read with a good dictionary and also a working knowledge of French (or the Internet) nearby, so that made it difficult. As did, of course, the subject matter, but I digress. So there was a point in the book where Nabokov used the word "logodaedalist". I was impressed (but not surprised, because I had encountered many such words in that book), because I can generally sort out words by context but this one stumped me, and also it is a beautiful word. Logodaedaly derives from the Greek "λόγος", "word", and "Δαίδαλος", "Daidalos". Yeah, of Daedalus and Icarus. So basically, if you are a logodaedalist, it means you are a "word-craftsman" (and good at it too, of course) or, if you are all for things that sound awesome, a "word-sculptor". That is what I am putting on my business cards.
6. utopia. This is Thomas More's Greek pun (I wish I could make a Greek pun, or any foreign language pun. But not yet.), and also the title of the book he wrote coining this word, and the name of the country wherein it takes place (Possibly an incorrect use of the word "wherein". I guess it depends on how you use "takes place", and if it needs an "in" to go along with it. But I digress). The book is so full of wordplay (all Greek-based, and also the book was written in Latin so that is two more awesome things) you will explode in a pun-filled explosion (not as clever an ending as I hoped). I would always tell people that this is cool, because it is a pun, and no one cared as much as I did. Then again, no one really cares as much as I do about puns anyway, because they are losers who will have normal-person lives. Utopia comes from "οὐ", a negation indicator (or "not"), and "τόπος", place. "That's kind of boring," you might say, "So the word we use to mean a perfect place actually means nowhere. Tell me something I don't know already." Then I go on to explain how this is a pun (you are really very impatient sometimes, implied reader). "οὐτόπος" is very similar in spelling to "εὖτόπος", which comes from "εὖ", "good" and "τόπος" again (it seems silly to tell you what it means twice). So, it sort of looks like "good place" which is how people use it anyway because they care nothing for etymology. Plus, bonus points, because "utopia" and "eutopia" are pronounced the same way in English, so. There you have it.
I enjoy doing these kinds of posts so I will probably do several more (though I doubt I will do nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine more). I hope you enjoyed reading this.
31 December 2010
30 December 2010
Authors Who Have Really Cool Signatures
I recently saw a Nook cover that had several authors' signatures on it. Some of them were awesome, in some way or another. It led me to wonder which other authors, aside from the ones listed, have or had awesome signatures, which led me to research, which I will now present to you.
Most all of these signatures are on this list for an entirely different reason. All are on the list because I like them.
Also, there are a lot of pictures [20], because that makes it easier for you to judge my assessments and agree with me, so be forewarned.
1. Oscar Wilde
I really like how sloppy this is, like he's simply too busy being an aesthete and a hedonist to sign his name neatly. The 'e' is my favorite part, followed close after by the period. (I also will sometimes put a period after my signature, like my name is a sentence. And, in Oscar Wilde's case, maybe it is.)
2. Joseph Conrad
I saw this signature, and I said : "When I get home, I am going to write a blog post about this signature."
This is simply a gorgeous signature. My favorite parts are the 'C' and the 'd', because they are pieces of orthographic excellence.
3. Lord Byron
Yes, my unnatural obsession with Lord Byron is both baffling and amusing, I know.
Please, look at this signature and then say, "that signature is not awesome." Because you will be lying. Also, now I have five reasons why Lord Byron is awesome.
4. Edgar Allan Poe
Yeah, a master of horror signs his name in seventh-grade-girl cursive.
5. Victor Hugo
Such tiny letters, Mr. Hugo! And such a huge tail on the 'g'! I think I might just find this one a tad comical.
6. Fyodor Dostoevsky
"Oh," you might be saying. "I wasn't aware it was 'make fun of signatures in foreign alphabets time'. Let me go get my hat."
Yeah, it is not that. I know his name is spelled Фёдор Михайлович Достоевский and that Cyrillic cursive is pretty crazy. Take both of those into consideration and just look at the second half of his last name. That is just excellent.
7. Charles Dickens
It's about as easy to read as Hard Times.
8. Jean-Paul Sartre
The best part about this is that you can almost read it. The 'S' is probably the best part. That makes grammatic sense, and is excellent.
9. G. K. Chesterton
I think that the 'G' has a reversed 'K' written on top of it. If not, it has sun rays coming out of it, which is also pretty neat. This signature must have taken time to do, obviously, and a lot of care. It's also aesthetically pleasant.
He also underlined his name, which is always an interesting touch.
10. Aldous Huxley
Here is another signature with a period at the end, also probably written rapidly. I was going to make a fairly obvious joke but I won't. I will mention that I considered it.
11. James Joyce
"Winona," you might have been saying. "You're biased! You've only listed authors you like." While, yes, I, along with basically every other thinking individual, am biased, here is James Joyce's signature. I like that there is no real definition to the letters, just a wave of ink.
Also, imagine receiving a letter filled with the dirtiest things you can imagine, written in that handwriting. [P.S. more Hark, a vagrant]
12. Jack Kerouac
The mere mention of Kerouac in my presence leads to a physical response, regardless of what has been said about him. That is how much I dislike Kerouac. But here he is on my list, because I do like his signature. Unlike On the Road, care went into it.
Also, I didn't know that Jack was a nickname for John. The more you know.
13. Ayn Rand
I am also not a huge fan of Ayn Rand.
But I always find the signatures people who use pseudonyms use to be interesting. Signing someone else's name is hard. I think that's why most of them wind up like this, or this in cursive [check out Mark Twain].
14. Anthony Burgess
This whole thing is actually really very pretty. It is also the signature of a pen name (which I had actually forgotten until I visited Wikipedia on some semi-unrelated mission), so. And by 'so', I mean 'so there, Ayn Rand.'
15. Arthur Koestler
This is almost entirely illegible, which is part of why I like it. The other part is the way he formed the 'A'. I like it.
Also, Arthur Koestler has an honorary knighthood, so that is cool, but I personally would mention that in my signature.
16. Edward Gorey
I love Edward Gorey. I am somewhat obsessed with him, but that is no matter because he is wonderful, and wrote one of my favorite books [The Gashlycrumb Tinies. Yes. One of my favorite books is a picture book. What of it?]. And then we come to this signature, which is excellently formed. My favorite is the 'G'. (It's harder to sort out than the Disney 'D'.)
17. Bram Stoker
This is entirely illegible, not even almost. If I hadn't known it was Bram Stoker's signature from the beginning, I would have been lost.
I feel like I had something else to say, but I don't recall.
18. H. G. Wells
Whatever that thing at the bottom is, I like it and I want twenty.
The initials are pretty cool too.
19. J. R. R. Tolkien
Favorite part: the 'k'. Also, the line underneath.
I just like Tolkien, that might be eighty percent of the reason this is on here. Also he is awesome.
20. Boris Pasternak
I don't know what it is about this signature (probably the line of the 't'), but I think it is elegant.
I also find signatures that are in a different alphabet from the author's native one (such as this signature [or also Nabokov's, if you are interested]) to be interesting.
Second blog post tangentially related to literature, and also the second to mention Lord Byron. Hmm.
Most all of these signatures are on this list for an entirely different reason. All are on the list because I like them.
Also, there are a lot of pictures [20], because that makes it easier for you to judge my assessments and agree with me, so be forewarned.
1. Oscar Wilde
I really like how sloppy this is, like he's simply too busy being an aesthete and a hedonist to sign his name neatly. The 'e' is my favorite part, followed close after by the period. (I also will sometimes put a period after my signature, like my name is a sentence. And, in Oscar Wilde's case, maybe it is.)
2. Joseph Conrad
I saw this signature, and I said : "When I get home, I am going to write a blog post about this signature."
This is simply a gorgeous signature. My favorite parts are the 'C' and the 'd', because they are pieces of orthographic excellence.
3. Lord Byron
Yes, my unnatural obsession with Lord Byron is both baffling and amusing, I know.
Please, look at this signature and then say, "that signature is not awesome." Because you will be lying. Also, now I have five reasons why Lord Byron is awesome.
4. Edgar Allan Poe
Yeah, a master of horror signs his name in seventh-grade-girl cursive.
5. Victor Hugo
Such tiny letters, Mr. Hugo! And such a huge tail on the 'g'! I think I might just find this one a tad comical.
6. Fyodor Dostoevsky
"Oh," you might be saying. "I wasn't aware it was 'make fun of signatures in foreign alphabets time'. Let me go get my hat."
Yeah, it is not that. I know his name is spelled Фёдор Михайлович Достоевский and that Cyrillic cursive is pretty crazy. Take both of those into consideration and just look at the second half of his last name. That is just excellent.
7. Charles Dickens
It's about as easy to read as Hard Times.
8. Jean-Paul Sartre
The best part about this is that you can almost read it. The 'S' is probably the best part. That makes grammatic sense, and is excellent.
9. G. K. Chesterton
I think that the 'G' has a reversed 'K' written on top of it. If not, it has sun rays coming out of it, which is also pretty neat. This signature must have taken time to do, obviously, and a lot of care. It's also aesthetically pleasant.
He also underlined his name, which is always an interesting touch.
10. Aldous Huxley
Here is another signature with a period at the end, also probably written rapidly. I was going to make a fairly obvious joke but I won't. I will mention that I considered it.
11. James Joyce
"Winona," you might have been saying. "You're biased! You've only listed authors you like." While, yes, I, along with basically every other thinking individual, am biased, here is James Joyce's signature. I like that there is no real definition to the letters, just a wave of ink.
Also, imagine receiving a letter filled with the dirtiest things you can imagine, written in that handwriting. [P.S. more Hark, a vagrant]
12. Jack Kerouac
The mere mention of Kerouac in my presence leads to a physical response, regardless of what has been said about him. That is how much I dislike Kerouac. But here he is on my list, because I do like his signature. Unlike On the Road, care went into it.
Also, I didn't know that Jack was a nickname for John. The more you know.
13. Ayn Rand
I am also not a huge fan of Ayn Rand.
But I always find the signatures people who use pseudonyms use to be interesting. Signing someone else's name is hard. I think that's why most of them wind up like this, or this in cursive [check out Mark Twain].
14. Anthony Burgess
This whole thing is actually really very pretty. It is also the signature of a pen name (which I had actually forgotten until I visited Wikipedia on some semi-unrelated mission), so. And by 'so', I mean 'so there, Ayn Rand.'
15. Arthur Koestler
This is almost entirely illegible, which is part of why I like it. The other part is the way he formed the 'A'. I like it.
Also, Arthur Koestler has an honorary knighthood, so that is cool, but I personally would mention that in my signature.
16. Edward Gorey
I love Edward Gorey. I am somewhat obsessed with him, but that is no matter because he is wonderful, and wrote one of my favorite books [The Gashlycrumb Tinies. Yes. One of my favorite books is a picture book. What of it?]. And then we come to this signature, which is excellently formed. My favorite is the 'G'. (It's harder to sort out than the Disney 'D'.)
17. Bram Stoker
This is entirely illegible, not even almost. If I hadn't known it was Bram Stoker's signature from the beginning, I would have been lost.
I feel like I had something else to say, but I don't recall.
18. H. G. Wells
Whatever that thing at the bottom is, I like it and I want twenty.
The initials are pretty cool too.
19. J. R. R. Tolkien
Favorite part: the 'k'. Also, the line underneath.
I just like Tolkien, that might be eighty percent of the reason this is on here. Also he is awesome.
20. Boris Pasternak
I don't know what it is about this signature (probably the line of the 't'), but I think it is elegant.
I also find signatures that are in a different alphabet from the author's native one (such as this signature [or also Nabokov's, if you are interested]) to be interesting.
Second blog post tangentially related to literature, and also the second to mention Lord Byron. Hmm.
29 December 2010
Things That I am Afraid Of (That Apparently Normal People Are Not)
I, as a thinking being, have fears. I, as a somewhat neurotic being, have many fears. I am frequently told that many of the things that I fear are things that I don't need to fear, and also that I am weird for being afraid of them. Someday, I imagine, I will be vindicated.
Things I am "unreasonably" afraid of:
1. Birds. I am afraid of birds because they have eyes that look into your soul and learn all of your darkest secrets and fears. They also only hop when they are not flying. Hopping is an entirely unacceptable form of locomotion, which leads me to believe that they are evil hell-beasts, or that they are hiding something, most likely something terrible. I think birds know how the world will end--because they will engineer that end.
2. The Octopus. This is singular because octopus is a word with three accepted plurals, which is not a battle I am going to get into. I am also immediately suspicious of any word with more than one plural. It bodes ill. I am afraid of their tentacles, in part, but I have a far more all-encompassing fear. I am afraid of them because they are smart and can squish to be very small. They could fit under a door, and could most likely figure out how to work the lock--allowing their companions in this horrifying scenario, the velociraptor, entrance. If you say "That is totally unfeasible, they need to be underwater, your fears are weird", consider what weird things scientists are currently doing, and ask yourself, "Self, how long do you think it will be before someone figures out how to free all those horrifying sea creatures from their salty prison?" And your self will curl up in a corner of your brain and cry, because the bottom of the ocean is straight-up Lovecraft.
3. Squid. Squid are about as terrifying as the octopus, but in an entirely different way. First we have things like the Humboldt squid, which will attack you. Because it's fun. There is somewhere video from a camera that got attached to a Humboldt squid that was captured then sent back to its... squiderie. Its friends/family attacked and killed it. So, that is fun. Then, there is the giant squid, which lives at the bottom of the ocean. Point one against it. It also has some razor-bits in its tentacle suckers, so that is fun. I am also mistrustful of it because it implodes when it reaches sane pressures. It is too used to the pressure, and when it no longer has it, it burns out, much like an over-achieving high school student. Finally (as if I could ever finish the list of reasons I find squid terrifying), there is the colossal squid. People theorize that it is the Kraken. It is the size of a small island. And it does not need the pressure the giant squid does. Which is why, you know, people saw it, and subsequently went mad with fear, as any reasonable person would. It also has a far more horrifying tentacle-attachment, a hook-tooth that can rotate almost 360 degrees. I am never going swimming in the ocean.
4. Velociraptors. This is, I admit, a somewhat unreasonable fear, since there are very few velociraptors alive today (probably about three), but I still think it needs to be stated, because some people I know are under the delusion that the mighty and terrible velociraptor would obey their will and do their bidding, when in fact it would kill them mercilessly. I don't actually know what to say about this one, because if you aren't already scared of the velociraptor (or the utahraptor, or really the whole raptor family) then there is nothing I can say to convince you. You are already lost.
5. Things reaching out from under a movie theater seat and grabbing my feet. I have a fear of anything grabbing my feet, but movie theaters especially bring this out in me. I think it is partially because it is almost a combination of fears. There are people in the movie theater, and disgustingly sticky floors, and a lot of the time, people being killed or chased on the screen
(I watch some pretty awesome rom-coms). It also doesn't help that, because of the unknown horror that is the movie theater floor, anything could be growing there, and therefore what grabs me might not even be human.
Sorry this is kind of short. I started making this list and started into real, boring to read about fears, so I cut myself off. So, there you have it. Five of the four million things I fear. Please don't show up at my house holding a bird and a squid.
Things I am "unreasonably" afraid of:
1. Birds. I am afraid of birds because they have eyes that look into your soul and learn all of your darkest secrets and fears. They also only hop when they are not flying. Hopping is an entirely unacceptable form of locomotion, which leads me to believe that they are evil hell-beasts, or that they are hiding something, most likely something terrible. I think birds know how the world will end--because they will engineer that end.
2. The Octopus. This is singular because octopus is a word with three accepted plurals, which is not a battle I am going to get into. I am also immediately suspicious of any word with more than one plural. It bodes ill. I am afraid of their tentacles, in part, but I have a far more all-encompassing fear. I am afraid of them because they are smart and can squish to be very small. They could fit under a door, and could most likely figure out how to work the lock--allowing their companions in this horrifying scenario, the velociraptor, entrance. If you say "That is totally unfeasible, they need to be underwater, your fears are weird", consider what weird things scientists are currently doing, and ask yourself, "Self, how long do you think it will be before someone figures out how to free all those horrifying sea creatures from their salty prison?" And your self will curl up in a corner of your brain and cry, because the bottom of the ocean is straight-up Lovecraft.
3. Squid. Squid are about as terrifying as the octopus, but in an entirely different way. First we have things like the Humboldt squid, which will attack you. Because it's fun. There is somewhere video from a camera that got attached to a Humboldt squid that was captured then sent back to its... squiderie. Its friends/family attacked and killed it. So, that is fun. Then, there is the giant squid, which lives at the bottom of the ocean. Point one against it. It also has some razor-bits in its tentacle suckers, so that is fun. I am also mistrustful of it because it implodes when it reaches sane pressures. It is too used to the pressure, and when it no longer has it, it burns out, much like an over-achieving high school student. Finally (as if I could ever finish the list of reasons I find squid terrifying), there is the colossal squid. People theorize that it is the Kraken. It is the size of a small island. And it does not need the pressure the giant squid does. Which is why, you know, people saw it, and subsequently went mad with fear, as any reasonable person would. It also has a far more horrifying tentacle-attachment, a hook-tooth that can rotate almost 360 degrees. I am never going swimming in the ocean.
4. Velociraptors. This is, I admit, a somewhat unreasonable fear, since there are very few velociraptors alive today (probably about three), but I still think it needs to be stated, because some people I know are under the delusion that the mighty and terrible velociraptor would obey their will and do their bidding, when in fact it would kill them mercilessly. I don't actually know what to say about this one, because if you aren't already scared of the velociraptor (or the utahraptor, or really the whole raptor family) then there is nothing I can say to convince you. You are already lost.
5. Things reaching out from under a movie theater seat and grabbing my feet. I have a fear of anything grabbing my feet, but movie theaters especially bring this out in me. I think it is partially because it is almost a combination of fears. There are people in the movie theater, and disgustingly sticky floors, and a lot of the time, people being killed or chased on the screen
(I watch some pretty awesome rom-coms). It also doesn't help that, because of the unknown horror that is the movie theater floor, anything could be growing there, and therefore what grabs me might not even be human.
Sorry this is kind of short. I started making this list and started into real, boring to read about fears, so I cut myself off. So, there you have it. Five of the four million things I fear. Please don't show up at my house holding a bird and a squid.
28 December 2010
Shopping for Clothes, and Why it is Always a Nightmare
The title was going to read : "Shopping for Clothes, and Why it is Always a Nightmarish Hell-beast of an Experience" but apparently that is too long.
Also, you might have a pleasant understanding of clothes shopping, or experience none of the inconveniences I do. If so, I think I might hate you.
1. There are always people. So many people. The only days I agree to go shopping for any great number of things (like, for instance, clothes) are days where I think "hey, it's a great day to go shopping, because there will be no people there." Those days are frequently days where everyone else has had the exact same thought and the stores are packed. Or, if they aren't, they feel like it, because this can't go well for you, no, never. It doesn't help, of course, that I have social anxiety and would be perfectly happy if I never had to leave my house ever. But, unfortunately, I have not yet reached this stage of my life. So I have to go out and face the world. Except the world always insists on being near me and touching me. I also hate it when strangers try to engage me in conversation. "But Winona," you might be saying, "haven't you ever had a great conversation with a stranger, and become friends? Isn't that a wonderful experience, filled with magic and cookie dough?" Fair enough, but let us consider statistics: about one in twenty-eight people is actually interesting. The other twenty-seven are the kind who, oh, you know, engage you in conversation when you're shopping for clothes, or paying for things at the counter. I dislike this.
2. Nothing fits, ever. I almost always go to thrift or consignment stores, so there is a point against me, but even in department stores or wherever else you can shop for clothes, I am still female. Being female means it is impossible to purchase clothes that fit well off the rack. It's like buying a suit, but with every article of clothing that isn't a scarf or a muumuu. Here is how trying on clothes goes: get piece of clothing in what you think is your size, talk to fitting room guard, pass diabolical test, go into fitting room, try on clothing, realize it is not your size, go out of fitting room, return clothing to guard, get same style in a size up or down, repeat fitting room process, discover it doesn't fit but in a new and exciting kind of way. The process is about compromises, apparently; do you want your pants to be too tight, or too long? And heaven help you if you go to a thrift store, because you can't even go up or down in sizes, and all of the different brands mean that you have to readjust your guess of your size every time you see a new label.
3. Clothing is really expensive. I am always shocked at how little my money will buy, whether I am buying clothing, books, food, or whatever else I buy (I don't buy a lot of things). This is because, while the individual articles of clothing are cheap (wow, a tee shirt for only five dollars!), you are frequently tricked by your brain into buying more than are actually cheap, or you need a lot of them (wow, twenty tee shirts for a hundred dollars!). This is partially because your brain, in one of the million ways it is trying to screw you over royally, doesn't understand price if the number is below a certain point. It's why all those iPod/iPhone/iPad apps are $0.99: it's, for most people, below the cost where they start questioning the purchase.
But anyway. You get only a few items of clothing for what is relatively a lot of money, and so not only have you spent $50 and five hours shopping, you have only three or four items to show for it, making the whole thing feel like a waste, but with the knowledge that it's not like you could have gone without buying clothes, because you have far fewer clothes than you need. It's even worse if you paid with a gift card.
4. The organization of every single store is flawed. I could organize everywhere far better than they have chosen to organize. If you have racks that are sorted by size, you should have half of the sizes be on one side of the store, with the other half all the way across at the other side. Without any signs or directions at all. It also doesn't make sense to have hats and gloves on one side, with coats and sweaters on the other. They should be near each other, at least a little. Also, shoes next to cookware? Weird. I think this is also part of the reason I find every single store to be horribly crowded. In an inefficient store-plan, traffic gets all congested and that's why you have riots. People really ought to talk to me before planning out their stores, because I would tell them all of the ways in which their plan is horrible and I hate it. Then all stores would be substantially better.
5. Fluorescent lights are simply awful. Part of my problem with fluorescent lights is that they are simply awful, as I have just said, because they make things different colors than they actually are, hum, and generally affect one's well-being. The other part is that they make everything so bright it makes me want to kill everything until it is a reasonable brightness again. Unfortunately, I am constrained from doing this by fear and also basic human morality. My existence, then, is tortured by this aching brightness. I am also horribly unused to fluorescent lights, because all of the lights in our house are incandescent lights [except for a few, irrelevant lights]. This means that the tortured existence brought about by the brightness is something to which I am not accustomed, and I therefore cannot deal with it well. Also, they give me a headache.
6. There is 'music' playing, threatening your sanity. It is not that I hate music. I love music. I just want music to be on my own terms, like socialization. Shopping removes both of these possibilities. If you go shopping at a hip little store, you will probably hear four thousand pop songs. The worst part of these is that you will be at home a week later, sitting and minding your own business, and you will begin singing these songs to yourself. You are again tortured, and you are not even shopping any more! It is also horrible when you go shopping between Thanksgiving and Christmas, because Christmas music is playing, non-stop. There are not that many songs in the genre, either, so if you are shopping for any length of time, you will hear every single Christmas song ever written. In every possible genre. When you have heard the metal version of Carol of the Bells, you are about ready to destroy everything. I can't even imagine working retail.
I have many more things that anger me about shopping, but I figure I will spare you because it will devolve into an uninteresting rant. I can't be very funny when I rant, sometimes. Sometimes I am hilarious. About shopping, I am not.
Also, you might have a pleasant understanding of clothes shopping, or experience none of the inconveniences I do. If so, I think I might hate you.
1. There are always people. So many people. The only days I agree to go shopping for any great number of things (like, for instance, clothes) are days where I think "hey, it's a great day to go shopping, because there will be no people there." Those days are frequently days where everyone else has had the exact same thought and the stores are packed. Or, if they aren't, they feel like it, because this can't go well for you, no, never. It doesn't help, of course, that I have social anxiety and would be perfectly happy if I never had to leave my house ever. But, unfortunately, I have not yet reached this stage of my life. So I have to go out and face the world. Except the world always insists on being near me and touching me. I also hate it when strangers try to engage me in conversation. "But Winona," you might be saying, "haven't you ever had a great conversation with a stranger, and become friends? Isn't that a wonderful experience, filled with magic and cookie dough?" Fair enough, but let us consider statistics: about one in twenty-eight people is actually interesting. The other twenty-seven are the kind who, oh, you know, engage you in conversation when you're shopping for clothes, or paying for things at the counter. I dislike this.
2. Nothing fits, ever. I almost always go to thrift or consignment stores, so there is a point against me, but even in department stores or wherever else you can shop for clothes, I am still female. Being female means it is impossible to purchase clothes that fit well off the rack. It's like buying a suit, but with every article of clothing that isn't a scarf or a muumuu. Here is how trying on clothes goes: get piece of clothing in what you think is your size, talk to fitting room guard, pass diabolical test, go into fitting room, try on clothing, realize it is not your size, go out of fitting room, return clothing to guard, get same style in a size up or down, repeat fitting room process, discover it doesn't fit but in a new and exciting kind of way. The process is about compromises, apparently; do you want your pants to be too tight, or too long? And heaven help you if you go to a thrift store, because you can't even go up or down in sizes, and all of the different brands mean that you have to readjust your guess of your size every time you see a new label.
3. Clothing is really expensive. I am always shocked at how little my money will buy, whether I am buying clothing, books, food, or whatever else I buy (I don't buy a lot of things). This is because, while the individual articles of clothing are cheap (wow, a tee shirt for only five dollars!), you are frequently tricked by your brain into buying more than are actually cheap, or you need a lot of them (wow, twenty tee shirts for a hundred dollars!). This is partially because your brain, in one of the million ways it is trying to screw you over royally, doesn't understand price if the number is below a certain point. It's why all those iPod/iPhone/iPad apps are $0.99: it's, for most people, below the cost where they start questioning the purchase.
But anyway. You get only a few items of clothing for what is relatively a lot of money, and so not only have you spent $50 and five hours shopping, you have only three or four items to show for it, making the whole thing feel like a waste, but with the knowledge that it's not like you could have gone without buying clothes, because you have far fewer clothes than you need. It's even worse if you paid with a gift card.
4. The organization of every single store is flawed. I could organize everywhere far better than they have chosen to organize. If you have racks that are sorted by size, you should have half of the sizes be on one side of the store, with the other half all the way across at the other side. Without any signs or directions at all. It also doesn't make sense to have hats and gloves on one side, with coats and sweaters on the other. They should be near each other, at least a little. Also, shoes next to cookware? Weird. I think this is also part of the reason I find every single store to be horribly crowded. In an inefficient store-plan, traffic gets all congested and that's why you have riots. People really ought to talk to me before planning out their stores, because I would tell them all of the ways in which their plan is horrible and I hate it. Then all stores would be substantially better.
5. Fluorescent lights are simply awful. Part of my problem with fluorescent lights is that they are simply awful, as I have just said, because they make things different colors than they actually are, hum, and generally affect one's well-being. The other part is that they make everything so bright it makes me want to kill everything until it is a reasonable brightness again. Unfortunately, I am constrained from doing this by fear and also basic human morality. My existence, then, is tortured by this aching brightness. I am also horribly unused to fluorescent lights, because all of the lights in our house are incandescent lights [except for a few, irrelevant lights]. This means that the tortured existence brought about by the brightness is something to which I am not accustomed, and I therefore cannot deal with it well. Also, they give me a headache.
6. There is 'music' playing, threatening your sanity. It is not that I hate music. I love music. I just want music to be on my own terms, like socialization. Shopping removes both of these possibilities. If you go shopping at a hip little store, you will probably hear four thousand pop songs. The worst part of these is that you will be at home a week later, sitting and minding your own business, and you will begin singing these songs to yourself. You are again tortured, and you are not even shopping any more! It is also horrible when you go shopping between Thanksgiving and Christmas, because Christmas music is playing, non-stop. There are not that many songs in the genre, either, so if you are shopping for any length of time, you will hear every single Christmas song ever written. In every possible genre. When you have heard the metal version of Carol of the Bells, you are about ready to destroy everything. I can't even imagine working retail.
I have many more things that anger me about shopping, but I figure I will spare you because it will devolve into an uninteresting rant. I can't be very funny when I rant, sometimes. Sometimes I am hilarious. About shopping, I am not.
27 December 2010
Lord Byron, the Most Awesome of All Who Are Excellent
I have an unnatural obsession with Lord Byron.
Sorry if you have seen this list before; one of the characteristics of my obsessions is that I do not care how many times I repeat the same information because I have decided that everyone ever must know what I do.
(Some of) the reasons for Lord Byron's excellence:
1. A web-comic post that is hilarious. I was reading the archives of Hark, a vagrant! which is an excellent web-comic, when I came across this:
[I was going to put up a picture but then I realized that people might get angry at me and I really don't want to do that. It would have been for convenience but I don't want them to think I was STEALING. So here is a link: click this for magic][also this comic might offend you but I hope it doesn't]
This has most likely influenced my opinion of Lord Byron in ways that no one can ever imagine. But everything I have learned since I read this has only served to confirm this opinion.
2. The poem he sent to his wife. When his wife sent him divorce papers, he responded with a poem. It is pretty excellent. Here it is:
Remember thee! remember thee!
Till Lethe quench life's burning stream
Remorse and shame shall cling to thee,
And haunt thee like a feverish dream!
Remember thee! Aye, doubt it not.
Thy husband too shall think of thee:
By neither shalt thou be forgot,
Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
So there is that.
3. He was awful, and clever, two things which can endear me to a person indefinitely. One of his lovers stopped eating after he left her. He said TO HER MOTHER that he was being "haunted by a skeleton." What a classy bastard!
4. The circumstances of his death. During the war for Greek independence, he volunteered and went to help out, and died while he was there. But not by fighting, no! He was on a yacht. Drinking and probably pursuing many ladies (and men, too? I am guessing, but I am probably right). Wikipedia said that he contracted a fever, but I like to think that it was a fever from too much partying.
The reason I like Lord Byron so much is that he seems like he would be an awesome person to hang out with if you had never slept with him.
Also please don't fact check this post because I found out that a lot of the things that I have said are not entirely accurate but the truth is marginally less awesome and I am too lazy to fix anything. Or basically, Lord Byron is so awesome that some of the things I have written are accidentally made up, but that doesn't affect his awesomeness at all because he is still terribly excellent.
Sorry if you have seen this list before; one of the characteristics of my obsessions is that I do not care how many times I repeat the same information because I have decided that everyone ever must know what I do.
(Some of) the reasons for Lord Byron's excellence:
1. A web-comic post that is hilarious. I was reading the archives of Hark, a vagrant! which is an excellent web-comic, when I came across this:
[I was going to put up a picture but then I realized that people might get angry at me and I really don't want to do that. It would have been for convenience but I don't want them to think I was STEALING. So here is a link: click this for magic][also this comic might offend you but I hope it doesn't]
This has most likely influenced my opinion of Lord Byron in ways that no one can ever imagine. But everything I have learned since I read this has only served to confirm this opinion.
2. The poem he sent to his wife. When his wife sent him divorce papers, he responded with a poem. It is pretty excellent. Here it is:
Remember thee! remember thee!
Till Lethe quench life's burning stream
Remorse and shame shall cling to thee,
And haunt thee like a feverish dream!
Remember thee! Aye, doubt it not.
Thy husband too shall think of thee:
By neither shalt thou be forgot,
Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
So there is that.
3. He was awful, and clever, two things which can endear me to a person indefinitely. One of his lovers stopped eating after he left her. He said TO HER MOTHER that he was being "haunted by a skeleton." What a classy bastard!
4. The circumstances of his death. During the war for Greek independence, he volunteered and went to help out, and died while he was there. But not by fighting, no! He was on a yacht. Drinking and probably pursuing many ladies (and men, too? I am guessing, but I am probably right). Wikipedia said that he contracted a fever, but I like to think that it was a fever from too much partying.
The reason I like Lord Byron so much is that he seems like he would be an awesome person to hang out with if you had never slept with him.
Also please don't fact check this post because I found out that a lot of the things that I have said are not entirely accurate but the truth is marginally less awesome and I am too lazy to fix anything. Or basically, Lord Byron is so awesome that some of the things I have written are accidentally made up, but that doesn't affect his awesomeness at all because he is still terribly excellent.
26 December 2010
Something That is Weird
Earlier I was trying to put on my slippers and I discovered that I have a very strange problem.
[this is a dramatic pause]
I cannot figure out which is my right foot (or hand) and which is my left if I can't see them.
This is actually a kind of dumb problem, which I realized as I was typing it out.
I realized this because I WAS going to type: but I have no problem stepping into my slippers, I just can't put them on when I'm lying on my stomach on my bed.
Well, obviously I have no trouble stepping into my slippers; when I'm standing right and left are very clearly defined unless my legs are crossed. And I generally notice that.
So I have another problem, one possibly more serious.
I am incapable of realizing that my problems are really stupid until I start explaining them.
If I had been talking to you, I would have said the incredibly dumb sentence that you were only spared from because of the backspace key, and you would have laughed at me. And now you will laugh at me anyway, so I have embarrassed myself, and to no real avail at all.
A reasonable person would scrap this blog post entirely, but apparently I am not reasonable because you are reading this right now.
That might be my root problem:
That I am an unreasonable, ridiculous person.
Unfortunately, though it is my root problem, it is also the root of my excellence.
The dilemmas I face. (Also look at how correctly I spelled dilemma, even though it feels weird to spell it that way.)
[this is a dramatic pause]
I cannot figure out which is my right foot (or hand) and which is my left if I can't see them.
This is actually a kind of dumb problem, which I realized as I was typing it out.
I realized this because I WAS going to type: but I have no problem stepping into my slippers, I just can't put them on when I'm lying on my stomach on my bed.
Well, obviously I have no trouble stepping into my slippers; when I'm standing right and left are very clearly defined unless my legs are crossed. And I generally notice that.
So I have another problem, one possibly more serious.
I am incapable of realizing that my problems are really stupid until I start explaining them.
If I had been talking to you, I would have said the incredibly dumb sentence that you were only spared from because of the backspace key, and you would have laughed at me. And now you will laugh at me anyway, so I have embarrassed myself, and to no real avail at all.
A reasonable person would scrap this blog post entirely, but apparently I am not reasonable because you are reading this right now.
That might be my root problem:
That I am an unreasonable, ridiculous person.
Unfortunately, though it is my root problem, it is also the root of my excellence.
The dilemmas I face. (Also look at how correctly I spelled dilemma, even though it feels weird to spell it that way.)
I am the Best Person to Have With You During the Zombie Apocalypse, An Attempt at Self-Preservation
The title is definitely something of a lie, but I do have a lot of good qualities, qualities that will be useful in the event of a zombie apocalypse.
1. I have done a lot of planning and research. I know what to do, and know what I will do. I think I am in the top ten percent of zombie researchers. You will probably laugh at me, like everyone else did when I talked about how I had been researching squid for three years (which I have), but I am serious. I know a lot about zombies. I have made countless, necessarily flawed (I am human, after all) plans about what to do in case of zombies. I also have plans for robots, octopods/giant squid, and flash floods. I plan things out a lot. Actually, that too: I am really good at making plans.
2. I am actually really good at solving problems creatively with minimal resources. My mother contests this. I pointed out that just because I am good at something, doesn't mean that I actually do that thing all the time. But, really, I am very good at this. I solve all sorts of problems very creatively in my head, and all they need is a bit of mechanical tweaking in order to work (which I can also handle, I am pretty sure). So, there is that.
3. I am a fast reader, and remember a lot of things. This probably sounds like a weird thing to list, but imagine we came across a medical textbook. Two hours with that, I now know a whole bunch of stuff, and will for the foreseeable future. Somewhat relatedly, I would also be good to have around when we start to rebuild civilization.
4. I am really very lazy. This may sound like a weird qualification, especially since I think I included it on my list of faults, but hear me out. Imagine, if you will, that you have already decided that I will be a member of your group of survivors, and an opportunity comes across for me to betray you. If it were one of the many times where I was being a rational human being, I would consider simply how much work surviving on my own would be, and how much work being accepted into another group would be. So, my laziness could be a source of intense loyalty, though also of course a source of being too lazy to help out. But, I guess, just threaten to kick me out, or remind me of how much work being on my own would be.
5. I am very selfish. Again, this probably sounds weird, but it means that I really would like to stay alive. I have given a lot of thought to it, and I think I would be entirely capable of beating someone to death if my life depended on it. This may sound like a weird thing to say (similar to asking someone how long you should wait before eating them in the event of being stranded), but I know there are some people who would be stopped by the fact that zombies once used to be human. I am very attached to life. Also, if I thought my action would get me kicked out of the group (which would basically be death), I would be very wary of crossing anyone in the group.
6. I am good at telling people what to do. I take charge of most situations I am in, if I see that no one else has, and very few people question my right to do so. I do this all of the time, sometimes much to the annoyance of whomever was nominally in charge. This might not be a real selling point, if you already have an intrepid leader, but I assure you, if your leader is adequate, I wouldn't take over their job, because I am not a usurper, just a power-vacuum-filler. And I am good at it. And the orders I would give would actually make sense, not be stupid, selfish things. So if I had to be your leader, you wouldn't die, I promise.
7. I basically hate everyone, so the zombie apocalypse is like a dream come true. As is, my boundless rage and hatred of all other human persons is impotent, and channeled into snarky remarks and general social avoidance. However, when I am allowed to attack humanoid creatures, and they will most likely be people I once knew, or had seen in passing (because I doubt I would manage to go far), and therefore in theory hate (the way in which I hate others is very complicated and tricky to explain and the last time I explained it I was tricked so I don't want to explain it to you guys in case you trick me, so maybe I will do that later if I can figure out how to not get tricked), I could be a very valuable fighter. I also would be unlikely to distract you from zombie survival missions by trying to become your friend or lover because your existence would probably, through no fault of your own (most likely, but you might have something wrong with you), repulse me. So I would have a one-track mind, and that track would be zombies and how to kill them.
8. I am clever, and also funny. I could be comic relief! And also make fun of people from other groups (or other people in the same group), and we could bond over how fun it is to make fun of people. It's always good to remember stuff like that in stressful situations, especially situations where you might die because your sister is now undead and trying to eat you and you are displaying human weakness by trusting an obviously zombified sibling. In situations like those, it's good to remember that there are a lot of ways to call someone's intelligence into question, because at least you can die laughing.
As you now can see, I am a much more valuable resource in the event of apocalypse than my list of faults may suggest, and I hope that you neither refuse to let me join your survivor group, complete with custom jackets, nor shoot me to put me out of my (probable future) misery at being supposedly incapable of handling an apocalypse or post-apocalypse.
Also, I have almost exhausted my ability to write about zombies, so you don't get a million more posts about zombies, but some about something else I haven't thought of yet. Maybe books, like I promised, or something historical. I'll probably talk about Lord Byron, because he is my favorite.
1. I have done a lot of planning and research. I know what to do, and know what I will do. I think I am in the top ten percent of zombie researchers. You will probably laugh at me, like everyone else did when I talked about how I had been researching squid for three years (which I have), but I am serious. I know a lot about zombies. I have made countless, necessarily flawed (I am human, after all) plans about what to do in case of zombies. I also have plans for robots, octopods/giant squid, and flash floods. I plan things out a lot. Actually, that too: I am really good at making plans.
2. I am actually really good at solving problems creatively with minimal resources. My mother contests this. I pointed out that just because I am good at something, doesn't mean that I actually do that thing all the time. But, really, I am very good at this. I solve all sorts of problems very creatively in my head, and all they need is a bit of mechanical tweaking in order to work (which I can also handle, I am pretty sure). So, there is that.
3. I am a fast reader, and remember a lot of things. This probably sounds like a weird thing to list, but imagine we came across a medical textbook. Two hours with that, I now know a whole bunch of stuff, and will for the foreseeable future. Somewhat relatedly, I would also be good to have around when we start to rebuild civilization.
4. I am really very lazy. This may sound like a weird qualification, especially since I think I included it on my list of faults, but hear me out. Imagine, if you will, that you have already decided that I will be a member of your group of survivors, and an opportunity comes across for me to betray you. If it were one of the many times where I was being a rational human being, I would consider simply how much work surviving on my own would be, and how much work being accepted into another group would be. So, my laziness could be a source of intense loyalty, though also of course a source of being too lazy to help out. But, I guess, just threaten to kick me out, or remind me of how much work being on my own would be.
5. I am very selfish. Again, this probably sounds weird, but it means that I really would like to stay alive. I have given a lot of thought to it, and I think I would be entirely capable of beating someone to death if my life depended on it. This may sound like a weird thing to say (similar to asking someone how long you should wait before eating them in the event of being stranded), but I know there are some people who would be stopped by the fact that zombies once used to be human. I am very attached to life. Also, if I thought my action would get me kicked out of the group (which would basically be death), I would be very wary of crossing anyone in the group.
6. I am good at telling people what to do. I take charge of most situations I am in, if I see that no one else has, and very few people question my right to do so. I do this all of the time, sometimes much to the annoyance of whomever was nominally in charge. This might not be a real selling point, if you already have an intrepid leader, but I assure you, if your leader is adequate, I wouldn't take over their job, because I am not a usurper, just a power-vacuum-filler. And I am good at it. And the orders I would give would actually make sense, not be stupid, selfish things. So if I had to be your leader, you wouldn't die, I promise.
7. I basically hate everyone, so the zombie apocalypse is like a dream come true. As is, my boundless rage and hatred of all other human persons is impotent, and channeled into snarky remarks and general social avoidance. However, when I am allowed to attack humanoid creatures, and they will most likely be people I once knew, or had seen in passing (because I doubt I would manage to go far), and therefore in theory hate (the way in which I hate others is very complicated and tricky to explain and the last time I explained it I was tricked so I don't want to explain it to you guys in case you trick me, so maybe I will do that later if I can figure out how to not get tricked), I could be a very valuable fighter. I also would be unlikely to distract you from zombie survival missions by trying to become your friend or lover because your existence would probably, through no fault of your own (most likely, but you might have something wrong with you), repulse me. So I would have a one-track mind, and that track would be zombies and how to kill them.
8. I am clever, and also funny. I could be comic relief! And also make fun of people from other groups (or other people in the same group), and we could bond over how fun it is to make fun of people. It's always good to remember stuff like that in stressful situations, especially situations where you might die because your sister is now undead and trying to eat you and you are displaying human weakness by trusting an obviously zombified sibling. In situations like those, it's good to remember that there are a lot of ways to call someone's intelligence into question, because at least you can die laughing.
As you now can see, I am a much more valuable resource in the event of apocalypse than my list of faults may suggest, and I hope that you neither refuse to let me join your survivor group, complete with custom jackets, nor shoot me to put me out of my (probable future) misery at being supposedly incapable of handling an apocalypse or post-apocalypse.
Also, I have almost exhausted my ability to write about zombies, so you don't get a million more posts about zombies, but some about something else I haven't thought of yet. Maybe books, like I promised, or something historical. I'll probably talk about Lord Byron, because he is my favorite.
25 December 2010
I am Woefully Underprepared for the Zombie Apocalypse, Part Two
As promised (not implicitly), here is the second part of my zombie apocalypse considerations.
Things that are wrong with me (that make me unfit for my plan, and for a post-apocalyptic world at all):
1. I have asthma. I also don't have an inhaler. I use Benadryl, instead, which doesn't work in quite the same way. But anyway, this means that, although I actually enjoy running, I am largely unable to run for any length of time without my breathing-parts constricting. So, that is unpleasant, and also the number one thing for a reason. I think running, especially running with weight, would be a very necessary skill during the zombie apocalypse.
2. I am not a reliable person. A few days ago, I was falling asleep and heard some noises like something was trying to get into our trash cans. It was late, so everyone else was already asleep. My brain all of a sudden, in its perfectly logical conclusion voice, said "Hey. Maybe that's a raccoon. I bet that's a raccoon. There is definitely a raccoon in your house." So I got out of bed, walked out into the hallway, looked into our kitchen, then realized I had no desire to deal with a raccoon and went back to bed under the logic that if it was a raccoon, other people could deal with it. Now imagine the raccoon (which was not real) was a zombie (which could be very real). All of my family would be dead by now.
3. I have never been in a situation that has enabled me to discover the effects of adrenaline on my strength and thinking capabilities. I think the closest might be the time I went rock-climbing, and my arms turned to noodles. Then again, another adrenaline-filled time, I ran very fast for some distance. So that might be a toss-up. I just think the level of uncertainty present in my assessment of my own abilities is not a selling point. (Possible selling points in a later post, probably, because I think I do have some things to offer during this crisis.)
4. I am reliant on other people for my existence now. I do not drive, I do not have enough money to live on my own, I can barely cook food. I am really good at making coffee and following basic instructions, though, which has to count for something. But honestly, there have been times where I have forgotten, I mean genuinely forgotten, to eat for several days. I really am not as self-sufficient as I like to think I am. This is why I need to become someone who has something to offer to a group if I want to even begin thinking about surviving this particular apocalypse.
5. I am scared by horror movies, even dumb ones. I did not sleep for two days after watching The Grudge. That movie was, by any objective standard, absolutely awful, and should not have scared anyone. It scared me, terribly. If I am that scared by imaginary threats, I cannot even begin to fathom how scared I would be by the thought that the only thing keeping me safe from thousands upon thousands of brain-hungry monsters is about two feet of plywood and the capabilities of whoever is on guard that night. Then again, unlike weird Japanese ghosts or demons or haunted ventriloquy dummies (The Grudge, Paranormal Activity, Dead Silence, incidentally), zombies are something that I can totally dominate with a gun, or spiked bat, or crowbar, or basically anything. They are dumb, and corporeal; they can be fought against.
6. I have never shot a gun. This is not technically true, because I think I shot a gun when I was six. That does not count, though. I have had no real practice shooting a gun, or loading one, or cleaning one, or even carrying one. These are all of at least some importance in an apocalypse where survival is so dependent on head-shots (at least the first three). I do know how to hold a gun, so I am not entirely useless. I like to think that a lot more time at a shooting range should be... tolerable preparation. I can't offer myself as someone of any real shooting importance, but I won't be that squealy, useless girl. I loathe her.
7. I do not know what is required to survive for any period of time in the wilderness. I would have no idea what to pack. I imagine: shelter of some form, something to help retain heat, water purification tablets, first aid (gauze, rubbing alcohol, medical tape, splints), and... beyond that I honestly have no idea. Fire stuff? What do you need for fire? I seriously am lost here. I hate how reliant I am. It's because I have steadfastly hated camping all of my life. I never thought it would be useful to know this kind of thing...
8. I have a drug dependency (read: caffeine). While this is definitely not as serious as, say, a heroin addiction, it still is a bit of a hurdle. I will have a killer headache for about two, two and a half days. But, I would say this is one of the more minor problems, especially considering that I have a killer headache pretty much all of the time (much to my annoyance. I don't even have a super-power to compensate for it!)
9. Quantities confuse me. This is bad when dealing with, say, rations, ammunition, other supplies, and anything ever. I can deal with things when they are strictly numbers, and when they are strictly physical items. When I have to deal with numbers that correspond to physical items (but they aren't physical items directly in front of me) I get, well, really confused. It also doesn't help that with something like ammunition, I would have to take into account specialties as well--someone good at shooting gets an as-yet undetermined amount more, whereas someone next to useless with a gun gets some amount less, and the proverbial squealy girl gets none, ever. That is too much applied math for me, honestly.
10. I am frequently illogical. Read the raccoon story in 2 again. Nothing that I did made sense. How would a raccoon have gotten into my house? I don't know, all I know is I want to go to sleep. What would lead me to believe I could best a raccoon, with my bare hands? Absolutely no experience to date should give me that impression. I like to think I would be a little more logical when there was more at stake, but I honestly cannot guarantee that with any surety. (see 3)
11. I am one minor illness or two nights of sleep deprivation away from being entirely useless. This I know from basic experience. I also know that the stress of paper-writing, where nothing really depends on my functioning but my future college choice, is enough, combined with a lack of sleep, to cause me to panic and, occasionally, break down. I cannot imagine what the stress of zombies would do to me. I wonder if I could mask my total lack of self-control if I had to. Probably not, but maybe. I have no idea how to test this idea, either.
12. I am extremely selfish. If you remember my zombie plan from yesterday, you will recall that part of it relies on my sister screaming for help as zombies eat her brains. This is my sister I am talking about, but I am perfectly willing (on paper) to sacrifice her and use her as an alarm clock telling me it is go time. I cannot say that I would not, at the first opportunity, sell everyone else out if it got me even the slightest edge, if I am willing to sacrifice my sister so readily. I am a horrible, horrible person. A bit ironic (or extremely fitting) that I would require a group in order to survive, but am incapable of functioning within a group with any shred of humanity.
13. I am also very lazy. I do not know to what lengths I am willing to go to to stay alive (because it has never come up), and when I will say "this is too hard, I give up." While this is... tolerable when one is alone, it is not a good trait to have in a group. My laziness also means that I probably will not go through a lot of preparation to protect myself in the event of the zombie apocalypse. I might not even get up at the sound of the go time alarm clock (that feels a lot less horrible to type than "at the sound of my sister dying painfully") and just die then and there--knowing that I am my family's best chance of survival, because I have been PLANNING (flawed though my plan may be). See? Doubly horrible.
I think I should also make a list of ways in which I am SO READY for the zombie apocalypse and would be an excellent addition to any team of zombie-killers. Because I do have some traits that are very useful. I will also, in all likelihood, make a list of what is wrong with absolutely everyone else, because I am a misanthrope.
Things that are wrong with me (that make me unfit for my plan, and for a post-apocalyptic world at all):
1. I have asthma. I also don't have an inhaler. I use Benadryl, instead, which doesn't work in quite the same way. But anyway, this means that, although I actually enjoy running, I am largely unable to run for any length of time without my breathing-parts constricting. So, that is unpleasant, and also the number one thing for a reason. I think running, especially running with weight, would be a very necessary skill during the zombie apocalypse.
2. I am not a reliable person. A few days ago, I was falling asleep and heard some noises like something was trying to get into our trash cans. It was late, so everyone else was already asleep. My brain all of a sudden, in its perfectly logical conclusion voice, said "Hey. Maybe that's a raccoon. I bet that's a raccoon. There is definitely a raccoon in your house." So I got out of bed, walked out into the hallway, looked into our kitchen, then realized I had no desire to deal with a raccoon and went back to bed under the logic that if it was a raccoon, other people could deal with it. Now imagine the raccoon (which was not real) was a zombie (which could be very real). All of my family would be dead by now.
3. I have never been in a situation that has enabled me to discover the effects of adrenaline on my strength and thinking capabilities. I think the closest might be the time I went rock-climbing, and my arms turned to noodles. Then again, another adrenaline-filled time, I ran very fast for some distance. So that might be a toss-up. I just think the level of uncertainty present in my assessment of my own abilities is not a selling point. (Possible selling points in a later post, probably, because I think I do have some things to offer during this crisis.)
4. I am reliant on other people for my existence now. I do not drive, I do not have enough money to live on my own, I can barely cook food. I am really good at making coffee and following basic instructions, though, which has to count for something. But honestly, there have been times where I have forgotten, I mean genuinely forgotten, to eat for several days. I really am not as self-sufficient as I like to think I am. This is why I need to become someone who has something to offer to a group if I want to even begin thinking about surviving this particular apocalypse.
5. I am scared by horror movies, even dumb ones. I did not sleep for two days after watching The Grudge. That movie was, by any objective standard, absolutely awful, and should not have scared anyone. It scared me, terribly. If I am that scared by imaginary threats, I cannot even begin to fathom how scared I would be by the thought that the only thing keeping me safe from thousands upon thousands of brain-hungry monsters is about two feet of plywood and the capabilities of whoever is on guard that night. Then again, unlike weird Japanese ghosts or demons or haunted ventriloquy dummies (The Grudge, Paranormal Activity, Dead Silence, incidentally), zombies are something that I can totally dominate with a gun, or spiked bat, or crowbar, or basically anything. They are dumb, and corporeal; they can be fought against.
6. I have never shot a gun. This is not technically true, because I think I shot a gun when I was six. That does not count, though. I have had no real practice shooting a gun, or loading one, or cleaning one, or even carrying one. These are all of at least some importance in an apocalypse where survival is so dependent on head-shots (at least the first three). I do know how to hold a gun, so I am not entirely useless. I like to think that a lot more time at a shooting range should be... tolerable preparation. I can't offer myself as someone of any real shooting importance, but I won't be that squealy, useless girl. I loathe her.
7. I do not know what is required to survive for any period of time in the wilderness. I would have no idea what to pack. I imagine: shelter of some form, something to help retain heat, water purification tablets, first aid (gauze, rubbing alcohol, medical tape, splints), and... beyond that I honestly have no idea. Fire stuff? What do you need for fire? I seriously am lost here. I hate how reliant I am. It's because I have steadfastly hated camping all of my life. I never thought it would be useful to know this kind of thing...
8. I have a drug dependency (read: caffeine). While this is definitely not as serious as, say, a heroin addiction, it still is a bit of a hurdle. I will have a killer headache for about two, two and a half days. But, I would say this is one of the more minor problems, especially considering that I have a killer headache pretty much all of the time (much to my annoyance. I don't even have a super-power to compensate for it!)
9. Quantities confuse me. This is bad when dealing with, say, rations, ammunition, other supplies, and anything ever. I can deal with things when they are strictly numbers, and when they are strictly physical items. When I have to deal with numbers that correspond to physical items (but they aren't physical items directly in front of me) I get, well, really confused. It also doesn't help that with something like ammunition, I would have to take into account specialties as well--someone good at shooting gets an as-yet undetermined amount more, whereas someone next to useless with a gun gets some amount less, and the proverbial squealy girl gets none, ever. That is too much applied math for me, honestly.
10. I am frequently illogical. Read the raccoon story in 2 again. Nothing that I did made sense. How would a raccoon have gotten into my house? I don't know, all I know is I want to go to sleep. What would lead me to believe I could best a raccoon, with my bare hands? Absolutely no experience to date should give me that impression. I like to think I would be a little more logical when there was more at stake, but I honestly cannot guarantee that with any surety. (see 3)
11. I am one minor illness or two nights of sleep deprivation away from being entirely useless. This I know from basic experience. I also know that the stress of paper-writing, where nothing really depends on my functioning but my future college choice, is enough, combined with a lack of sleep, to cause me to panic and, occasionally, break down. I cannot imagine what the stress of zombies would do to me. I wonder if I could mask my total lack of self-control if I had to. Probably not, but maybe. I have no idea how to test this idea, either.
12. I am extremely selfish. If you remember my zombie plan from yesterday, you will recall that part of it relies on my sister screaming for help as zombies eat her brains. This is my sister I am talking about, but I am perfectly willing (on paper) to sacrifice her and use her as an alarm clock telling me it is go time. I cannot say that I would not, at the first opportunity, sell everyone else out if it got me even the slightest edge, if I am willing to sacrifice my sister so readily. I am a horrible, horrible person. A bit ironic (or extremely fitting) that I would require a group in order to survive, but am incapable of functioning within a group with any shred of humanity.
13. I am also very lazy. I do not know to what lengths I am willing to go to to stay alive (because it has never come up), and when I will say "this is too hard, I give up." While this is... tolerable when one is alone, it is not a good trait to have in a group. My laziness also means that I probably will not go through a lot of preparation to protect myself in the event of the zombie apocalypse. I might not even get up at the sound of the go time alarm clock (that feels a lot less horrible to type than "at the sound of my sister dying painfully") and just die then and there--knowing that I am my family's best chance of survival, because I have been PLANNING (flawed though my plan may be). See? Doubly horrible.
I think I should also make a list of ways in which I am SO READY for the zombie apocalypse and would be an excellent addition to any team of zombie-killers. Because I do have some traits that are very useful. I will also, in all likelihood, make a list of what is wrong with absolutely everyone else, because I am a misanthrope.
24 December 2010
I am Woefully Underprepared for the Zombie Apocalypse, Part One.
As implicitly promised, I will do a post concerning my current inability to deal with a zombie apocalypse. Actually, two posts, or more. Thinking about it, I realized that there was a lot more standing between me and zombie-killing excellence than I originally believed. So this first post will be "things that are wrong with my zombie preparedness plan", and the second one will be "things that are wrong with me (as related to my flawed plan, and also to any post-apocalyptic world)". After those, there may be a need for more parts, such as "more things wrong with my plan", "more things wrong with me", "things that are wrong with other people", "more things wrong with other people" or "things that are wrong with zombies". Who knows. This is a landscape full of possibility.
Things that are wrong with my zombie preparedness plan:
1. I have planned on one specific, scientifically-impossible zombie type. I think most people are guilty of this. It is entirely understandable, because they are really the only zombies that are easy to plan for, and can imagine yourself fighting. I am referring, of course, to the "slow" zombie, à la Romero et al (check that out, two foreign language phrases). This is a zombie that is, well, slow, and therefore one that can be taken out from a distance, or can be prepared for with even the slightest bit of notice. Living in a largely flat area, I have a ready-made plan for this type of zombie. However, I have failed to seriously consider the "fast" zombie (28 Days Later, et al). This is a zombie created by some weird ebola-type virus, or really any kind of virus it doesn't matter, all you know is that they are undead, blood-thirsty, and FAST. And, I don't remember, but possibly smarter than regular zombies too. They are also more plausible because of SCIENCE and they do not rely on magic like regular zombies. It has been a while since I have seen Resident Evil, but I think they might be an exception (i.e. virusy slow zombies). Whatever. Point is, if there are any zombies besides the slow ones, my plan is almost entirely useless.
2. My plan relies heavily on the gun safe by our kitchen. This is not entirely a bad idea, because there are a lot of guns in there, with... sufficient ammo, I think, I don't really know. However, I do not know the combination to the safe, and it seems really inefficient to run across the house to my parents' room to find out the combination, then run back to open it up. Especially since I KNOW that they will not take me as seriously as they really should. Their disbelief in the very real zombies currently eating all brains ever is going to kill me and it is going to be all their fault. I bet they will feel really bad for the last few minutes of their life. My last words will be "I TOLD you. What now?!"
3. I have planned on zombies from one (admittedly most likely) direction. This direction is south. This is not unreasonable, since that is the direction that the closest cemetery is in. (see also: point 1) I think my plan for waking up is the knowledge that my sister's room is south of my room. And therefore, she will be screaming, and wake me up. Sacrifice to preserve the greater number, and all that. If zombies come from any other direction, especially west (my parents' room) or north (my room!), I have no idea what I would do. I can guarantee that if what wakes me up is zombies hammering on my window, I will not get out of bed, and will sit there crying until I die of brain loss. Or, unlikely, I will run very fast until I have a gun and then BANG. But more on that tomorrow.
4. I have very few weapons or possible weapons in my room. The only real options available to me are mêlée weapons, which are terribly impractical for fighting the undead (especially if it is a virus, see point 1, again). Even then, I think I have maybe two books heavy enough to be properly considered weapons, and... I can't think of anything beyond that. I might be able to hit them with a chair, the end table, or my typewriter or something (as if I would break my typewriter like that). But. These are all difficult to get, and rely on upper body strength that I am not sure I would have in a crisis (more on this tomorrow); I am entirely unsure of the effects of adrenaline on me personally. This is a dangerous thing to not know.
5. I have not planned the step between "fending off the initial onslaught of rural zombies" and "getting to a place with sufficient food to survive long enough to solve the problem". My family does not have enough supplies to survive in our house for any length of time--I think. I am really not at all sure, because I really don't know how much food and water is needed per length of time (I know http://lds.org has a calculator that will work out food storage amounts, but those are just numbers to me, and totally incomprehensible). We very well might be able to live in our house for years, sniping the various rural zombies. Maybe not. I have also not really planned on where to go. We live half an hour from civilization in all directions, so we have some options. It seems silly to go into a town, where I guarantee everyone will have been far less calm than I have (and I am not terribly calm), only to have to fix the mess everyone else has made. Maybe we could visit some crazy mountain man--there HAVE to be some crazy mountain men nearby.
6. My family does not own a car capable of (easily) driving over corpses. This is a matter of basic transport. Especially considering how far we may or may not have to travel, our minivan and weird little... sedan? look all the more ridiculous and impractical. I really think we ought to consider purchasing a Jeep or similar car with 4-wheel capabilities. Except not a Jeep, because those are open and that is just asking for zombie death. But still, something that would have no problem going over any terrain: snow, rocky, street, broken street (because, panic, you know), corpse, mud, etc. But I doubt my parents will find this an adequate reason to get a new car--how little they know!
7. I am (hopefully) leaving in about 8 months to go to university, and my plan will be basically useless. My plan, like basically everyone else's, is based largely around where I am currently living. When I move, I will have to redo my entire plan, based on dorm position, transportation capabilities, capable classmates, natural defenses of the campus, easily defensible buildings--the list goes on and on. Hopefully I am roomed with someone who shares my totally justified fear and who will help me create a new plan. Otherwise, I have a very busy first semester ahead of me.
8. I do not have a zombie-killing soundtrack. This may seem very trivial, but I assure you, having the right songs to give you a fighting rhythm, calm your tense nerves, or provide motivation in the face of almost insurmountable odds is a very necessary thing indeed. This is, of course, the easiest of all of my problems to fix (except I don't have an mp3 player that works, or the wherewithal to pirate the songs I need--as if Internet crime will matter after ZOMBIES.)
Those are all I can think of right now, but they are all very serious problems. Tomorrow I will present part two: problems with me.
Things that are wrong with my zombie preparedness plan:
1. I have planned on one specific, scientifically-impossible zombie type. I think most people are guilty of this. It is entirely understandable, because they are really the only zombies that are easy to plan for, and can imagine yourself fighting. I am referring, of course, to the "slow" zombie, à la Romero et al (check that out, two foreign language phrases). This is a zombie that is, well, slow, and therefore one that can be taken out from a distance, or can be prepared for with even the slightest bit of notice. Living in a largely flat area, I have a ready-made plan for this type of zombie. However, I have failed to seriously consider the "fast" zombie (28 Days Later, et al). This is a zombie created by some weird ebola-type virus, or really any kind of virus it doesn't matter, all you know is that they are undead, blood-thirsty, and FAST. And, I don't remember, but possibly smarter than regular zombies too. They are also more plausible because of SCIENCE and they do not rely on magic like regular zombies. It has been a while since I have seen Resident Evil, but I think they might be an exception (i.e. virusy slow zombies). Whatever. Point is, if there are any zombies besides the slow ones, my plan is almost entirely useless.
2. My plan relies heavily on the gun safe by our kitchen. This is not entirely a bad idea, because there are a lot of guns in there, with... sufficient ammo, I think, I don't really know. However, I do not know the combination to the safe, and it seems really inefficient to run across the house to my parents' room to find out the combination, then run back to open it up. Especially since I KNOW that they will not take me as seriously as they really should. Their disbelief in the very real zombies currently eating all brains ever is going to kill me and it is going to be all their fault. I bet they will feel really bad for the last few minutes of their life. My last words will be "I TOLD you. What now?!"
3. I have planned on zombies from one (admittedly most likely) direction. This direction is south. This is not unreasonable, since that is the direction that the closest cemetery is in. (see also: point 1) I think my plan for waking up is the knowledge that my sister's room is south of my room. And therefore, she will be screaming, and wake me up. Sacrifice to preserve the greater number, and all that. If zombies come from any other direction, especially west (my parents' room) or north (my room!), I have no idea what I would do. I can guarantee that if what wakes me up is zombies hammering on my window, I will not get out of bed, and will sit there crying until I die of brain loss. Or, unlikely, I will run very fast until I have a gun and then BANG. But more on that tomorrow.
4. I have very few weapons or possible weapons in my room. The only real options available to me are mêlée weapons, which are terribly impractical for fighting the undead (especially if it is a virus, see point 1, again). Even then, I think I have maybe two books heavy enough to be properly considered weapons, and... I can't think of anything beyond that. I might be able to hit them with a chair, the end table, or my typewriter or something (as if I would break my typewriter like that). But. These are all difficult to get, and rely on upper body strength that I am not sure I would have in a crisis (more on this tomorrow); I am entirely unsure of the effects of adrenaline on me personally. This is a dangerous thing to not know.
5. I have not planned the step between "fending off the initial onslaught of rural zombies" and "getting to a place with sufficient food to survive long enough to solve the problem". My family does not have enough supplies to survive in our house for any length of time--I think. I am really not at all sure, because I really don't know how much food and water is needed per length of time (I know http://lds.org has a calculator that will work out food storage amounts, but those are just numbers to me, and totally incomprehensible). We very well might be able to live in our house for years, sniping the various rural zombies. Maybe not. I have also not really planned on where to go. We live half an hour from civilization in all directions, so we have some options. It seems silly to go into a town, where I guarantee everyone will have been far less calm than I have (and I am not terribly calm), only to have to fix the mess everyone else has made. Maybe we could visit some crazy mountain man--there HAVE to be some crazy mountain men nearby.
6. My family does not own a car capable of (easily) driving over corpses. This is a matter of basic transport. Especially considering how far we may or may not have to travel, our minivan and weird little... sedan? look all the more ridiculous and impractical. I really think we ought to consider purchasing a Jeep or similar car with 4-wheel capabilities. Except not a Jeep, because those are open and that is just asking for zombie death. But still, something that would have no problem going over any terrain: snow, rocky, street, broken street (because, panic, you know), corpse, mud, etc. But I doubt my parents will find this an adequate reason to get a new car--how little they know!
7. I am (hopefully) leaving in about 8 months to go to university, and my plan will be basically useless. My plan, like basically everyone else's, is based largely around where I am currently living. When I move, I will have to redo my entire plan, based on dorm position, transportation capabilities, capable classmates, natural defenses of the campus, easily defensible buildings--the list goes on and on. Hopefully I am roomed with someone who shares my totally justified fear and who will help me create a new plan. Otherwise, I have a very busy first semester ahead of me.
8. I do not have a zombie-killing soundtrack. This may seem very trivial, but I assure you, having the right songs to give you a fighting rhythm, calm your tense nerves, or provide motivation in the face of almost insurmountable odds is a very necessary thing indeed. This is, of course, the easiest of all of my problems to fix (except I don't have an mp3 player that works, or the wherewithal to pirate the songs I need--as if Internet crime will matter after ZOMBIES.)
Those are all I can think of right now, but they are all very serious problems. Tomorrow I will present part two: problems with me.
Gingerbread houses!
My sister and I decorated a gingerbread house. And it is awesome.
If your definition of awesome is something like 'looks like it was decorated by a color-blind psychotic spider monkey'.
First off, I got distracted.
The gingerbread man in the kit was more like a gingerbreak man (that's not actually funny, but a typo I made earlier and giggled at), and I couldn't fix him with frosting. So I set about making blood frosting so I could make his gory demise.
I mashed a red M&M in some white frosting and my mom laughed at me and called me adorable (we were also in a pseudo-fight because she contested one of my reasons why I would be awesome in a zombie apocalypse so I was already mad at her) and I got mad at her.
Then I mixed about four thousand red hots in it, and nothing happened.
So I put the frosting in the microwave even though it specifically says not to, and that made the red hots all soft and squishy and I mashed them up.
Here is what my blood looked like, fresh from the microwave:
So excellent.
Then I proceeded to make the gingerbreak man's death scene:
I also made his face.
I wanted to do little fondant Xs for his eyes but it is really hard to work with such tiny pieces.
Then I got really bored with the whole thing and just put frosting everywhere and pressed candy into it, like the awesome, easily distracted person I am.
Here is the front:
That thing across it is the crime scene tape my sister made. There is also a snowman, on the left, face-down. He was the murderer. You can't quite see it, but there is a tiny fondant pistol by his head.
Also, behind the gingerbread house is the espresso maker, which I love more than all of you guys. I really like espresso.
The martini glass is there because that is what I used to store the sprinkles.
This is the right side of it:
I don't have anything much to say about this, but I like the disorder on the eaves. I was trying for a pattern at first, but then remembered that I didn't care.
Also, there is half a tree on the tip of the roof, and half of it pasted to the roof side. It was going to sit on the roof like the most awesome weather-vane/holiday set-up ever, but then it decided to break and be affected by gravity.
This is the back of the house:
It is all blurry because my hands are always shaky and whatnot, but I like to think that I opened up a portal to another dimension because my house was so aesthetically unpleasant. A dimension where straight lines and neatness do not matter at all.
It also looks kind of slanted, like the weight of its awesome decoration is too much to bear. Or the earlier dimensional-rift explanation.
Here is the left side of the house:
Unlike the right side, I didn't even try to start with any semblance of order, pattern, or care. I just started glopping on frosting and pressing in tiny candies, sometimes pressing them on by the handful and letting the ones that didn't stick simply fall to their doom.
Or, in short, I am really very good at decorating houses.
I say that I am, because Bonnie was working on tiny fondant pistols, and tiny fondant bows, and M&M wreaths, and fondant crime scene tape while I was demonstrating my inability to deal with gingerbread houses like a normal person.
So, it was mostly me.
Most of the insanity/awesomeness, at least.
Any way, I like it. It's the most festive I have been since about three years ago (we do not even have a tree up or lights at our house and I have purchased presents for exactly zero people).
If your definition of awesome is something like 'looks like it was decorated by a color-blind psychotic spider monkey'.
First off, I got distracted.
The gingerbread man in the kit was more like a gingerbreak man (that's not actually funny, but a typo I made earlier and giggled at), and I couldn't fix him with frosting. So I set about making blood frosting so I could make his gory demise.
I mashed a red M&M in some white frosting and my mom laughed at me and called me adorable (we were also in a pseudo-fight because she contested one of my reasons why I would be awesome in a zombie apocalypse so I was already mad at her) and I got mad at her.
Then I mixed about four thousand red hots in it, and nothing happened.
So I put the frosting in the microwave even though it specifically says not to, and that made the red hots all soft and squishy and I mashed them up.
Here is what my blood looked like, fresh from the microwave:
So excellent.
Then I proceeded to make the gingerbreak man's death scene:
I also made his face.
I wanted to do little fondant Xs for his eyes but it is really hard to work with such tiny pieces.
Then I got really bored with the whole thing and just put frosting everywhere and pressed candy into it, like the awesome, easily distracted person I am.
Here is the front:
That thing across it is the crime scene tape my sister made. There is also a snowman, on the left, face-down. He was the murderer. You can't quite see it, but there is a tiny fondant pistol by his head.
Also, behind the gingerbread house is the espresso maker, which I love more than all of you guys. I really like espresso.
The martini glass is there because that is what I used to store the sprinkles.
This is the right side of it:
I don't have anything much to say about this, but I like the disorder on the eaves. I was trying for a pattern at first, but then remembered that I didn't care.
Also, there is half a tree on the tip of the roof, and half of it pasted to the roof side. It was going to sit on the roof like the most awesome weather-vane/holiday set-up ever, but then it decided to break and be affected by gravity.
This is the back of the house:
It is all blurry because my hands are always shaky and whatnot, but I like to think that I opened up a portal to another dimension because my house was so aesthetically unpleasant. A dimension where straight lines and neatness do not matter at all.
It also looks kind of slanted, like the weight of its awesome decoration is too much to bear. Or the earlier dimensional-rift explanation.
Here is the left side of the house:
Unlike the right side, I didn't even try to start with any semblance of order, pattern, or care. I just started glopping on frosting and pressing in tiny candies, sometimes pressing them on by the handful and letting the ones that didn't stick simply fall to their doom.
Or, in short, I am really very good at decorating houses.
I say that I am, because Bonnie was working on tiny fondant pistols, and tiny fondant bows, and M&M wreaths, and fondant crime scene tape while I was demonstrating my inability to deal with gingerbread houses like a normal person.
So, it was mostly me.
Most of the insanity/awesomeness, at least.
Any way, I like it. It's the most festive I have been since about three years ago (we do not even have a tree up or lights at our house and I have purchased presents for exactly zero people).
23 December 2010
Things which Frustrate Me
I will now present you with a list of my current frustrations (I am pretty sure the etymology of this word is 'frustra' + 'ate', so basically 'to make be in vain' only less awkward and more scholarly. But I digress.), of which there are many. Very many.
1. I only know two languages, Latin and English. I was born into English, so I am pretty sure it does not really count. Mainly I am annoyed that I do not know French. By my logic, French should be easier than Latin: the nouns have only two genders, and only the personal pronouns have cases (and I know nothing about the verb tenses/moods/voices). It is also still spoken by many people. Possible difficulties I can see: there are five variations on e that are all separate letters. That is a lot. Spelling from hearing is also a little bit difficult. But still. French is easier than Latin, by this logic, so I think I should be able to learn it in just a few months. Even though it has taken me about seven years to learn Latin. This is perfectly logical. My lack of knowledge of Russian makes a lot more sense to me, since it is at least as hard as Latin. Reasons: new alphabet (which I have basically gotten down. I could write everything in Cyrillic if I wanted to. Except the sounds that don't exist in that alphabet), three noun genders, at least three noun cases, possibly articles (I don't remember. Latin does not have these), and probably some interesting verb things. Also, Russians speak very quickly, I think. Probably because I don't know Russian. I also don't know Greek. It's kind of overwhelming to begin now, because it is a lot harder than Latin, since it has about a million verb tenses, and three verb voices, and a new alphabet, and probably some more things that make it difficult. Mainly, I think I am frustrated that I didn't go to a school/live in a time where I would by now know five languages: my native English, Latin, ancient Greek, French, and, like, German or something. I kind of want to learn German, to read Zweig and Nietzsche, incidentally. But, yes. That is frustrating to me.
2. I constantly misjudge how much coffee I should drink. Either I drink too little, and am cranky and caffeine-headache filled all day, or I drink too much and move and talk at the speed of light and am also impossibly paranoid. This means that I always miss that amazing coffee-bliss state, where everything in the world is perfect and beautiful and filled with love, because I stop having coffee before I am there, or I am in the middle of a cup of coffee by the time I reach it, and I cannot leave a cup half-full when I could drink it, and also it will be affected by the coffee previously consumed anyway. Also frustrating: this makes me sound like a drug addict, which I guess I am if you count coffee as a drug. In a similar vein (ha), I am annoyed by how long it takes our coffee maker to make coffee.
3. I get distracted all the time. Right now, I have decided I am supposed to be reading, but. No. And when I am done with this, I will probably type some things on my typewriter, instead of reading (I have a typewriter! It is excellent). If this distraction weren't bad enough, I am also a horrible judge of how I should use my time. For instance, I have a précis I should be writing, as well as a paper on the fall of the USSR I should be improving. Instead, I have decided I should be reading, and instead of doing that, I am blogging. I should get an award for this sort of thing, really.
4. I have 307 books. This is not the frustration, really, or I guess if I said "I have only 307 books" that would be a frustration. The frustration here is that my shelves only fit about 250 books, apparently. That's not entirely fair, actually, because I have two shelves devoted to notebooks and whatnot, as well as two shelves for the Great Ideas books that I took from the living room (which do not fit on two shelves, and also are not included in this count), a shelf devoted to reference materials and old binders (some of these are counted; this is where I keep all my grammar books and dictionaries), as well as two shelves I use for library books, of which there are about 40. Basically, there are seven shelves that are not being used to their fullest potential, and I have no idea how to fix this. It also doesn't help that the day after I alphabetized my books, I started getting new ones, from school and other places, and I was far too exhausted from the act of alphabetizing the first time around to even consider attempting again. So there are 50+ books stacked up on my shelves, or in front of other books, because I am too lazy to solve this problem. They'll all be packed up (well, the good ones will be, so most of them) in a few months when I leave for college anyway, so doing anything about this situation seems like far too much work to really be worth it. Also, I am really very lazy.
5. The Postal Service is not instantaneous. Right now, I am waiting for two books and a letter from Colorado College, both of which I feel are very important. Because they are. However, I know that it will take approximately two centuries before either of them gets to me, which is very, very frustrating. I also order things on-line a lot, because it means that I can spend less money and don't have to pretend that I enjoy socialization for the two minutes it takes to ring up a purchase. For some reason, people are unnerved when you don't look them in the eyes while talking to them, and completely ignore the possibility that the only reason you actually came into the store three days before Christmas was because there was a 25% off coupon at stake, that couldn't be used on-line, much to your annoyance. I really don't like having to associate with people, which is kind of unfortunate, because it is expected of me. Curse expectations! (Though I would rather people had expectations of me instead of not, because that means they think I can accomplish things. I only wish these expectations were not social.)
6. When I type "commonapp" in the address bar of my mom's computer, the first link is Facebook, so I have to use arrow keys or the mouse, both of which are inconvenient. Also, college applications are the most annoying thing in the universe. I hate most of all the personal essay. It fills me with a boundless rage: a boundless, impotent, sobbing rage. The brief statement where I had to explain my horrible GPA was equally frustrating, and I hope that it is a one time only thing, because I was terribly annoyed by it.
7. I am not as prepared for the zombie apocalypse as I like to think I am. This actually merits a separate blog post, because it would take as much room as the previous 6 points to fully explain.
Now that I am properly annoyed and angry at the world (and you are hopefully satiated with a ridiculously long blog post [that is incomplete; I am frustrated by many, many more things as well]), I think I will read. Or get distracted again and read things on the Internet, or write about zombies, or apply to a few colleges. There's really no telling with me.
1. I only know two languages, Latin and English. I was born into English, so I am pretty sure it does not really count. Mainly I am annoyed that I do not know French. By my logic, French should be easier than Latin: the nouns have only two genders, and only the personal pronouns have cases (and I know nothing about the verb tenses/moods/voices). It is also still spoken by many people. Possible difficulties I can see: there are five variations on e that are all separate letters. That is a lot. Spelling from hearing is also a little bit difficult. But still. French is easier than Latin, by this logic, so I think I should be able to learn it in just a few months. Even though it has taken me about seven years to learn Latin. This is perfectly logical. My lack of knowledge of Russian makes a lot more sense to me, since it is at least as hard as Latin. Reasons: new alphabet (which I have basically gotten down. I could write everything in Cyrillic if I wanted to. Except the sounds that don't exist in that alphabet), three noun genders, at least three noun cases, possibly articles (I don't remember. Latin does not have these), and probably some interesting verb things. Also, Russians speak very quickly, I think. Probably because I don't know Russian. I also don't know Greek. It's kind of overwhelming to begin now, because it is a lot harder than Latin, since it has about a million verb tenses, and three verb voices, and a new alphabet, and probably some more things that make it difficult. Mainly, I think I am frustrated that I didn't go to a school/live in a time where I would by now know five languages: my native English, Latin, ancient Greek, French, and, like, German or something. I kind of want to learn German, to read Zweig and Nietzsche, incidentally. But, yes. That is frustrating to me.
2. I constantly misjudge how much coffee I should drink. Either I drink too little, and am cranky and caffeine-headache filled all day, or I drink too much and move and talk at the speed of light and am also impossibly paranoid. This means that I always miss that amazing coffee-bliss state, where everything in the world is perfect and beautiful and filled with love, because I stop having coffee before I am there, or I am in the middle of a cup of coffee by the time I reach it, and I cannot leave a cup half-full when I could drink it, and also it will be affected by the coffee previously consumed anyway. Also frustrating: this makes me sound like a drug addict, which I guess I am if you count coffee as a drug. In a similar vein (ha), I am annoyed by how long it takes our coffee maker to make coffee.
3. I get distracted all the time. Right now, I have decided I am supposed to be reading, but. No. And when I am done with this, I will probably type some things on my typewriter, instead of reading (I have a typewriter! It is excellent). If this distraction weren't bad enough, I am also a horrible judge of how I should use my time. For instance, I have a précis I should be writing, as well as a paper on the fall of the USSR I should be improving. Instead, I have decided I should be reading, and instead of doing that, I am blogging. I should get an award for this sort of thing, really.
4. I have 307 books. This is not the frustration, really, or I guess if I said "I have only 307 books" that would be a frustration. The frustration here is that my shelves only fit about 250 books, apparently. That's not entirely fair, actually, because I have two shelves devoted to notebooks and whatnot, as well as two shelves for the Great Ideas books that I took from the living room (which do not fit on two shelves, and also are not included in this count), a shelf devoted to reference materials and old binders (some of these are counted; this is where I keep all my grammar books and dictionaries), as well as two shelves I use for library books, of which there are about 40. Basically, there are seven shelves that are not being used to their fullest potential, and I have no idea how to fix this. It also doesn't help that the day after I alphabetized my books, I started getting new ones, from school and other places, and I was far too exhausted from the act of alphabetizing the first time around to even consider attempting again. So there are 50+ books stacked up on my shelves, or in front of other books, because I am too lazy to solve this problem. They'll all be packed up (well, the good ones will be, so most of them) in a few months when I leave for college anyway, so doing anything about this situation seems like far too much work to really be worth it. Also, I am really very lazy.
5. The Postal Service is not instantaneous. Right now, I am waiting for two books and a letter from Colorado College, both of which I feel are very important. Because they are. However, I know that it will take approximately two centuries before either of them gets to me, which is very, very frustrating. I also order things on-line a lot, because it means that I can spend less money and don't have to pretend that I enjoy socialization for the two minutes it takes to ring up a purchase. For some reason, people are unnerved when you don't look them in the eyes while talking to them, and completely ignore the possibility that the only reason you actually came into the store three days before Christmas was because there was a 25% off coupon at stake, that couldn't be used on-line, much to your annoyance. I really don't like having to associate with people, which is kind of unfortunate, because it is expected of me. Curse expectations! (Though I would rather people had expectations of me instead of not, because that means they think I can accomplish things. I only wish these expectations were not social.)
6. When I type "commonapp" in the address bar of my mom's computer, the first link is Facebook, so I have to use arrow keys or the mouse, both of which are inconvenient. Also, college applications are the most annoying thing in the universe. I hate most of all the personal essay. It fills me with a boundless rage: a boundless, impotent, sobbing rage. The brief statement where I had to explain my horrible GPA was equally frustrating, and I hope that it is a one time only thing, because I was terribly annoyed by it.
7. I am not as prepared for the zombie apocalypse as I like to think I am. This actually merits a separate blog post, because it would take as much room as the previous 6 points to fully explain.
Now that I am properly annoyed and angry at the world (and you are hopefully satiated with a ridiculously long blog post [that is incomplete; I am frustrated by many, many more things as well]), I think I will read. Or get distracted again and read things on the Internet, or write about zombies, or apply to a few colleges. There's really no telling with me.
Hello!
I think that a lot of this blog will be lists. I decided this just now.
Why?
Here is a list of the reasons for lists:
1. Lists are awesome.
2. It is really hard to tell when a list is actually finished. So if I forget to actually end things, there is still a post and whatever.
3. When I am listing things, I am tempted to write a lot more, because I don't want to admit that I only had about three things to talk about.
4. Lists demonstrate my ability to count.
5. Because of 4, my blog could actually be considered educational (it probably will be, but in a vastly different way).
6. Lists can end on any number they want to, like 6.
7. List points don't have to be long in order to be taken seriously, unlike paragraphs.
8. Why does everyone judge one-sentence paragraphs?
9. Sometimes one-sentence paragraphs are the best.
10. You can skim through lists to avoid the boring parts.
That is all I can think of (though I feel very cliché for having a list of ten) (also this sentence will end in a preposition, because there's nothing terribly wrong about that at all, so there).
I am sorry I am such a spastic writer; my other lists will probably be much more organized, but maybe not. Also, I'm kind of just a spastic person, so.
Also I will probably talk a lot about Wikipedia, and maybe abandon lists after a little while, if I get bored with them.
You are at the mercy of my whim!
Why?
Here is a list of the reasons for lists:
1. Lists are awesome.
2. It is really hard to tell when a list is actually finished. So if I forget to actually end things, there is still a post and whatever.
3. When I am listing things, I am tempted to write a lot more, because I don't want to admit that I only had about three things to talk about.
4. Lists demonstrate my ability to count.
5. Because of 4, my blog could actually be considered educational (it probably will be, but in a vastly different way).
6. Lists can end on any number they want to, like 6.
7. List points don't have to be long in order to be taken seriously, unlike paragraphs.
8. Why does everyone judge one-sentence paragraphs?
9. Sometimes one-sentence paragraphs are the best.
10. You can skim through lists to avoid the boring parts.
That is all I can think of (though I feel very cliché for having a list of ten) (also this sentence will end in a preposition, because there's nothing terribly wrong about that at all, so there).
I am sorry I am such a spastic writer; my other lists will probably be much more organized, but maybe not. Also, I'm kind of just a spastic person, so.
Also I will probably talk a lot about Wikipedia, and maybe abandon lists after a little while, if I get bored with them.
You are at the mercy of my whim!
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